Russian Sleep Project Novels & Stories

“I’m tired, Ricky.” “I’m just really tired. I feel like I haven’t gotten any real freaking sleep lately,” I responded, and it was the truth. Even before moving into Andrey Volkov’s last night, my sleep for the past few weeks had been terrible. It wasn’t ideal falling asleep every night knowing that any day I could have been asked to give myself to a stranger the next. Nothing but handsy old men and my ailing Papa lived in my head. Until Volkov had decided that he wanted me. Now he was in my head too and burrowing a place for himself there at an alarming rate, his presence clinging to me like a scent I couldn’t wash away.

Except for the sound of her falling apart in the dark. Her breathing hitches again. A cough. Then silence. A long one. My heart strains listening for the next breath, afraid it won’t come. I know she's asleep when I don't hear any hiccups, nothing but her muttering incoherent Russian like she does most nights. Sometimes, it's as if she's reciting her little shows, expressing some regret for enjoying them.

Even if we’re in the house. I walk up to my room. I close the door and lay down on my bed. I think I might just take a nap. ========= “Sofia, Sofia…” Alexsei’s rough Russian accent has me jumping in fright. I sit up on the bed. “What’s going on?” I look out the window, it’s dark out. “Sofia, were you dreaming about something unpleasant?” he asks. I frown shaking my head. “I wasn’t having a nightmare at least…” I think back on the nightmares that have been plaguing me over the last couple of years.

For a brief, fragile moment, she lay still, listening to the muffled sounds of the house coming alive—soft footsteps, distant murmurs, the low hum of security systems recalibrating. She sat up, pressing a hand to her chest as she exhaled deeply. Sleep had offered little refuge. Her dreams had been crowded with shadows and unfinished conversations, with Viktor’s steady gaze and Serov’s unseen presence looming just beyond reach. There was no clear line between rest and readiness anymore; everything blended into one long state of awareness.

The subtle hum from the fridge in the next room grows louder as I start to fall asleep. “Hey, we can’t sleep yet. We have a lot to get done first.” I jump out of my skin, startled awake by Ruslan’s booming voice as it bounces off the exposed brick wall. “Holy shit, you scared me. I laid down to test out the couch and it ate me. It won’t happen again.” He smiles briefly before he approaches me, leaning over my body and bracing himself on the back for support. A spark of arousal overwhelms me, and I’m forced to reckon with the choice between giving in or making him wait for me.

It should be morning already in Russia. Stalin picks up, quickly. “Dima, what’s good?” He asks in Russian. With the way he sounds; sleepy and mild, I know he’s just waking up. “I need you to research something for me.” I gush, not giving him time to ask questions, I continue. “Research about this man…” I parrot the name my prisoner just gave me. ** My skin is blazing, fire licking my veins from the inside, coating my tanned skin with beads of sweat which all but drops on the hardwood floor as I incessantly do push-ups. Akim’s voice is counting the number of times I’ve done the push-up.

“You should try to find someone, at least get the experience of a normal life here, because when we are back in Russia it would be the same life again.” Natalie didn’t say anything but just nodded lightly thinking deeply. 〰️〰️〰️〰️ Adrian groaned rubbing his arm. Last night Timofey slept in his room after watching a horror movie with Leonid since he was too scared to sleep alone and now when he woke up he found Tim resting all of his weight on his arm sleeping peacefully. He rolled his eyes at the wonderful start of his morning with his left arm asleep.

RUSLAN'S POV One minute, I was trying to shove her out of my fucking mind and cut off every forbidden seed growing inside of me, but guess what? The next minute, I was spouting out explicit words that got her so fucking wet at the pool. ~~~~~~~~ I couldn't sleep at night due to restlessness. Jesus fucking Christ, Ivana Alex was all over my thoughts and her face dominated my mind. I couldn't sleep a fucking wink. Dressed in just sweatpants, I left my room, strolling out of the mansion to get some air, maybe, just maybe after then, I would be able to sleep.

He said softly, "I want to sleep." Then, he closed his eyes. His breathing began to turn slow. He'd fallen asleep already? Larissa was shocked at how quickly he fell asleep. The country had 300 million young people with sleeping disorders. Ross' ability to fall asleep quickly would've made insomniacs so envious. Larissa changed her posture and piggy-backed Ross instead. She hailed a cab and checked in at a random hotel. Larissa wasn't sure if she sensed things correctly. But she felt like someone had been watching them this entire time.

“What’s Site 6?” “Not on any records I have,” Rafael muttered. “But the coordinates embedded in the drive match an old Soviet listening post in Siberia. Decommissioned, supposedly.” His eyes narrowed. “Perfect place to build something no one would ever find.” Sophia’s voice hardened. “So it’s not over. Lazarus was just a mask. And someone out there is still pulling the strings.” --- Later That Day – Training Room, Safehouse Sophia’s fists slammed into the punching bag in perfect rhythm, her breath sharp, her body alive with adrenaline and fury.