In the cell
You're roughly thrown into a small cell and you curl up in the corner. It's not as cold in there as it is outside, but the floor is still chilling. Your vision is getting sharper, and you gasp when you realise someone is in there with you. The smell of blood makes sense as you move closer and you see who it is. A broad figure is laying on it's side seemingly unconscious. It's your half wolf friend. You kneel beside him, ignoring the moisture underneath your feet when you move close and try to shake him awake, but he doesn't move. Frantically you search for a pulse, and it's there, weak, but there. A sigh of relief sounds from your lips. He's alive. You turn him to lay on his back and put your hand on his forehead. He's hot, too hot, he probably has a high fever. You feel his weak heart beat as you put a hand on his chest. Hold on, you think, please don't die. Your eyes move down his chest, to his stomach. There's a large wound and you gasp, the bullet is still in there, they didn't even bother to take it out. At his side is another large wound from where the second bullet grazed him. He's bleeding profusely. You tear a long piece of fabric off his pants. The bullet has to come out before you can bandage it. Straddling his chest so that he can't move you face the wound. You try not to gag. Carefully you open his wound with your one hand, and ease two fingers into it. You tear up, and get a hold of the bullet. Your fingers slip and slide the first time. Second try. They grip beneath the bullet and using all your strength you pull it out. Nauseous, you fall off, and throw up all over the floor, making the room reek of not only blood, but also puke. You wrap your makeshift bandage tightly around his abdomen. It's good for now.
In the morning a tray of food and water is dropped off. Nothing is said or done other than just that. Your eyes have completely gotten used to the dark, and a small pile of blankets are found in a far off corner. They could be useful for bandage.
The young man has bleed through the old ones, his entire body is covered in sweat and he's shivering. He won't survive for long under these conditions. Using the water they dropped off, you clean his wound. It's messy, and you don't know how much good you actually do, but at least he no longer has blood caked around his wounds. You tear a strip off the blanket and bandage him up again. His mouth is open and you force him to drink a little.
Written by AnxiousRomeo on 21 October 2017