Here's an amazing tip about getting shot, especially if it doesn't kill you on impact: don't.
Seriously, it hurts like fire, a wasp sting, and antiseptic cream on a grazed knee all at once. And it's concentrated in a tiny wound, which makes the experience much more pleasant (see: sarcasm).
Anyway, where was I? Ah, right, I was bleeding to death.
I come to about three seconds later, gasping in agony and squeezing my eyes shut for a second against the tears as I lay curled in a ball. Apparently the absence of pain is short-lived in these circumstances.
I know that Bruce has no problems at all with killing or maiming someone, whereas I always feel incredibly guilty afterwards, no matter how swift and or painless. my victim's death is. I still blame Storm a little bit for that, but know it is mostly my own weakness. My mentor was trying to prepare me to watch someone I know well die, but apparently it hasn't worked to some extent. I stay in that position for goodness knows how long, clutching my waist on the right side- the side that has just been shot. Luckily, the bullet has hit the fleshy part of my waist, not bone nor organ; I can tell from the colour of the blood. Hopefully nothing important stopped working.
But crimson liquid still pours from the wound, smelling faintly metallic as it does, and I force back bile. I bite the inside of my cheek to stay silent as I clutch at the injury, gritting my teeth and drawing even more blood. The edges of my vision start to darken- a bad sign. I try to steady my breathing and not go into shock (which hurts a lot worse than the original bullet hole), when another gunshot startles me back to reality. I jerk my head up, waiting to be shot as well, but when I glance up I see a leg disappearing around the corner. Why would he be running away? I think, recognising the pace and outfit of Acrobolt. To get help, I guess, I answer my own question.
I hear a thud, swing my head around, and Bruce suddenly drops to the ground, dead. I think I now know exactly who fired. Then, I feel rough, callused hands on my shoulders. I don't know who it is; maybe another guard, or my father. In my peripheral vision, I see a young man in dark clothes, and tense as I realise that is a bad situation to be in. Really bad. Maybe even worse than being shot. Then, one of the stranger's hands moves to tilt my chin up, and I see dark brown eyes. They are cold, and unfamiliar; I don't know this person well, but I know exactly what it means.
The Samurai have caught me.
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A/N- Edited 14/08
YOU ARE READING
Raven
Action"Scared yet?" "Why should I be?" she asks, a dark grin on her face. "They're only feathers." ---------***--------- Have you ever thought your life was a bit odd? Meet Estella Rose Stone; daughter of a millionaire scientist, with a mansion and an aca...
