Royals of the Navy

Chapter III: Her First World.

“SHIT! SHES AWAKE!”

“HOLD HER DOWN! NOW!”

Stitches places moments, minutes, hours ago, ripped apart in violent succession. Her eyes were bloodshot, in a craze daze as her arms grabbed onto the closest things to her, that being an operation trolley and a doctor's arm.

“SHES REOPENING HER STITCHES!”
“CODE RED! CODE RED!”

“SOMEONE GO GET HIS
MAJESTY!! ALERT HIM NOW!!"

Her grip was unmatched by anyone alive, the doctor's wrist bone shattered to near dust at the pressure it was pinned under.

Like a wild animal, strapped down in a cage, she lashed out violently. All inside, half feared for their safety and froze, the other jumped onto her before anymore repairs became undone.

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She was in a panic, pained by the lord itself, her eyes darted around and observed the foreign area. Blood drips at a slow-steady pace from the table, many foreign men held her legs and arms, two even holding her waist and chest.

“Fuck! She's Strong!”

“no wonder he's
protective of her..”

This was proving to be futile, her strength was double that of normal humans during this phase. The men holding her down were feeling her strength even when they poured everything into holding her down, eventually coming to futility as a surgeon is thrown back to crash against the wall.

The doors open, a man is a blur to the woman as she kicks another surgeon who falls down, taking a trolley with him to spread surgical equipment across the floor unintentionally.
The one who made his appearance at the door, rushed over to the woman's head and got within her face. She couldn't tell any defining features of his face, but one thing stood out.

His blue, shining eyes, her fit slowed down as her body relaxed. One doctor, wasting no time, took a needle with Anastatic and injected the woman with it. She flinches, the feeling of drowning becomes apparent as blood comes bubbling out of her mouth with a foam mixture, machines blare warnings as the medical personnel begin to try and save the woman. All the while, the man continues to stare into her eyes, her body relaxing more deeply, submitting below his gaze.

Her eyes closed, drowning in blood was a cruel way to perish. Iron mixed with sugerfied salt water, a bitter taste left on the tongue. Many voices yell, the eardrums already vibrating, producing the sound of ten thousand bells. The voices fade into obscurity, the chemical compounds artificially commanding the central nerve system that there was no pain. Artificially commanding the brain, there was no body, only relaxed tissue and muscle fibres.

The body partially shuts down, the lungs begin to drain, the drowning continues on. The conscious fades back into a deep state, a coma as many put it.

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A whisper in the void, taking the silence with a deafening blow.
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“VICTORIA!!”

A deafening sound occurred in the infant's ears, prompting it to begin crying at a matched intensity.

“MY BABY! I'M SO SORRY!”
The mother, named Amelia, cried out. A general practitioner standing beside her, watching over the infant.

Amelia cried her heart out, her fear of losing her youngest had grown to dangerous levels of heart-break. The husband watched on, holding their second youngest in his arms.