April 13th
Trapped
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"Today could not get any worse."
Edmund swallowed hard, pulling his cloak tightly around him before taking a shaky breath.
Peter stepped back from the door that was now locked, glaring at it as if that alone would open it. "We're trapped." He muttered.
Edmund raised an eyebrow. "We're not trapped we've been locked in here." He murmured, voice quiet.
Peter shrugged. "Same thing," He grumbled. "Either way we can't get out, so we're trapped."
Edmund just stared at him, and he could feel the sweat already forming on his forehead.
"You okay?" Peter murmured. "You don't look too good."
Edmund gripped his cloak, making sure it covered his entire body and nodded. "I'm fine." He replied. "Just cold."
Peter frowned. "You're sweating." He pointed out.
At this point Edmund had no idea how he was still standing, and the pain in his side was getting worse every second. He could feel the blood dripping from the fresh wound, and he knew Peter would catch on eventually.
"Um-" Edmund paused. "You know when you said - said this day couldn't get any worse?"
Peter looked worried now. "Ed what's wrong?" He asked firmly.
Edmund swallowed thickly, taking off his cloak and revealing the hole in his tunic, which showed a deep knife wound he'd gotten only a few minutes before.
Peter seemed completely frozen to the spot for a moment or two, but the second Edmund became unsteady on his feet he was by his side, lowering him to the ground and leaning him against the wall. "What the heck happened?" He choked.
Edmund laughed nervously. "Bet you thought that knife just missed you earlier, you know, when that guy came at you." He murmured, breathing slightly uneven now. "Well I - I guess it did miss you, but - but only because I made sure it did."
Peter shook his head. "You absolute idiot." He hissed.
Edmund smiled weakly. "You know me." He whispered.
Peter examined the wound, hands shaking just slightly. "You'll be glad to know that it's too low down to of damaged anything important." He murmured, trailing off.
Edmund hesitated. "But?" He asked.
Peter was already pulling off his own cloak. "You're losing too much blood." He choked, packing the cloak against the wound and applying as much pressure as he dared.
Edmund winced, gasping slightly before sighing. "That sounds brilliant." He muttered sarcastically.
"Lie down." Peter murmured gently, helping his brother lay flat on his back, really, really worried for his life by this point.
He didn't know what to do.
They were locked in there, with no way out, and his little brother was laying on the floor, a stab wound in his side, slowly bleeding out.
He kept pressure on the wound, hoping to slow the blood flow, but he knew it wouldn't be enough.
"Hey Pete," Edmund whispered after about a minute.
"Yeah," Peter choked.
Edmund swallowed hard. "I - I don't feel too good." He said, voice weak.
Peter stared at his brother's pale face, before he looked back at the door.
A thick, wooden door, that stood between him and getting his brother help, that trapped them in there whilst his brother slowly died.
Grabbing Edmunds hands he placed them against the cloak. "Keep the pressure on." He muttered, before standing.
Taking a deep breath he squared his shoulders, before running at the door.
He hit it side on, hearing it creek, but it didn't move.
Stepping back again, he tried a second time.
It shook this time, but didn't budge.
Peter moved his arm up and down, already knowing it would be extremely bruised in no time, but he didn't care, he was getting that door open if it was the last thing he ever did.
He tried three more times, and by this point he was panting, and in a great deal of pain.
"Pe're."
He turned at the sound of his name, and when he saw Edmund on the brink of unconsciousness as he hands slipped away from the cloak and fell limp at his sides, he panicked.
The fear and adrenaline kept him going, and the pure terror was what gave him the strength to bust the door open, and his mind didn't even register the pain of his arm after this.
All he thought about was getting Edmund out of there and getting him help.
"Come on," He whispered, lifting him off the ground. "You're gonna be alright, I've got you. You're gonna be fine."
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