𝘀𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝘀. owen grady

⟩ 19

Flesh Wound ⤵

''Not everything you see in movies..'' I groaned in a feeble attempt to move about on the floor. ''...is true.''

Through half-blurred vision, a shadowed orb with tentacles reached out to my shoulder. A scream pierced the air. Something horrifying. As if straight out of a horror movie with a knife stabbed in their back. The murderer now laughs manically while continuously stabbing the knife in different spots.

Something was throwing me across the floor. Back and forth and back again. I nearly released my lunch from earlier onto the floor, which wouldn't have been sanitary for any of us. My body felt limp. I was unable to move anything besides my eyes to blink and stare up at the shadow figures that loomed over my distraught figure. 

My arm was caught by another. They held tightly against my thrashes, trying to pull me somewhere. Obviously they failed since I've been laying in the same place for a while. The floor was cold and hard. Fairly uncomfortable for a sensitive person such as myself.

The voice sounded distorted at first, as if using a voice changer to hide his actual voice to some secret spies trying to take him off the Government throne. Not being too specific. ''Hold her down, Zach!''

''What does it look like I'm doing?!''

It took a fair amount of time for me to realize that everything that happened previously, the thrashing, the screaming.. was all because of me. I hadn't noticed my body could actually moved, due to everything feeling limp and I hadn't known I was screaming. I don't know how my bloodcurdling scream got passed my attention.

I'd bet the whole park could hear it, though. 

Equally angered words were shared between the brothers. Zach having to shove his body weight on my torso to get me to stop throwing myself around while Gray was trying to patch up the wound. A wound which left a large stain on the floor and on myself. 

I couldn't tell you how long it took. Minutes, hours, days. Gray finally stepped away, Zach finally stood on his own two feet and I was let off by the both of them. Later, when I've finally collected my bearings again, I'd have to give props to them for listening to my screams of encouragement and not barfing all into my shoulder. 

When I reached out my opposite hand, silently asking Zach to help me up, the pressure was surreal. It pulled through my arm and to my other shoulder, the injured one. I screamed before falling on my ass to the floor again. My wound became a newborn infant that I cradled close.

Have I been shot before? Not like this.

I've been shot by Nerf guns. Not pistols. 

Gray still look flustered from his mistake however long ago that was. His face was red to the tip of his ears, hair more frazzled than it usually was. His "dork pouch" was discarded on the floor next to where I sat. 

I wrapped the fabric around my fingers, lifting it up to the boy. ''Here.'' Shaking the pouch around a little, I lifted it higher towards him. ''It's still got some things in there. Crucial, I hope. We're gonna need it.''

''So, you're alright?'' Zach's tone portrayed confusion. Brows drawn in as he searched for any other sign of pain or another open wound to deal with. ''Took a gunshot like that and you're fine?''

I sighed, headbutting the wall. ''It's only a flesh wound, Zach. People have been through worse.'' My look went to his attire. ''Speaking of, give me your jacket.''