Lost in the Woods

Kristoff: The Wound

A sword was stabbed through Kristoff's abdomen. That explained why it hurt so badly.

The splashing of water on wood awoke Kristoff from his dreamless blackout. He was instantly aware of the crusts of sand boogers in his eyes and solid drool that glazed over his cracked lips and blazed cheeks. Sweat stuck his hair to his forehead and neck, making him feel mummified. He would felt uncomfortable if it weren't for his fiery nerves trying to murder him from his abdomen.

The ghost-daggers bared in and out of Kristoff's gut like they were sharpening between his intestines and preparing for him to throw up. He almost dry-heaved--there was nothing else to cough up he hadn't already; chunks of breakfast and blood that stained his shirt and a tin pot by his right shoulder. A new trial of tears welled up in Kristoff's eyes and he couldn't control it as the starchness of his throat and build up in his swelled chest made the tears fall down to his half-open lips. Gravity pulled down on his eye-sockets and cheeks more than any other part of him, while the raw scene of a puncture wound, was being lurched up the more it drained.

It had been like that for almost ten minutes, maybe an hour. It was hard to keep track of time with the room rocking being as gentle as a raging storm. It had to be an earthquake...but no...there was water. Was he on a boat?

Kristoff tried to call out into the dimness of his low-roofed room, which was more like a horizontal broom closet. When he was passed out, Kristoff dreamed of the night he met the trolls after seeing them perform a miracle on a little girl. They were marvelous creatures and an extraordinary family to be a part of...and now they didn't want him. They were the ones who wanted him to get married to Anna so fervently when they first met, and now marriage was the problem?

Kristoff tried to keep these thoughts on his mind; anything to stop thinking about his gut and the fire-hot blood. It seeped through a bandage that had somehow wrapped around his waist and over his chest.

Just when Kristoff thought his entire bed set would be soaked in the blood that would abandonment, a door right side of his feet echoed in a vent-shaped ray of light that exposed the dust and blood particles in the shaky air.

Through the compartment door, a man crawled through. It was the same one he'd seen through the door at the shop; the dark-skinned man who kept eating cake was now holding a pack and a leather jug of water. 

"Well, helloooo there Kristoff," he said, smiling. He showed off a wooden tooth near the back. "Glad we didn't lose you. I thought I'd change your bandages."

Kristoff tried to ask who the man was, but his voice crumbled. The man grabbed a pail of water off the side of Kristoff, unscrewed the top and dipped the room-temperature liquid into his mouth. It didn't matter how warm it was, Kristoff guzzled down the relieving drink that made his rancid throat bearable to speak with. "Thanks," he whispered, and the man managed to catch the comment.

"No problem." He pulled the covers off of Kristoff and rolled up his shirt. "Oh my...it's a good thing I decided to come by now, or you might've lost too much blood." He coughed a half-hearted chuckle and proceeded to change the bandages with fresh ones. "We sowed it up in your sleep and tried to get the internal bleeding inside to stop, but I'm not a miracle worker." He frowned now and met Kristoff's daunted gaze. His eyes were dark brown and decorated with black freckles in a moon-shaped design.

"Wh..what happened?" Kristoff winced, feeling the rush of crackled brain-freeze paralyze his head as he tried to lift it.

"What do you remember?"

Kristoff recounted the events of his arrival to the grocery store, unable to stop himself from revealing that he was eavesdropping on the Cashier, Titus and the other man. He remembered the man with black hair and sword who had stabbed him without warning...everything else was pretty much a blur he couldn't be sure of.