My second attempt at breaking out of dialouge. (My first attempt was Junk Art, a Yu Yu Hakusho fic.) It was inspired by Jake, a guy I met in the hospital who recently lost his leg in a car accident. He's a great guy and he didn't deserve what happened to him. This is sort of my tribute to him.
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Prisoner of War
Yet another attempt at fine literature by lupine72
When they brought her in, it was worse than I'd first imagined. There was a lot of blood— too much. It was nothing I hadn't seen before, but it didn't make it any less horrific. Her left eye was swollen shut, and her arms were covered in lacerations. But the smell emanating from one mangled pant leg was by far the worst.
Phage Dena.
Necrosis.
Gangrene.
I tried to keep the bile from rising into my throat.
"Don't worry about me," she rasped, voice thick with poorly concealed agony, "I'll be fine, you need to start on damage control," Two months as a prisoner in an enemy stronghold and she was still nagging me about my paperwork.
The medic cut away the pant leg carefully and I swayed on the spot. Her right leg was mottled and black and half-rotted, hanging on by only a few bits of diseased flesh.
"There's no way I can save this," the he stated grimly, although there was really no point in stating the obvious. He reached into his bag to pull out a syringe.
"No!"
"Are you sure?" he stared at her as if she was insane. To be honest, so did I.
"I- I don't want to want to wake up and have my leg gone," she gasped out, breath uneven and shallow.
"If you're sure..." he nodded to someone off to the side, "Bourbon."
The requested alcohol was provided quickly and she drained half the bottle in one go. She'd never been big on drinking, but in this situation, I think even the most conservative housewife would gladly welcome the amber liquid.
She glared at me, the same glare she used when I was slacking off on a normal day at the office. I got the message loud and clear. She didn't want me to see her like this. I hesitated, and the medic asked her if she was ready. She took another swig and nodded, and I nearly sprinted out of the room.
I may not have seen her agony, but I will never forget that scream for as long as live.
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Con crit is appreciated, I'm trying hard to become a better author and I'd like to know how I'm doing.