Song of the Wounded
&**^%GY:O&R^????
It hurt.
And the fact that it kept increasing by the second did NOT make things any better.
The ten year old stunted a cry, but managed to blindly shove a trembling hand to his bruised stomach, shuddering as he felt his insides contort like writhing snakes.
Timmy's stomach was in ever tightening knots.
His stomach heaved, and he thought he heard a far distant groan and moan.
The moan escaped from his own lips. But the groan came from somewhere else.
"And I JUST had it detailed! Arrrrrrrrrggggggggggh!"
Timmy let out another moan, head falling against something extremely hard.
Silence. Then, a jabbering voice filled his head, always with sound, but no meaning.
It took Timmy a minute to realize it sounded extremely tense, and it had an inquisitory air to it.
"T…mmm…"
The buzzing wouldn't stop. Timmy grit his slightly beaver-like teeth together.
Stop.
Shut up.
Please.
Stop, stop, stop, stop!
If Cosmo, Wanda-or Poof even-had been there, Timmy felt certain he would've wished the world into silence again.
Anything was better than the noisenoisenoise of it all….!
Someone was folding his legs, and settling him against something soft. His head lolled, crying out for release-
"Shhhh…."
Who was that? Wanda?
"Easy there. Lean your head back-this will only hurt for a moment or so."
Something cold touched Timmy's spine, and began to very gently-but very insistently-pushing him into a laying position before effortlessly picking him up once again. Timmy heard quiet footsteps.
The ten year old's mind whirred viciously, like he was on a Tilt-a-Whirl with Cosmo again….
For the thirteenth time in a row after they had eaten an enormous lunch.
Wanda had given them the I-told-you-so act that night, when the two were lying under the covers with ice packs and thermometers.
Something began to gently swab at Timmy's neck. It felt like….cotton.
Something VERY cold tapped against his sore flesh.
And then, a syringe pierced it's way through.
The boy managed a strangled cry-and desperately began to flail, when….
Where was he?
He was alone.
He was alone, and in the dark.
Where were Cosmo and Wanda?
Hello?
Even his own voice sounded peculiar.
Poof?
Everything was slowing down-the quiet voice again-into an unintelligible blur.
What had been that…?
And, as Timmy's mind slowly began to eclipse, he came up with a conclusion.
Oh.
There was no more time for thought, as the boy's mind reeled once again, and he tumbled to sleep, unable to think or feel anymore.
It was hot.
It was horribly, fire racing up and down his small spine, which felt like the bone wanted to burn its way throughout his flesh until it tore itself free.
A whimper escaped the ten year old as he twitched, a frustrated moan being released as began the futile effort of attempting to kick the extra weight off him.
But much to his surprise, they refused to move. At all.
Something cool brushed itself against Timmy's skin.
"Move, and it will hurt more than it needs to."
The shock of hearing that voice again-as dread poured itself down Timmy-helped the boy force his eyes open.
And a pair of green eyes greeted his cerulean.
To Timmy's sorrow, they weren't Cosmo's.
Song of the Wounded
&**^%GY:O&R^????
It hurt.
And the fact that it kept increasing by the second did NOT make things any better.
The ten year old stunted a cry, but managed to blindly shove a trembling hand to his bruised stomach, shuddering as he felt his insides contort like writhing snakes.
Timmy's stomach was in ever tightening knots.
His stomach heaved, and he thought he heard a far distant groan and moan.
The moan escaped from his own lips. But the groan came from somewhere else.
"And I JUST had it detailed! Arrrrrrrrrggggggggggh!"
Timmy let out another moan, head falling against something extremely hard.
Silence. Then, a jabbering voice filled his head, always with sound, but no meaning.
It took Timmy a minute to realize it sounded extremely tense, and it had an inquisitory air to it.
"T…mmm…"
The buzzing wouldn't stop. Timmy grit his slightly beaver-like teeth together.
Stop.
Shut up.
Please.
Stop, stop, stop, stop!
If Cosmo, Wanda-or Poof even-had been there, Timmy felt certain he would've wished the world into silence again.
Anything was better than the noisenoisenoise of it all….!
Someone was folding his legs, and settling him against something soft. His head lolled, crying out for release-
"Shhhh…."
Who was that? Wanda?
"Easy there. Lean your head back-this will only hurt for a moment or so."
Something cold touched Timmy's spine, and began to very gently-but very insistently-pushing him into a laying position before effortlessly picking him up once again. Timmy heard quiet footsteps.
The ten year old's mind whirred viciously, like he was on a Tilt-a-Whirl with Cosmo again….
For the thirteenth time in a row after they had eaten an enormous lunch.
Wanda had given them the I-told-you-so act that night, when the two were lying under the covers with ice packs and thermometers.
Something began to gently swab at Timmy's neck. It felt like….cotton.
Something VERY cold tapped against his sore flesh.
And then, a syringe pierced it's way through.
The boy managed a strangled cry-and desperately began to flail, when….
Where was he?
He was alone.
He was alone, and in the dark.
Where were Cosmo and Wanda?
Hello?
Even his own voice sounded peculiar.
Poof?
Everything was slowing down-the quiet voice again-into an unintelligible blur.
What had been that…?
And, as Timmy's mind slowly began to eclipse, he came up with a conclusion.
Oh.
There was no more time for thought, as the boy's mind reeled once again, and he tumbled to sleep, unable to think or feel anymore.
It was hot.
It was horribly, fire racing up and down his small spine, which felt like the bone wanted to burn its way throughout his flesh until it tore itself free.
A whimper escaped the ten year old as he twitched, a frustrated moan being released as began the futile effort of attempting to kick the extra weight off him.
But much to his surprise, they refused to move. At all.
Something cool brushed itself against Timmy's skin.
"Move, and it will hurt more than it needs to."
The shock of hearing that voice again-as dread poured itself down Timmy-helped the boy force his eyes open.
And a pair of green eyes greeted his cerulean.
To Timmy's sorrow, they weren't Cosmo's.