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Michael's eyes opened wider and wider as Ziskele took out his 9mm Beretta. The scene, a mix between medical supplies, a giant tin soldier, and a gun didn't exactly sit well with the Initiate. Slowly he began to back up, his right hand traveling unconsciously down to his right hip where the Casull .454 Revolver was holstered. Michael couldn't see the Paladin's eyes, but if he had been he was sure he would have seen the eyes of a sadist. If what he thought was about to happen happened, than he was probably right.
"This will hurt."
Confused by the words, but even more knowing and worried, he took a reflexive step back away from Paladin Ziskele. The Beretta was pointed at his left leg, the aft most one. Michael was determined to speak his mind about this test, but the barrel of the weapon coughed before he could utter a single word. Instead of making peace with the man he fell backwards, unable to support his weight on the wounded leg. The expression on his face was that of confusion coupled with shock and anger.
"Argh, Christ!!!"
"Time for you to patch yourself up."
Michael reached down to his leg, blood seeping from the bullet hole in his leg. The bullet had entered at an angle, thankfully missing the major arteries, and had stopped about two inches in. He could feel it next to the bone as his muscle flexed reflexively from the pain. Very carefully he brought himself up to his feet, using the wall as a support. Michael's right hand shot down to his holster again, this time drawing the revolver and pointing it between what were the eyes of the helmet. A bead of sweat began to drip down his brow, and his complexion paled as more blood seeped from the hole. With a bitter taste in his mouth like copper, all he could do was forget about the Paladin.
Michael holstered his gun approached the table with the medical equipment, his left hand gripping his thigh just above the wound. With one sweep of his arm he shoved most of the medical supplies over to the side before jumping up and sitting himself on the table, his left leg outstretch along it's length. Quickly, Michael reached back and unsheathed his Combat Knife. He took the blade and cut away the material from his pants around the wound, baring his naked thigh to the dim light of the bunker.
Setting the knife down next to him, he reached out and grabbed a long cord of surgical tubing, tying it tightly around his upper thigh above the bullet hole. Hoping it would slow down the bleeding and give him time to work on it, he reached back to the supplies and grabbed a Stimpack, stabbing the needle filled with anesthetic into the muscle just above his knee. He thanked the Lord that such a quick working anesthetic existed, because the pain quickly died down. Next came to hardest part of this little operation: The Operation.
Michael took a deep breath before grabbing a pair tong like tools and set them down on the table next to leg. He reached down and grabbed the Combat Knife.
 xHAMR · Tue Feb 10, 2009 @ 02:50am · 0 Comments |
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