#arrow wound

They bit their tongue to stop themselves from screaming as they snapped the fletchlings off the ends. Hero couldn’t help the whimper in the back of their throat at how painful even that slight movement was, but they couldn’t stop now.

Hero braced themselves and stepped away from the wall, huffing out a few laboured breaths before they pushed the arrow through their body. Hero stomped their foot, their neck muscles tense as they glared at the sky, letting out huffing breaths of pain and whining in the back of their throat until the arrow fell to the ground on the other side.

The wound started pooling blood but Hero tried their best to ignore it, staunching the bleeding with the wad of cloth bandages they kept on them at all times. It would have to do.

Hero side stepped to the corner of the alley, peaking out around the corner, expecting Villain to appear at the end of the Warehouses with their bow poised and ready, already aiming at Hero’s head, but… it was quiet. Silent.

Eerily so.

Hero glanced down at the leftover bandages, considering if they should even try to do anything with their hip but… no. They should wrap it tight and then continue out, looking for cover. They weren’t going to be able to fight Villain again like this, they were too crafty, too cunning and unpredictable, and unlike Hero, they could fight from the shadows and still devastate Hero with their arrows.

Hero wrapped the bandage around their hip, crossing and pulling it tight but not too tight, and tucking the end into a strip before they straightened again, scanning the warehouses across from them. If they could get between the next two warehouse, they would be home clean if they could make it to the street. Hero could lose themselves in the narrow streets instead of running through the wide open space, that only really gave Villain any advantage in the fight.

Hero waited, listened, and when they were satisfied they heard nothing, Hero stepped out of the alley. They had to be quick. They walked with strong steps, careful not to put too much pressure on their injured leg, even if every step no matter how light sent new volts of agony spiking through their body.

Halfway across.

Hero was doing good.

Then the warehouses turned, and Hero frowned and the ground rushed up to meet them. Hero shot their hands out and cried out when they took their weight on their bad shoulder, barely suppressing a scream.

What?! What happened? Did their leg go from under them? Hero pushed themselves up but the world spun again and they felt like they were going to get sick. The strength left them as they tried to push themselves up again but fell face down, and this time they did scream when the arrow lodged in their hip was pushed further inside them.

All energy had been zapped from them, the world dizzying, turning over itself and in and out of focus as Hero tried to blink. Had they lost too much blood? What was—

Loud, echoing footsteps sounded through the warehouse strip, deafening the closer they got to Hero. Hero saw them, Villain’s legs, their bow handing by their side.

“Hero, Hero, Hero,” Villain tsked, the words running together and echoing off Hero’s skull. Villain stopped beside Hero and crouched, slapping Hero’s cheek. Hero whined in reply. “Still with me, hmm?”

They could feel Villain’s eyes roam over them, but they couldn’t tell what they were thinking, what they were observing. Hero tried to speak but their tongue felt fat and heavy in their mouth so all they could do was whine.

A sharp slap to the shoulder and Hero cried out into the darkness, but they couldn’t move, they couldn’t struggle away. Thinking became too much of an effort and they had no idea what was happening to them. They flexed their fingers but only their pinky twitched in front of their face.

“Paralysis poison,” Villain supplied, as if reading Hero’s mind. Hero’s body suddenly ran cold with terror. Villain chuckled darkly. “Oh, don’t worry. I didn’t put it inside you, and it’s not permanent, no.”

Villain grabbed Hero’s shoulder and turned them onto their back none-too-gently. Hero could only glare up at them as best they could. Hoping they were threatening, bur probably not.

“See, Hero,” Villain said, walking their fingers down Hero’s neck to their shoulder and pressing in until Hero cried out. “I know all about your little habits, your frankly, unhealthy habits, because we’ve been fighting for so long. I know you take two sugar in tea with a dash of milk and you like the croissants on fifth for breakfast.”

If Hero could, they know their body would be trembling, but their body may as well have been stone with how still it was. Villain continued walking their fingers down from Hero’s shoulder to their hip. Hero let out a low whine of protest that sounded pathetic even to their ears.

Villain’s amused eyes met Hero’s terrified ones. They wanted to shake their head and beg Villain not to touch that wound. To their surprise, Villain didn’t touch the arrow, just prodded at the wound around it until Hero sang with screams of pain.

“And I know that you would rather disappear into the night, and live to fight another day when you’re bested, so I adapted. You probably didn’t notice in your pain, but I coated the shafts of the arrows with a paralysis poison that turns your muscles off for about an hour or two, long enough for me to hunt you and let the poison take effect.”

They dug their fingers into the wound until Hero was practically growling their screams were so guttural.

“Now, one arrow, sure, maybe you touch it, maybe you don’t, but two?” Villain whistled. “Two points of contact to deal with while running? I know you would rather have one weakness, so I coated them both and waited until you exposed yourself. And hey presto, here you are, and here I am.”

Villain leaned in closer to Hero’s face, smiling down at them with a cruelty creasing their eyes. “And this time, sweet Hero. There will be no running away. I’m taking you home with me.”

Villain laughed at Hero’s blank expression except for their wide, terrified eyes. “No? Okay, tell you what. If you object in the next five seconds, you can walk free. Is that fair? Ready? Five.”

Hero whined in the back of their throat, trying to make any other noise they could that would signal a protest because they couldn’t go home with Villain!

“Four.”

Nobody… Hero… what if they had more of the paralysis poison and just left Hero like this to do with as they pleased?

“Three.”

Hero tried to pant out sudden, sharp cries. Villain grinned wickedly down at them, running their gloved fingers over Hero’s cheek.

“So eager for me, Hero. Don’t worry, I’m eager two.”

Hero screamed and all that came out of their mouth was a whimper.

“One. No protest? Okay then. If you insist.” Villain slung their bow across their back, fastening it to the quiver before they scooped Hero up, one hand across their upper back resting on Hero’s injured shoulder to the shrieks of Hero, and the other under their knees. “Oh, I can’t wait until I get you home, Hero. You don’t know how many things I want to do to you.”

Hero screamed at their body to struggle, to wiggle free, to do anything, but the only part of themselves that Hero could move were their eyes that were fixed staring up at Villain as Villain carried them away. They glanced down at Hero, smiling with a terrifying glee.

Medic took hold of her shoulders, forcing her frantic gaze, "Hey, I've got you. I'm gonna pull it out. It's going to hurt like hell."

She struggled against the others holding her down, "Quickly."

His bare hand met her skin, pressing down hard. She protested greatly, screaming like her life depended on it. Struggling against the hands which held her, back arching, Shooter was consumed by a wall of pain.

She couldn't help herself. Her body wasn't her own when in pain. Something consumed her, an animalistic, instinctual force she couldn't resist.

"Somebody sedate her already dammit!" Medic shouted, knowing full well she wouldn't calm until chemically forced to.

A cloth was clasped over her nose and mouth, pressed down with a frighteningly necessary force. Then, after far too many seconds, she stilled. Her breathing slowed, limbs becoming heavy.

The rest of the team let go, allowing Medic to do his work in peace. All except Swordsman, who removed the cloth from her face and gently brushed the hair from Shooter's eyes.

"I'm sorry, this is all my fault. You trusted me and I got you shot." She whispered, supporting Shooter's head, "I will do everything to make it up to you."

The weakened young woman reached up, clutching Swordsman's shirt, "Don't-" she coughed, blood trickling from her nose, "Don't apologize. It's m-" Shooter went completely limp, the sedatives and blood loss making the world spin.

Swordsman cradled her head, "It's okay. The sedatives are working. Let them."

-----