A Modern Myth

by Clara Wake

  “Oh!” She exclaims in a high tone as if she’s found treasure or something. She grins brightly, bearing her white teeth as she leans in and pulls his combat knife out. She can think of a million things to do with it. Her eyes lovingly watch the blade glisten with the light that bounces off it. For a moment, she’s in awe at this little treat before she tilts her head and continues to smile.

  “I think you’re bleeding enough for me. Don’t you?”

  She comments, until a rumble escapes her lips. She’s laughing. “you certainly have bled for me” She continues, licking her lips and softly humming, swaying her hips. Hesitation dancing in her mind, “Skye is her name, isn’t it?” She shoots a glare down to narrow her eyes on the bruised elf. Clearly locking her eyes with his choker and then to his leather braided bracelet – just like Skye’s.

  His glare intensifies as he watches her, his face becoming rather pale. His ears are lowered. He can’t even think properly as flashes of The Chamber start to crawl through his mind and leech through his memories. Blood trails and scuttles from between his fingers, painting his own hand as he attempts to keep the pressure on the wound. His blood flows and boils within from the anger that traces his veins.

  “I knew all along” She adds on, “I just wanted to see how much you’d bleed for me” She cackles and sighs loudly. Pleased with her own work.

  He’s flooded with pure rage, but his body is hindered, and he’s unable to gain the needed strength to move. Disgusted by the reality of The Chamber and her motive. He can only muster a moan of discomfort, while he attempts to bottle up the rage that bubbles within; he needs to conserve his energy.

  The Governor scoffs with a shrug of her shoulders. She throws his blade down, letting it clash and smack with a sharp clatter to the wooden floors.

  “Now, where was I?” She teases, as she moves in once again, pulling the bottom belt from the straps and whipping it across the room. She is towering over him, hovering, and leaning against him. With her chest meeting his, she plays and unbuttons the first button to his dark cargo pants and smiles deviously at him.

  She’s soon greeted with a very sharp and heavy hit to her cheek. Nickolai has backhanded her with his left hand— a harsh and surprisingly severe force.

  Growling furiously at his strength and power, she howls before she immediately palm strikes his shoulder, smacking the bullet wound hard. A bolt of pain sparks and travels down his entire arm, rendering his right arm completely numb. This leaves him completely frail and incompetent to move his dominant hand and arm.

  She’s quick to move in again, smacking his legs out the way. Gaining access, she straddles his hips and props on him again.

  With weakness draining him, the pain throbs endlessly across his shoulder and sinks deep and down his arm. Thick, dark, and warm crimson liquid splutters and trails down his chest and arm, painting him red.

  His mind is chaotic, trying desperately to conjure as much strength as he can, to push and shove her off him, but his own willpower is shot— much like his shoulder.

  Sinking in sweat as droplets began to slide down his temple, his eyelashes fall, and he’s tries his best to move. To kick, to shift, and get the old hag off him.

  Everything is becoming far too tight; his body tenses with each movement as she attempts to take the only innocence left in him.

  As if she hadn’t taken everything else from him.

  Before she can attempt to pull his cargo pants below his waist, the nurse comes in, panting and in a rush.

  She’s burst in unannounced, and she knows it. However, it’s important, and she must inform the Governor no matter what.

  Her eyes dart, alert and wide as she finally sees the situation before her. She holds her breath for a second as The Governor growls and snaps her head to stare at her with a very impatient and disgusted glare. “What the hell do you want!?” She exclaims, bearing her teeth in another growl.

  The nurse freezes for a second. She knew she’d be yelled at and scolded for barging in. However, she is quick to stammer out her reason. “You’re needed in The Chamber,” she blurts with a huff.

  The Governor's fist clenches as a hiss leaves her lips. She irritated, frustrated, and left in pure anger. She curls her hand around Nickolai’s throat and nuzzles his cheek with her nose before whispering in a cold and slithering tone. “I’m not finished,” she tells him before she collects herself and moves away from the trembling elf.

  Taking a moment to straighten herself, The Governor closes her eyes and realizes Nickolai’s blood has tainted her hands. There are smudges of it across her palm and fingers. She lets out a content sigh before clearing her throat and leaving with the nurse.

  Nickolai’s head is pounding, and his body is trembling and riddled with agony. He can’t move his right arm, he attempts to shuffle and move, but instead, he drops and smacks his right side down on the ground. A heavy groan shakes his lips; he grits his teeth.

  He takes a moment, attempting to control his own breathing. Still holding the bullet wound, each movement sends bolts of pain down his arm, and leaves him breathless.

  Laying there, he can feel the weakness rushing through him, like waves crashing and thrashing through him, endlessly draining him. Sweat still traces his face. He does his best to collect his thoughts and gather the last remnant of strength to get the hell out of there.

  Finally, he lets out a fierce yell as he pulls himself up from the ground, again smacking his back up against the wall. He grabs his second belt and throws himself forwards. reaching his combat knife. Leaning over, he swiftly holds his combat knife and manages to push himself up, staggering as he stands there, stirring for a second. On his own two feet, he takes a deep breath and takes one step forward before his pants begin to slowly fall from his waist. He manages to catch the edges of his pants and pull them back up, but he’s left to hold them up while holding his knife and balancing himself.

  His right arm is still no good and no use to him right now. As blood dripped and slipped from his fingertips, leaving a small trail.

  He staggers, sways, and stumbles towards his Squad. Each step is harsh in the cold as the wind becomes severe. He can feel just how cold it is—

  reminding him that pain intensifies the sensation of cold, just like he felt in the Chamber.

  His lungs began to burn, and the temperature change is drastic enough a fever comes crashing in. Weakness shrouds him.

  Doubt attacks his mind, attempting to steer him away from pulling himself towards help, but he fights against it and does everything he can to keep himself from falling to his knees and admitting defeat. Fighting is his only option.

  It feels like it takes an eternity to make it back to his squad. his numb side leaning up against the wall, leading towards the hallway, towards his room. He can feel his knees starting to buckle beneath him. He’s wobbly and almost unable to keep up with the strain of walking.

  Still, he leans up against the wall and keeps going.

  Finally, he looks up with his ears dropping as his eyes narrow on Jake with his back towards him; he’s too busy changing the channel on the television.

  Until he turns, and Nickolai’s eyes widen in hope and relief as Jake launches towards him. In that second Nickolai drops to the hard floor; He knows he’ll be okay now. Everything is a complete blur. Distorted and disfigured. Motionless and unresponsive. Nickolai passes out and leaves every ounce of trust in Jake’s hand to take care of him, to save him. He knows he can count and rely on Jake.

  Jake had no clue what happened, and his eyes scan Nickolai frantically. All he can see is red, and it has his breath failing to keep up with his heartbeat. His chest thuds from the adrenaline surging through him.

  Blood stained and painted Nickolai, and snowflakes dissolved and stuck to the fresh, sticky, and warm blood.

  Jake manages to get Nickolai safely to his own bed, laying him down on his back. He closes the door and looks at him. Completely missing the fact that he was strong enough to drag and pul
l the tall elf into his room within a heartbeat. He was far too focused on making sure he didn’t bleed out, any further.

  The cold seemed to have helped, and his first area to investigate is Nickolai’s shoulder. He has to unzip Nickolai’s red hoodie, and he manages to peel it off the unconscious elf, but he isn’t careful. Nearing the wound, he tears it off. Sure, Nickolai would kick his ass for it – it was his favourite hoodie – but under the circumstances, he’s sure he’d let it go.

  Peeling and prying the thick fabric away, he can finally see what’s happened. No exit wound. He’s sent into a spiral of panic.

  “Fuck, what happened to you. Nicko?” He whines, a pout on his face as he scans his friend carefully. Taking a second, he composes himself and switches his mind, swallowing the large lump that clogs his throat. Don’t treat him like a friend, treat him like you would anyone.

  He knows he has to get the bullet out and fast. He only hopes that there isn’t any residue and it is an easy fix. Then again, digging and finding a bullet lodged in someone’s shoulder is never an easy task and he certainly didn’t want to try for the first time on his best friend.

  He doesn’t want to leave him alone, but he has no choice in the matter – He must grab every single piece of medical equipment he has in his room. He has to mentally prepare himself and Nickolai for this.

  He takes a second before he steps out of Nickolai’s room and dashes to his own and compiles everything he can and what he knows he’ll need. Luckily, he’s collected almost everything for any occasion.

  He could take Nickolai to the infirmary, but he’s scared that’s an even worse decision right now; He has no idea what’s happened or who did this.

  If Nickolai wanted to, he’d have made his way there instead of here. Clearly, he didn’t want to go there. Jake knows that Nickolai doesn’t trust anyone.

  Nickolai’s life is in his hands, and they are trembling. Sweating, Jake can’t even wrap his mind around it all. His mind instead flickers to the worse possibilities, that he’ll lose him. He’ll bleed out, or he can’t find the bullet – internal bleeding or head trauma has left him in a coma.

  Panic is heavy on his shoulders, but he reminds himself why he gave Nickolai the nickname, Little Phoenix. Because no matter what they’ve put him through, he always gets back up again.

  Hours slip by. Not a minute passes where he stops to take a break. Jake makes sure everything is okay, and Nickolai is stable. The longest breath he holds is when he pulls the bullet from Nickolai’s shoulder. He’s glad that Nickolai is unconscious and unable to feel the pain inflicted during the removal and perhaps avoid the incoming fist.

  Although at times Jake occasionally wished he would wake up, just to yell at him or something.

  Four stitches to his shoulder and butterfly stitches to the gash to his forehead later, and Jake is left to clean up the dark red blood staining and sticking to Nickolai’s upper body. From his face to his neck and chest and trailing down his right arm, it takes several hours to dab, wipe, and clear away the bitter taste.

  The last thing is placing his right arm into a sling and boy does he know he is going to hear about it when Nickolai wakes up.

  The elf is so impatient, it wouldn’t surprise Jake if he ripped it off the second he was out of his sight.

  Jake can’t help himself but smile and let a small chuckle slither from his lips as he thinks about it. Shaking his head, the smile beams as he continues to think to himself. While his hands are tainted with Nickolai’s blood, he finally takes a solid moment to breathe.

  More hours press on, and Jake is still there. On the floor, he sits there watching Nickolai with his back against the wall. He waits for him to wake up, to give him a sign he is recovering and is, in fact, okay. He’s also hoping Nickolai can give him some form of answers. He holds onto so many questions as to why this happened and who did the deed.

  Jake is slowly falling asleep as he waits and hopes Nickolai will wake up.

  It’s that perfect time of the night. To most, it’s dead hour., but three am to Skye? It’s when she can see her knight in shining red fluffy hair. She’s as usual, bright-eyed and beaming with happiness. All day, she is eager and excited for this time—to feel safe and feel the warmth he always gives her. She’s practically skipping towards Nickolai’s window and making as much noise as possible for his sensitive ears.

  The cold and soothing moonlight make it easy for Jake to drift off, but with the sudden thumps and bumps near Nickolai’s window he’s wide awake. He leaps to his feet right before Skye pops through Nickolai’s window, dropping down and bouncing up to stand right before him.

  “Skye?” Jake croaks, his dark doe eyes wide in shock. So Nickolai wasn’t making her up after all.

  He’s described her in perfect detail, even down to those small freckles on her nose and cheeks. Only just able to make them out, if you’re close enough.

  Jake blinks in disbelief before his throat becomes dry. How will he explain what’s happened? He can’t even start before she’s panicking and slamming questions down his throat.

  “Jake! What happened!?” Skye snaps, terrified as she stares down at Nickolai, passed out on his bed. The faint residue of his own blood stains his face, chest, and arm. The bandages soaked in blood with the mess of the medical supplies are scattered across Nickolai’s bed and floor.

  Skye’s frozen in shock and riddled with fear before she snaps her head to stare at Jake, her eyes so wide and evidently drenched in horror. Her lips are parted before she holds her breath and weeps. “Is he okay!?” She whines, begging Jake for an answer.

  “He’s okay, I’ve made sure of that” Jake quickly nods at her and feels nervousness start to tread his body. He’s quick to assure her and convince her that he is okay and safe.

  Her eyes wide, observing him so carefully, trying to tell herself that he’s okay. Jake said so – He was confident in his words, in his work.

  However, her lip is quivering beneath her palm. Shock shakes her body, as she blinks the tears away. Nodding to Jake, she swallows hard and attempts to calm herself. She’s heard so much about Jake from Nickolai – she knows she can trust him.

  Jake and Skye stay there; neither of them wants to leave. Even if they’re sitting there in pure silence, their minds are loud and twisted with too many things to gather. They wait.

  “Nice to finally meet you, Skye” Jake finally smiles softly to her, before a cheesy smile crosses his lips. “I thought maybe he was lying or something.” He shrugs a shoulder and scoffs, shaking his head before he looks up to meet her gaze. She’s smiling too.

  “You too, Jake,” she smiles with him. “I wish I could tell someone about him. He’s lucky to have you.”

  She compliments their friendship and sighs softly to herself before turning to watch Nickolai sleeping peacefully on his back, with a sling. “You know he’s going to hate that thing, right?” She laughs before turning to Jake with an arched eyebrow.

  “I know,” he chuckles. “How about we make a bet?” Jake attempts to lighten the mood ever so slightly and gives her a sly grin.

  “What?” She questions him, suspicious of that little sly grin he’s showing her.

  “I bet he won’t last a day with it on,” he announces his bet. and implies that she gives it a go and see who wins.

  “Fine, I bet he won’t last an hour,” Skye chuckles as she leans forward and gestures to shake his hand on the deal. “What are we betting for by the way?” She inquires, slightly confused as to what the winner will win.

  “I have no idea,” Jake shrugs and shakes her hand. He’s confident he’ll win, not that he’ll really win anything. He’s still ready to win regardless.

  Skye lets her eyes wander over Nickolai for a moment; she can’t help but pin her eyes to the bruising on his face and shoulder. Sadness overtakes her. Her throat tightens the more she looks at him wishing she could take his pain away.

  Turning away, she catches a glimpse of his belt. It’s unbuckled. His ca
rgo pants are unbuttoned as well. She slowly turns to Jake, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Jake?” She starts, “why are his pants undone?” Her voice is shaking as she expresses her horrifying conclusion.

  With a wide and loud gasp, Nickolai jolts upwards and in a panic. Sweat crawls down his face, and his body aches in more places than one. He groans loudly and hisses at the pain that subsided and dissolved into his shoulder and down his arm, the numb arm he can finally feel once again as his hand flexes.

  “Whoa! Nicko! Hey!” Jake is swift to his feet and right beside Nickolai, immediately reminding him that he is safe and surrounded by those he can trust. He still has no idea what he’s been through, and he’s careful with every word and movement he makes.

  Shock is almost overwhelming until Jake is in his line of sight and he can hear his calm words. His breathing finally comes to a stable level, as he takes everything in. Leaning backwards slightly, Nickolai blinks slowly and lets out a strained huff.

  “Are you okay?” Jake asks carefully, with a soft hand to his shoulder, assuring him that he is safe as he watches over him carefully.

  As Jake asks, Nickolai can’t help but drown in memories and flashes of the hours prior. He isn’t okay. No, and he can’t shake it. He can’t fight the memories from attacking him and flooding him with everything he’s witnessed and endured.

  Nickolai manages to shake his head, as his eyebrows furrow and he frowns heavily. His captivating eyes lower for a second, taking a moment to comprehend where he is and what happened. Looking down at his arm, he can’t help but let out a soft sigh of annoyance. “What the hell is this?” He grumbles, his eyes slowly glaring up at Jake in disgust.

  “You have to keep it on – Doctor’s orders, young man!”

  Hearing her cheerful tone, Nickolai immediately shoots his head up, eyes and eyebrows wide in shock like a deer in headlights.

  He sees Skye pop out from behind Jake – who’d been blocking her the whole time.