(DAY 8)
The point of the bolt dug deeper into your leg, the hand around the fletchlings tightening and pushing deeper.
"This is what happens when you disturb the deer..."
At first, there was nothing but darkness. The cold, earthy air blew onto your face, and it was almost calming.
Almost.
"And that's why you shouldn't have come here."
You suddenly hear a voice. Not friendly, no. Definitely not.
Opening your eyes, you see a path. But before you can note anything else, a sharp, stinging pain jolts through your entire body. Your leg feels oddly warm and squelchy.
Wincing, you shut your eyes, attempting to mute out the pain.
But it only gets worse.
"No, you stay still, now!"
You don't recognize that voice. Before you can ask any questions, an arm you didn't realize was there tightens around you, more precisely, around your midsection, tightly pressing down onto your spine, your ribs digging into the shoulder of whoever is carrying you.
At last, you open your eyes. The earlier calming feeling the wind gave you is replaced with what feels like terror. Only now do you recognize the metallic scent in the air.
"I've half a mind to bring you to the stronghold..."
Only thing you can see is the forest path moving below you, and the glimpse of a large, red coat.
Was that a quiver on the back?
The entire way, the crossbow wielding stranger keeps on talking, and squeezing you even more, to the point of pain.
Of course, you paid no attention to what he was saying at any point. Only picking up the occasional word or two, your mind was focused on one thing.
The object lodged into your upper thigh.
You have no recollection of how it got there, all you know is that it's leaking red. Badly.
The longer the pain stretches out for, the more you feel like vomiting. The cold air grazes the wound through the rip in your pants the sharp broadhead caused. It was definitely a hunting blade in there. The kind for big game.
But soon, the road ends. Your eyes snap open as you feel warm, heated air. It looks like the inside of one of the many cabins you've encountered before; but this time, it appears to be lived in.
You don't get much time until your body is thrown to the ground, your back hitting the wooden planks, and if your head wasn't spinning enough before, that definitely winded you.
The mask-wearing figure dropped to it's knees in front of you, grasping at the bolt that's biting your leg. His hand clamps around the area with the fletching, a small smile on his face as he pushes it deeper.
While it's not exactly spurting, it's still leaking. Badly. As your prone form is being manipulated, you hear him once more.
"Yes... yes, writhe for me..."
His voice is... oddly shaky.