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Post by alfred on Mar 30, 2012 23:31:43 GMT -5
"Woah, are you sure that's sanitary, dude?" Alfred couldn't help but to gawk, as a needle came dangerously close to connecting with his skin. He sat rigidly at an old, worn down desk, his arm propped up and leaking a river of crimson onto the clinic's floor. It was nearly nine in the morning and somehow Al had managed to get into a knife fight with a group of thieves already, even at this time of day. But, he thought to himself numbly, I should have saw this coming, they were staring at me like a buncha vultures or something.
"You should be more careful." The doctor mutters, ignoring Alfred's previous comment about sanitation with a wave of his hand. "Are you aware that this is your seventh time in this clinic in the past week? That's once every day, Mr. Jones." His gray eyes narrowed and he took a sharp hold of one of the pocketknives protruding from Al's shoulder. In one swift movement he dislodged the blade, causing the other to wince and cuss something obscene under his breath. This wasn't the first time Alfred had gotten hurt, obviously, but the feeling of pain never seemed to dull. Every time he got hurt it was fresh and made him bite at the inside of his cheeks with discomfort.
Two more to go. A half. One. One and a half. Two. The knives came out little by little and a disinfect was quickly gobbed on, soaking into the wounds and bubbling away at the ungodly mixture of blood and germs. "Ahah, easy peasy." Alfred grins, helping the doc to wrap cloth tightly around his right arm. "Thanks again, man, you totally saved me from a uh...uh-what do you call it? Ampu...Ampunition?" His tongue and head fumbled equally with the word he was trying to recall and the Dr gave him a look of pure sympathy. "Amputation." he corrected, nodding his head and waving a finger towards the door, a gesture that bluntly meant Al was to leave him alone now that his work was done.
Alfred sniggered at this and made his way out of the room, the door getting slammed behind him and locked tightly with a bolt as custom. "Such a grump." He says aloud, walking down a corridor to the exit that lead outside. As he strolled, he passed an assortment of doors, the sounds from inside gave him a pang of fear. Wait...why is that room on the left so quiet? Oh no..w-was that a scream I just heard? Did someone just die? Is their ghost going to come popping through the wall?
Alfred shuddered, There sure as hell better not be any ghosts.
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Post by Krystian Arlovsky on Apr 10, 2012 20:46:21 GMT -5
Krystian found himself in the most peculiar situation.
After accidentally knocking over a fish tank at work (the aquarium landing nicely on his face) he was taken to the clinic. He then waited in line before being shown to a room (in which he waited even longer). A nurse had come in to remove the glass shards from his face and neck. She had told him to remove his shirt. He had told her ‘no’ because he was a man and she was a woman and that was rather indecent of him. She tried reasoning with him. He said no. She then tried removing it manually (in which he cried). Finally she gave up, told him to wait there bleeding while she found a male nurse, and promptly left.
And so Krystian was left sitting on the bed with large shards of glass sticking out of his face. He was bleeding everywhere. All over his white shirt, and his pants, and the nice bed…
But that wasn’t the odd part. What was odd was the giant spider that stood guard by the door. Krys narrowed his eyes at it as it lifted up its legs. He had never seen such a large spider. In fact, it must have been the size of his hand (though, how there was a spider so large in such a cold area was beyond him). Krystian cocked his head as he observed the hairy creature.
“Um, excuse me-“
The spider hissed at him. Krystian jumped slightly before laughing nervously.
“Oh…I’m sorry comrade I-“
It hissed again, this time raising its front legs at him. Krystian’s body shook.
“Um I-“
Hiss!
“I just-“
Hiss! It bared its fangs. Krystian lifted his legs onto the table.
“Will you-“
With one final hiss the creature booked it towards the bed. Krystain flailed his large body as he stood ontop of the bed, his wounds shooting blood over the walls. The creature ran for the bed leg. And then onto the bed-
Then to his foot.
Krysitan screamed like a five year old school girl.
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Post by alfred on Apr 11, 2012 11:11:18 GMT -5
Another scream flooded through Alfred's ears, making him turn on a dime. It was shrill and scared; the shrieks reminded him somewhat of a little girl's. You gotta save em, bro. You're a hero! Screw ghosts, someone needs your help! The young man pushed the thoughts of ghouls and evil spirits out of his head just long enough to go pummeling through the door in which he heard the howling of terror. In front of him was a scene he most certainly was not expecting.
On the bed stood a quite tall man, covered in what looked like glass. From his gaping wounds came an endless spray of blood, covering everything in it's path. The only thing more disturbing than the red though was the behemoth of a spider on his foot. ....Should I help stop the blood from getting everywhere..or get rid of the spider? Dude...what the hell....? When I became a hero I did not sign up for this! Alfred hesitated, unsure of his next action. Licking his lips he cried out, "Don't worry, citizen! I shall save you!" before leaping towards the bed and prying the spider off with his bare hands. The beast hissed wildly and struggled in his grasp. Perhaps grabbing it without any gloves or backup plan wasn't too smart, but Alfred wasn't one to be on the smart, safe side. No, he acted on instinct, which is exactly why what happened next was so predictable.
The spider bit into his hand and dropped back to the floor, quickly trying to escape. It was too late for it however, when a wincing Alfred jumped on it, the creature getting crushed under his boots. Nothing but guts and blood remained when Alf got done jumping up and down, making sure it was good and dead. "It's, uh, dead now, dude. You can probs come down."
Alfred glanced up at the man he had just "saved" from the spider. The blood was still flowing and tainting everything around it. "Errrr...Can I get you...a towel or somethin', bro?" Why in the world would someone leave this poor guy leaking this badly? Surely the doctors here had more common sense. Then again...Most of the "doctors" here aren't really doctors. Hell, I could patch this bastard up better than them.
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Post by Krystian Arlovsky on Apr 11, 2012 14:36:26 GMT -5
Krystian watched in amazement as a blond man broke into the room, yelled something heroic and then grabbed the spider with his bare hands. He was shocked at the man’s bravery as he wrestled with the spider.
To Krysitan it was the battle of the century. Man vs. Spider.
The spider hissed, the man yelled.
The spider bit him, however it was no match for the man’s shoe.
Krys smiled as the man jumped up and down on the creature before looking up to him. Who was this saviour of his? Surely a man who would grab a spider with his bare hands was someone to be commemorated.
What was that he said before? Citizen? Something clicked in Krystian’s brain as he made an ‘ooo’ ing sound. Only people of authority called people citizens, like cops. Therefore, this man must be a police officer (which made sense, seeing as normal people are too scared to grab monster spiders with their hands).
He said something about a towel , which made Krystian’s smile widen. Normally the police officers in this part of town were rough and looked for reasons to ‘enforce the law’ (aka: beating the snot out of you). This man seamed nicer however, as if he actually cared for other peoples wellbeing. With a happy heart Krys lifted up his hand.
“Who? Me? Oh I am well sir thank you. That was very brave of you, taking on that spider….and…a towel? That would be nice.” He looked down at the blood stained…
Everything.
“Um…I am sorry for ruining your nice room-“
Wait, can people be arrested for bleeding over everything? Isn’t that vandalism or something? Krystian shuttered and then began to panic.
“Um, I mean, I really am sorry! I didn’t mean to! It is something I cannot control you see! I try not to bleed and yet,” More blood began to pump out of his glass wounds as he made a whining sound, “No! Now it is worse!”
He then tried to grab onto his various cuts in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. He would grab onto the various wounds, however he would then do other things such as wiping the sweat off his brow of pushing his hair back, causing him to get blood on his face.
This caused him to look like a murder. A mass murderer who decided to roll around in the blood of his victims.
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Post by alfred on Apr 18, 2012 20:13:38 GMT -5
Alfred forced a concerned smile onto his face as the man spoke. He felt touched that someone, for once, thought of him as brave. Never before had his bravery been acknowledged, none the less commended. "Hahahah ~ It wasn't bravery, buddy boy. It was actually nothing at all! I do this everyday of the week! It is my job as the hero!" Al attempted his best posture (after-all, superheroes have GREAT posture) and nodded at Krystian's need for a towel. In mid-step to go out the door, he paused awkwardly.
This stranger was now bleeding even more profusely, but only seemed concerned about not getting blood all over "Alfred's" room. Wait....Does he think I work here? Pfft, like I would work in this crappy place. He pushed this thought aside though and kicked into action. Alfred nearly flung the door off it's hinges and rushed to the storage room, snugly sitting besides a check-in counter. The check-in counter hadn't been used in years, so the chance of anyone watching him was near zero.
"It's a good thing I brought this along." Alfred mutters aloud, pulling out a small, metallic object. He shoved the pin into the lock and fiddled with it until the storage had been opened. If it wasn't for the clinic's ancient doors and lack of new technologies, Al wouldn't have stood a chance against the door. But, since this was one of the most poorly funded buildings in the district, it had little new and heaps of old. The American had figured that out just a year after his first visit. Ever since he'd been raiding and hoarding medical supplies at home, risking the chance of getting caught and charged with intolerable stealing and thieving.
"JUST, JUST....UM...HOLD STILL!" Alfred shouts, sprinting back to the other man's room and flinging the towel at him. Immediately the fabric was soaked and Al had to force himself to not look at the stranger's face. Even though Alfred had a high tolerance when it came to blood, he still didn't like the whole "I look like I just murdered a ton of people" aura that emanated from the Ukrainian. "More towels....I think we need....Lots and lots of more towels...." The blonde continued to run too and fro, until the bloodied man was covered from head to toe in giant, red towels.
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Post by Krystian Arlovsky on Apr 24, 2012 14:44:02 GMT -5
Krystian couldn’t help but smile as the stranger tried (in vain) to help him. Rarely did he come across a man who was so helpful, and a police officer no less! Generally whenever another man saw Krystian in pain they would try to exploit him or steal his wallet, but not this individual. No, he was nice enough to try to aid Krystian’s ever growing need to stop his wounds from bleeding.
What a nice man, I should bake him something sometime. Perhaps he likes cake? His accent sounds American so…perhaps some outrageously chocolate cake? Yes, that would be nice…
Krystian continued to dream about baking for his hero as the amount of towels on him grew and grew. Eventually he realised that he was pushed against the wall, and the weight of the towels was becoming surprisingly heavy. With a weak arm he raised his hand.
“Um, excuse me? But, I believe that I am…ah..being…what is the word…not breathing. Yes…it is hard to bre-“ he was cut off as more towels were thrown onto his body. Normally he would be able to push the blood soaked things off him easily, however with his blood loss he was finding it hard to muster up the strength.
And why was the room beginning to spin?
Krystian tried to move some towels out of his face in a vain attempt to speak.
“Um, Mr…ah…sir? I can not…um…I do not feel so good…” He caught another glimpse of the man and pointed at him, “And also, you are beginning to bleed through your bandages…”
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