A
AcornTree
Guest
Original poster
[BCOLOR=transparent]It was hot. Or, more than likely, it was cool but Wendall felt hot. The sticky crimson blood he was trying to contain was pouring out of his stomach faster than he felt was strictly necessary. Despite the severity of the wound he seemed more annoyed than anything else. Wendall kept one hand pushed strongly against his abdomen as he crouched down to move across the darkened field. Night had just set in, and the people after him knew they had him on the run. Wendall figured his only hope would be to get to the private property on the other side of the field and then hide behind the fence a ways. Whoever lived there likely wouldn’t even notice, and the guys after him would never expect for him to hide there anyway.
Wendall frequented the city and had been to the outskirts several times. It was the only reason he knew that the property he was heading towards was there in the first place. He had observed before that it didn’t seem to be very busy, although it was kept in good condition so there had to be at least some people about. He didn’t see anyone now though, and he could hear the people behind him catching up. He dove behind the bushes up against the high fence depicting the outline of the property. Wendall bit his lip hard enough to draw blood in an effort to not make a sound to give away his location. He turned towards the fence and squinted down at the cuff on his wrist. It was leather and metal and carefully he pressed a few buttons. Silent as the grave, the bars of the fence weakened and Wendall pulled them apart just enough for him to squeeze through. He turned again to push the bars back into place just as they solidified.
He took just a moment to close his eyes and take in a deep breath. But he couldn’t stay here. If he was, by chance, spotted through the fence that would hardly stop a bullet between the bars. His eyes flickering open again, he looked across the land. He could see the dark, dim outline of a house and a few trees against an inky sky. Deciding the house was too risky, he moved himself as quickly as he could to the nearest large grouping of trees and bushes. There he pulled himself into the foliage and focused just for a moment on breathing.
Taking one last deep breath and then swallowing hard he looked down at his stomach. Even in the dark he could tell that the amount of blood he was losing wasn’t good. He would need to find a doctor, but going to the hospital was also too risky. He would have liked to take that moment to simply get himself back into his own time. At least they weren’t quite on to him there as much as they were here currently. His chance at getting back was shot though. Something had gone wrong traveling here, and when he had tried to get back earlier the time traveling cuff had shot sparks and fizzled out. The other features worked at varying degrees of efficiency. The bars hadn’t melted earlier, but they had at least gotten soft enough to bend, for instance.
Long, nimble fingers quickly worked at the buttons of his shirt. It had once been a light blue but was now mostly saturated with red. Pushing the fabric aside along with the suspenders still attached to his trousers, he attempted to struggle out of his shirt completely. He was intending on using the fabric to staunch the bleeding, but found that he couldn’t quite get out of his shirt on his own. Frustrated, he ran the fingers of one hand through his dark, almost blue-black hair, slicking his bangs back out of his long, angular face and then running them all the way down to the nape of his neck before back and around to his chest.
Wendall would have liked to simply stay there all night, but he didn’t think his injury would allow that. He would stay just long enough that the people after him would be gone, and then he would sneak back out through the fence and back towards town. That was the plan, at any rate. It was simply not to be, because before Wendall knew it his eyes were closed without his bidding and he was simply lost to the world. The whole of the German army could be marching towards him and he would likely never know it.[/BCOLOR]
Wendall frequented the city and had been to the outskirts several times. It was the only reason he knew that the property he was heading towards was there in the first place. He had observed before that it didn’t seem to be very busy, although it was kept in good condition so there had to be at least some people about. He didn’t see anyone now though, and he could hear the people behind him catching up. He dove behind the bushes up against the high fence depicting the outline of the property. Wendall bit his lip hard enough to draw blood in an effort to not make a sound to give away his location. He turned towards the fence and squinted down at the cuff on his wrist. It was leather and metal and carefully he pressed a few buttons. Silent as the grave, the bars of the fence weakened and Wendall pulled them apart just enough for him to squeeze through. He turned again to push the bars back into place just as they solidified.
He took just a moment to close his eyes and take in a deep breath. But he couldn’t stay here. If he was, by chance, spotted through the fence that would hardly stop a bullet between the bars. His eyes flickering open again, he looked across the land. He could see the dark, dim outline of a house and a few trees against an inky sky. Deciding the house was too risky, he moved himself as quickly as he could to the nearest large grouping of trees and bushes. There he pulled himself into the foliage and focused just for a moment on breathing.
Taking one last deep breath and then swallowing hard he looked down at his stomach. Even in the dark he could tell that the amount of blood he was losing wasn’t good. He would need to find a doctor, but going to the hospital was also too risky. He would have liked to take that moment to simply get himself back into his own time. At least they weren’t quite on to him there as much as they were here currently. His chance at getting back was shot though. Something had gone wrong traveling here, and when he had tried to get back earlier the time traveling cuff had shot sparks and fizzled out. The other features worked at varying degrees of efficiency. The bars hadn’t melted earlier, but they had at least gotten soft enough to bend, for instance.
Long, nimble fingers quickly worked at the buttons of his shirt. It had once been a light blue but was now mostly saturated with red. Pushing the fabric aside along with the suspenders still attached to his trousers, he attempted to struggle out of his shirt completely. He was intending on using the fabric to staunch the bleeding, but found that he couldn’t quite get out of his shirt on his own. Frustrated, he ran the fingers of one hand through his dark, almost blue-black hair, slicking his bangs back out of his long, angular face and then running them all the way down to the nape of his neck before back and around to his chest.
Wendall would have liked to simply stay there all night, but he didn’t think his injury would allow that. He would stay just long enough that the people after him would be gone, and then he would sneak back out through the fence and back towards town. That was the plan, at any rate. It was simply not to be, because before Wendall knew it his eyes were closed without his bidding and he was simply lost to the world. The whole of the German army could be marching towards him and he would likely never know it.[/BCOLOR]
Last edited by a moderator: