Original Fiction: White Hot & Blood Red
TITLE: White Hot & Blood Red
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: “Why am I not surprised to see you here?” he sighed, before crossing the room and glancing at her shoulder. “What happened?” Sage’s teeth were chattering, she clenched them together to stop the unconscious noise. “I was shot.”
GENRE: Dystopian, Young Adult
STATUS: Complete - One Shot
COPYRIGHT: This is a piece of original writing. All characters and concepts pertaining to White Hot & Blood Red are the property of wintervixen86.
AUTHORS NOTE: Written for challenge 5, prompt 3 @ writerverse. Also written for Day 10 @ adventchallenge (25 stories - 25 days)
***
Sage didn’t think she had ever felt so miserable. She must have looked pathetic sitting there shivering and bleeding, but Brayden didn’t say a word. He just lifted his chin in that cold calculating way he had of recognising someone else’s presence.
“Why am I not surprised to see you here?” he sighed, before crossing the room and glancing at her shoulder. “What happened?”
Sage’s teeth were chattering, she clenched them together to stop the unconscious noise. “I was shot.”
“I can see that. How did you get shot?” When she didn’t answer he caught her eyes and lifted an eyebrow. “Being dramatic again? Playing the hero?”
Sage swallowed thickly. “I had a plan. I thought it would work.”
“Clearly.” He dumped his knapsack down onto the ground and pulled out a bottle of vodka, a knife, and a needle and thread. “Take off your jacket,” he ordered quietly.
Sage shivered and struggled to do as he asked. It was freezing cold in the room and her limbs did not want to obey her brains orders. She winced as her movements pulled at her sore shoulder. “What’s the vodka for?” She asked, her voice so much weaker than she had ever wanted it to be.
“Half for you, half for the shoulder,” Brayden answered. He uncapped the bottle of clear liquid and handed it to her.
Sage took a swig and immediately grimaced at the taste. She had tasted vodka in the Underground before, and usually she didn’t mind the taste, but this was clearly something Brayden had brewed in his own backyard. It was the worst home brew she had ever tasted.
“Oh god,” she groaned. “That is bloody awful.” She took another swig and forced down a third before handing it back to him. “I’ve got to admit Brayden,” Sage grumbled as she pulled her jacket the rest of the way off. “I don’t feel the least bit comfortable with you doing this.”
“Do you want to keep that bullet in your shoulder?”
“No.”
“Then I suggest you get well and truly fucked up and try to be a man about this.” He took his own swig of the vodka and handed the bottle back to her.
Sage forced down as much as she could. Drinking over and over until the warm liquid began to spread a fuzzy warmth through the length of her entire body. “All right, let’s get this over with.”
Brayden nodded and flicked open his lighter, running the bright blue flame over the length of his blade.
Sage swallowed nervously watching his movements. “Look, I know you’re not exactly Mrs. Brady, but some words of comfort would be really good right now.”
He flicked his lighter shut and doused the blade with vodka. “It will be over soon.”
Not exactly what she was looking for. Sage cussed under her breath and squeezed her eyes closed, struggling to think of anything but that white hot blade. “Merry Christmas to me,” Sage whispered as he pulled up a chair behind her.
“It isn’t Christmas.”
“It’s close enough.” Sage flinched as he cut open the back of her t-shirt.
“Relax,” he ordered.
Sage tried to do as he asked, relaxing her shoulders and spine and biting her lip. “What if I cry?”
His hands paused briefly before resuming. “You’ll be fine.”
“Will I?”
“Have some trust.”
“I trust you,” Sage whispered. “But this is going to hurt.”
“Yes.” Brayden passed the half empty bottle to her. “There’s no room for heroics out here, okay? From now on you keep your head down and look after yourself.”
Sage took a huge swallow and spluttered before drinking again and again until her head was swimming and her skin was feeling vaguely flushed. She swore under her breath again and again and let out a long string of cuss words before taking a final swig and gripping the bottle. “All right, I think I’m…”
White hot pain erupted across her shoulder.
Sage gritted her teeth but didn’t cry out. She hated to be a big baby about all this, but fuck, it hurt so bloody bad. She squeezed her eyes shut, several tears slipping free but she kept quiet, fingers so tight around the neck of the bottle that her knuckles turned white.
Brayden of course was no fucking help. Would have it of killed him to murmur some words of encouragement from time to time. Sage had to give him credit though, he was quick. Her vision may have been blurring around the edges and her shoulder may have felt like it had been jammed with a red hot poker, but he got in and got out quick. Before she knew it, a bullet was plinking down onto the floor at her feet.
Sage let out a shaky breath.
“How are you doing?” Brayden asked.
“Dizzy,” Sage admitted. “I feel like my left shoulder has been branded with a white hot poker.”
“It looks like it’s been branded with a white hot poker.”
Was that amusement laced through his tone? Sage blinked, god of all the times he could have found a sense of humour, it had to be now. The soft tug of her skin caught her attention. Prick. Tug. Prick. Tug. It felt horrible. The vodka bottle was still hanging loosely between her fingers, Sage took a deep swig and swallowed wearily. The room was definitely swimming around her now and between the alcohol and the endorphins, Sage suddenly had the wild urge to giggle. If only her parents could see how now. The urge didn’t pass - a giggle spilled from Sage’s lips.
Brayden paused. “Are you okay?”
“No.” Sage giggled. “I was shot, of course I’m not okay.”
“Just stay still for a minute. I’m almost done.”
Sage restrained herself and managed to take a few more gulps of vodka before Brayden took it away from her. With the last couple of stitches, he tied off the thread and broke it off with his teeth. “Okay.”
“Is it done?” Sage slurred.
“Its done. Are you okay?”
His voice surprised surprised her. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but Sage was pretty sure that this was the first time he had ever shown any inch of concern for her wellbeing. Sage let out a shuddery breath. “Fine.”
He pressed a gauze pad over the wound. “Good. Get some sleep.”
He was almost out the door when she managed to lifted her heavy head from her arms. “Hey Brayden?” He glanced over his shoulder and Sage nodded at him. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Then he was gone.
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: “Why am I not surprised to see you here?” he sighed, before crossing the room and glancing at her shoulder. “What happened?” Sage’s teeth were chattering, she clenched them together to stop the unconscious noise. “I was shot.”
GENRE: Dystopian, Young Adult
STATUS: Complete - One Shot
COPYRIGHT: This is a piece of original writing. All characters and concepts pertaining to White Hot & Blood Red are the property of wintervixen86.
AUTHORS NOTE: Written for challenge 5, prompt 3 @ writerverse. Also written for Day 10 @ adventchallenge (25 stories - 25 days)
***
Sage didn’t think she had ever felt so miserable. She must have looked pathetic sitting there shivering and bleeding, but Brayden didn’t say a word. He just lifted his chin in that cold calculating way he had of recognising someone else’s presence.
“Why am I not surprised to see you here?” he sighed, before crossing the room and glancing at her shoulder. “What happened?”
Sage’s teeth were chattering, she clenched them together to stop the unconscious noise. “I was shot.”
“I can see that. How did you get shot?” When she didn’t answer he caught her eyes and lifted an eyebrow. “Being dramatic again? Playing the hero?”
Sage swallowed thickly. “I had a plan. I thought it would work.”
“Clearly.” He dumped his knapsack down onto the ground and pulled out a bottle of vodka, a knife, and a needle and thread. “Take off your jacket,” he ordered quietly.
Sage shivered and struggled to do as he asked. It was freezing cold in the room and her limbs did not want to obey her brains orders. She winced as her movements pulled at her sore shoulder. “What’s the vodka for?” She asked, her voice so much weaker than she had ever wanted it to be.
“Half for you, half for the shoulder,” Brayden answered. He uncapped the bottle of clear liquid and handed it to her.
Sage took a swig and immediately grimaced at the taste. She had tasted vodka in the Underground before, and usually she didn’t mind the taste, but this was clearly something Brayden had brewed in his own backyard. It was the worst home brew she had ever tasted.
“Oh god,” she groaned. “That is bloody awful.” She took another swig and forced down a third before handing it back to him. “I’ve got to admit Brayden,” Sage grumbled as she pulled her jacket the rest of the way off. “I don’t feel the least bit comfortable with you doing this.”
“Do you want to keep that bullet in your shoulder?”
“No.”
“Then I suggest you get well and truly fucked up and try to be a man about this.” He took his own swig of the vodka and handed the bottle back to her.
Sage forced down as much as she could. Drinking over and over until the warm liquid began to spread a fuzzy warmth through the length of her entire body. “All right, let’s get this over with.”
Brayden nodded and flicked open his lighter, running the bright blue flame over the length of his blade.
Sage swallowed nervously watching his movements. “Look, I know you’re not exactly Mrs. Brady, but some words of comfort would be really good right now.”
He flicked his lighter shut and doused the blade with vodka. “It will be over soon.”
Not exactly what she was looking for. Sage cussed under her breath and squeezed her eyes closed, struggling to think of anything but that white hot blade. “Merry Christmas to me,” Sage whispered as he pulled up a chair behind her.
“It isn’t Christmas.”
“It’s close enough.” Sage flinched as he cut open the back of her t-shirt.
“Relax,” he ordered.
Sage tried to do as he asked, relaxing her shoulders and spine and biting her lip. “What if I cry?”
His hands paused briefly before resuming. “You’ll be fine.”
“Will I?”
“Have some trust.”
“I trust you,” Sage whispered. “But this is going to hurt.”
“Yes.” Brayden passed the half empty bottle to her. “There’s no room for heroics out here, okay? From now on you keep your head down and look after yourself.”
Sage took a huge swallow and spluttered before drinking again and again until her head was swimming and her skin was feeling vaguely flushed. She swore under her breath again and again and let out a long string of cuss words before taking a final swig and gripping the bottle. “All right, I think I’m…”
White hot pain erupted across her shoulder.
Sage gritted her teeth but didn’t cry out. She hated to be a big baby about all this, but fuck, it hurt so bloody bad. She squeezed her eyes shut, several tears slipping free but she kept quiet, fingers so tight around the neck of the bottle that her knuckles turned white.
Brayden of course was no fucking help. Would have it of killed him to murmur some words of encouragement from time to time. Sage had to give him credit though, he was quick. Her vision may have been blurring around the edges and her shoulder may have felt like it had been jammed with a red hot poker, but he got in and got out quick. Before she knew it, a bullet was plinking down onto the floor at her feet.
Sage let out a shaky breath.
“How are you doing?” Brayden asked.
“Dizzy,” Sage admitted. “I feel like my left shoulder has been branded with a white hot poker.”
“It looks like it’s been branded with a white hot poker.”
Was that amusement laced through his tone? Sage blinked, god of all the times he could have found a sense of humour, it had to be now. The soft tug of her skin caught her attention. Prick. Tug. Prick. Tug. It felt horrible. The vodka bottle was still hanging loosely between her fingers, Sage took a deep swig and swallowed wearily. The room was definitely swimming around her now and between the alcohol and the endorphins, Sage suddenly had the wild urge to giggle. If only her parents could see how now. The urge didn’t pass - a giggle spilled from Sage’s lips.
Brayden paused. “Are you okay?”
“No.” Sage giggled. “I was shot, of course I’m not okay.”
“Just stay still for a minute. I’m almost done.”
Sage restrained herself and managed to take a few more gulps of vodka before Brayden took it away from her. With the last couple of stitches, he tied off the thread and broke it off with his teeth. “Okay.”
“Is it done?” Sage slurred.
“Its done. Are you okay?”
His voice surprised surprised her. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but Sage was pretty sure that this was the first time he had ever shown any inch of concern for her wellbeing. Sage let out a shuddery breath. “Fine.”
He pressed a gauze pad over the wound. “Good. Get some sleep.”
He was almost out the door when she managed to lifted her heavy head from her arms. “Hey Brayden?” He glanced over his shoulder and Sage nodded at him. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Then he was gone.