PROMPT : STABBED
It was easier than I thought it would be. I stabbed him with the cursed knife, then yanked it out, throwing in a handful of purifying salt directly on the already blackening wound.
The shaman hadn’t told me anything about how this would look, change or feel. Quite frankly, I was trying not to feel.
It took a maximum of fifteen seconds—I wasn’t counting—and then I ran for it. The hideous groans and shrieks from the monsters behind were spine-tingling to say the least.
But they’d crossed a line I wasn’t willing to let go. Devon had been a very good friend to my brother. One who had overlooked his handicaps and encouraged the few interests he’d had, pushing him to try and make something of himself.
In the floundering confusion I’d felt after our parent’s unexpected deaths, Devon had managed to be a ray of light for the brother I’d loved and was suddenly the caretaker of.
And then, a gift from a family friend resulted in my current bizarre situation. Since my brother could not attend himself—I’d taken Devon on the wild safari.
A safari where my unusual skills were suddenly shoved to the forefront and we were running for our lives.
This kind of survival was really the worst. Human beings weren’t meant to be exposed to toxic sunglass root. They weren’t even supposed to know it existed.
And of course with my luck we’d stumbled into a hidden lair. Blundered right on in through their bootlegging laboratory. Managed to get one of us—Devon—accidentally infected with the stuff. Forced to speak to locals in a language we weren’t supposed to know—me—in order to save the infected person.
Which led to me stalking him through the underground maze in the lair, waiting for the perfect opportunity to stab him with the knife that would return him to his senses.
It was only as his anguished scream sounded behind me that I wondered why the Shaman had insisted I stab him in the heart.
(c) S. Harricharan