The most uncomfortable portion of slipping the long needle through the flimsy layers of flesh was not the streaks of blood which wept openly from the spot of contact. No, the uncomfortable part was the invasion of the needle deeper into the thin vein and the wobble of the spike within the arm. She was fortunate to be paralyzed at the moment. Though, I felt the discomfort vicariously.
I pushed the plunger ever lower, unleashing the Trojan medicine which had already breached the epidermal gate. The results were – as intended – fast. The blood potion was strong on its own and the difference between the oral and intravenous effects was apparent and immediate. She began to convulse. Powerful enough to send her out of the paralysis I had induced.
Uncertain of her intentions, I somewhat readied myself for another fight. Though this was unlikely to happen. Forgive me if I am squeamish and reticent about telling you all this. This woman. This enemy. Well, it was indeed hard to look at her as an enemy if you too had seen her floundering in the mud like a fish, not in a barrel or any sort of water for that matter. Though, I did shoot her. With the charm of Mellowed Heal; hoping it might calm her down a bit.
And as she was warmly wrapped in the orange blanket of the ensuing cast, she was put at ease. She was awake. Though, she made no indication of saying anything.
She was flat and motionless. Perhaps appropriately, defeated.
Strange, and for more reasons than one. First, I had still nursed my suspicion of her getting up suddenly and attempting to incinerate me. Second, she seemed somehow physically different than the reckless hellfire woman I had encountered on the bus. Third, she was looking at me – her at me – with a look of unmitigated terror.
Nearly in the tones of a schoolboy, I said: “don’t, don’t try anything.”
“Tr- try anything? Me- me to you? Who are you?”