Chapter Twenty-Five – A Pad on the Wound

Chapter Twenty-Five – A Pad on the Wound

“Owo? What’s this? Someone that needs saving?

Now let’s kill some xenos!”

— Beatrice “Hyper Cutie Bubblechan Zoom Ranger Sparkle Girl!” Smith, during her Twitch livestream of the 2039 Alaskan Incursion.

***

The bathrooms smelled about how I expected. The moment I shouldered open the door a little perfumer spritzed some crap into the air that smelled like what someone who’d never been out of a city thought flowers smelled like.

Any perfume-related thoughts were set aside as I took in the grisly scene before me.

Three women, all in their twenties if I had to guess, all near the sinks and fussing over a fourth. She was a mess. Blood staining an off-white pencil skirt, her arms weakly batting aside the helpful fretting of the others.

“Damn,” I said as I took in her wounds at a glance. Some sort of bite mark over her thigh, deep, if I had to guess. She had dark skin, but right then it was sickly pale-grey around her face and her hair was plastered to her head by sweat.

“Who are you?” one of the women asked as she turned. She took one glance at my bloodied shirt and missing arm and eye and immediately rushed over. “Are you hurt too?”

“No, no I’m fine,” I said. I… was probably not that fine, but I’d taken a lot of drugs and Myalis wasn’t fussing so I figured I would live. “How’s she?” I asked.

“Nevermind her,” the woman said. “We need to get that shift off of you. Are you still bleeding?”

I raised my hand in a ‘one moment’ gesture. “I’m a Samurai,” I said. “I’m fine.”

She didn’t believe me. I could tell right away. She had that look people did when one of the brats at the orphanage made up a tall tale about missing parents coming back or whatever. I shook my head and shouldered my way past her.

I wasn’t exactly keen on seeing wounds and the like, but it would take more than a bit of blood to make me squick. The wounds were pretty ugly from up close. They had slapped some pads over the worse of it, and it did seem to help with the bleeding a bit. Still, the counter she was laying on was soaked.

“You look like crap,” I muttered.

“Kid,” one of the other women said. “If you’re just here to gawk you can piss off.”

I raised my hand in surrender. “No, I’m here to help. Myalis? Anything we can do?”

Can you ask for the woman’s permission to view her file? I can look anyway, but the formality is merely polite.

“Uh. Sure,” I said. “Hey, what’s her name?” I asked.

“It’s Elisa,” the woman that had been at the door said. “Why?”

“Hey, Elisa,” I said. “Can my AI friend take a peek at your profile? It might help,” I said.

“Kid, get out,” the woman standing over Elisa said. She straightened, levelling a glare at me that had me backing up a step.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Fuck it, have fun,” Elisa said.

That is more than good enough for me. Let’s see… no diabetes, a history of high blood pressure… nothing that truly matters. The wound should be cleaned, then treated with something like Woundstop. How many points are you willing to spend?