Erkan was pretty sure he should have passed out a long time ago from the blood loss. He couldn’t be completely sure, because he couldn’t see how much blood he was losing or tell exactly how much time was passing. It felt like forever… but that was an inevitable consequence of time flying when you were having fun- and the opposite being true when you were being tortured.
He’d stopped listening or responding a while ago. He’d told the truth first. Who was Justin? He was a butcher. That was pretty much it. If Erkan had known something that could get Justin in trouble… they were friends, but he wasn’t really sure whether or not he could have held up. However, he didn’t know anything. Since he got stabbed even when he said the truth, he made up some lies… to the same results. Now, he wasn’t going to answer at all. There was no point. Erkan hoped he would pass out soon… or maybe even just die. That might be better.
Savina followed the smell of fresh blood up to the third floor of a cheap hotel, the sort that all the doors led directly outside. She was too slow… or her quarry was too fast. At least it was fresh blood. Erkan was still alive… for the moment. She had to do something as quickly as possible… but she wasn’t much good in a straight up fight.
Savina reached her hand into her purse and pulled out a box cutter. “Dammit Erkan…” she muttered as she then drew the box cutter along one wrist. Blood spurted out and trickled down her finger, which she furiously scrawled across the ground.
She had to hurry. She could be noticed at any time, and she could smell Erkan’s blood and hear his breathing becoming ragged and his heartbeat increasing- which was not a good sign. At any time, the man in there torturing him in there could take notice of his surroundings and come for Savina, and she needed to be ready before then.
Her finger jumped from point to point, blood ceasing its flow just as needed to waste none of it. Finally her finger finished inscribing the smallest of the three circles. “Can’t let us be heard… waste of blood.”
She stood up straight and backed away from the door, holding her left arm behind her back. “Come on out, you thin-blooded coward!” she shouted.
There were a few moments of silence, at least to normal ears… then the door creaked open and out stepped a pale man holding a bloody knife. “I don’t like being interrupted…” he scowled.
“I am Savina Nervetti. I’ve already called Nico Nervetti. This is your one chance to leave in one piece.”
“So what?” the man brandished his knife, “I’m not a bleeding heart like your family, too afraid to act.” He sprang forward, stabbing toward Savina’s chest.
For a brief moment, he was a blur of motion. Then he stopped. The knife was an inch away from Savina’s chest, the hilt and his wrist surrounded by red tendrils. He strained to push forward, then to pull the knife away… but couldn’t move. His other hand suddenly flashed around, claws extending as they stabbed into Savina’s stomach. Then the sound of gunshots rang out.
On a steady pace bullet after bullet struck the man in the side, for a total of six. The man looked over to his left with disdain. “Really?” At that moment, Savina grabbed the knife and twisted it out of the hand of the man, then sliced toward him.
Even without looking, he dodged backwards, tearing his arm away from the red tendrils. The knife barely scraped across his cheek. “Forget it,” he said as he turned to the right, away from where the gun was fired, “Not worth my time.” With a blur of movement, he ran a dozen yards and jumped over the railing.
Savina stood motionless for a few seconds, then dropped the knife. She rushed toward the door of the hotel room, only pausing momentarily to look toward the stairwell, “Do something useful and call an ambulance!”
The sound of gunshots snapped Erkan out of his stupor. His chest twinged, both from the lingering pain of the bullet wounds and the half dozen knew cuts and stabs. Then he heard Savina’s voice. He couldn’t lift his head- it was held down somehow- but he saw her enter the room out of the corner of his eye.
“Dammit… dammit… dammit…” He heard a sticky sort of splash as she stepped into the puddle of blood next to the bed. He wasn’t sure how much it was, but he was dizzy so it was probably… well, he couldn’t do the math. A lot. Savina stooped down next to the bed, then placed her finger on his chest. It felt nice. It was warm, even though it was a little wet. He felt her tracing patterns on his chest. It was comforting.
Erkan tried to talk, but his voice didn’t come out. Well, it was probably a stupid idea anyway. It would just make him die even faster. Given that he was pretty sure he’d lost almost half the blood in his body, he couldn’t afford to lose any more. He had, what, a gallon and a bit of blood? 5 liters? So two liters was dangerous. Ah, there was that math. Kind of pathetic last thoughts to have, but what could he do?
If Erkan had asked what he thought dying from blood loss would be like… well, he wouldn’t have said that it suddenly came with warmth and clarity of thought at the end. He thought he’d just get colder and colder as his consciousness faded out. Instead, he was met with surprise. Maybe nobody ever talked about it because they didn’t survive after this point.
A minute later, he was thinking that maybe he wasn’t going to die at all. Everything still hurt… but he wasn’t dead. He was nice and warm and Savina was holding onto his hand- and he could feel it. “Hold on Erkan. An ambulance should be here soon. Just… hold on.”
“Okay.” Erkan tilted his head to the side. He could just barely see Savina’s face from the light coming in the door. “Are you okay? You look pretty pale.” He couldn’t help but laugh at that. He was the one bleeding to death, after all. Laughing hurt… but it still felt pretty good. The humor helped him forget why he was bleeding to death in the first place.