I had a solid choke on my forearm but blood was still surging through my fingers. Unsteadily, I caved to my knees, my thoughts were muddled. “Where is my arm? Gotta find it…... What good would that do? I’m gonne die, I NEED TO STOP THE BLOOD !” My head trembled as I clumsily grappled the stump, pressing and struggling to halt the scarlet flood. “Its gotta stop…” my voice shrill in desperation.”Stop…stop….stop…” I was crushing my arm against the floor, clenching my eyes in determination. I collapsed on the floor, with one demanded eye I focused at the stub. The deluge had stopped. I closed my eye and slowly exhaled, letting myself slip unconscious.
My eyelids were heavy, my beard deeply caked in dried reddish copper gore, concreted my face to the carpet. I could see it, my ensanguined arm, it was there… I must have dreamed… no I couldn’t feel it though… I reached out to massage my arm and my fingers passed through it… I thought it was covered in blood… when in fact, it was made of blood.