Hey Adora

We have to cut it

Bow fell to the floor, narrowly missing the weight of the bottle.

"Bow!" Micah exclaimed, setting down his side of the payload.

"I'm okay," Bow wheezed. The truth was, he wasn't fine. His legs ached from carry a burden, the feeling in his arms had gone, leaving him numb from the shoulders. His chest threatened to cave in, allowing him to suffocate.
Micah looked around, agitated. Bow knew he wanted to keep going, he probably could. Micah was strong, his arms were ripped with muscle as a result of his time lost on this very island. Bow was strong, but he hadn't the time working on his form that Micah did.

"Rest," Micah said, "it doesn't seem that they have moved, so we can assume they're okay."

"I'm sorry," Bow rasped.

"Its okay, son." Micah assured him, handing him a canteen. Bow drank the water vigorously, forgetting momentarily that their resources were limited.

"I can't feel my legs," Bow told him.

"Are you hurt?" Micah asked, crouching next to him.

"I don't think so, maybe they are just over exerted."

"Give it a few minutes, if you still can't move them then we have some thinking to do." Bow nodded, trying not to panic. He knew what would happen if he couldn't get his muscles to move. Micah would have to leave him here with as much rations as he could, while he went to re group. They'd come back for him, assuming nothing went wrong.

He tried not to think about it, instead focusing on the dots blinking on the tablet, letting him know his friends were alive.

"I'm coming," he whispered, "just hold on a bit longer Catra."

___________________________________________

"NOW!" Catra shouted, grunting. The weight of the door threatened to crush her. She tried not to think about the concrete coming down on her tail, or her spine. Melog hissed in pain, her companion exerting its telekinesis. Seahawk got under the door, pushing with his legs.

Castaspella crawled through, seemingly propelling herself with a magic force.

"Safe!" She shouted once she hand made it through. Catra relaxed, allowing herself to drop the weight.

"Catra!" Seahawk called. She turned just in time to watch the door come down and Seahwak jump out of the way- mostly.

He was pulled back with a jolt, his sleeve getting stuck on the slab, and Catra watched in horror as it came down on his hand. Seahwak wailed in pain, his scream echoing in the chamber. Catra's heart was racing, her mind unable to process what had just happened.

"Seahawk!" Castaspella shouted, running to him. Tears spilled from his eyes, staining the concrete. Castaspella pulled him but Catra stopped her.

Her heart caught in her throat when she realized what needed to be done. Seahawk wailed at the pulling.

"I can't feel my hand!" He cried. Catra watched him begin to hyperventilate.

"Melog," she directed, "try to sedate him." The already exhausted creature went up to Seahawk, connecting to his emotions. Catra watched with a sickly feeling in her stomach as he was put to sleep, or rather cured of his panicked state.

"Catra what are you doing?" Castaspella asked, worry in her eyes.

"We have to cut it," Catra choked.

"What?"

"We have to cut it," she spoke again.

"We can't!"

"We have to! All the bones are already crushed, and we can't lift that door again. We have to cut it, Castaspella. We'll tie my shirt around it and seal off the bleeding, and then we go back to the ship, this mission is over."

"But-"

"But nothing. All we can do is hope the others had better luck than we did." Catra felt a tear fall off her cheek. She was disgusted by what she was about to do, but she could tell by the look in the other woman's eye that's she would have to do this. Seahawk couldn't lay here, waiting for help. They needed to go, and now.

Catra took the sword from his belt, gulping.

Don't throw up, she told herself, they weren't in a position to waste food. Seahawk stirred and she worried he would wake, and watch what she was doing. She lifted the sword in the air, feeling her stomach gurgle and she made a plan to turn away because puking was inevitable.

Seahawk may never forgive her for this, but she had to do it.

She had to cut off his hand.

He stirred, and Melog's tired eyes suggested it couldn't maintain this for much longer.

Catra raised the sword above her head, taking a deep breath and bringing it down before she could change her mind. The sound of steel hitting flesh echoed in the chamber, and she raised the sword again, crying. Castaspella puked in the corner, her cries of disgust and terror ringing in Catra's ears.

She brought the sword down again, this time it hit the concrete as she severed the bone. Blood splattered onto her face and she looked away, loosing her lunch.

She pulled her shirt off, picking up what remained of Seahawk's limb and wrapping the fabric around it.

"I need help," she said, watching the blood soak through. Castaspella came closer, only to puke again.

"Castaspella!" She yelled, "I need help!"

"I can't," the older woman said, crying and puking.

"You have too. We can't let him bleeding out." The older woman gathered her strength, holding in what she had left in her to drag Seahawk enough for Catra to tie the fabric over his arm.

"He's going to bleed," Castaspella said.

"Then we better get moving." Catra replied. She lifted him, putting his bloody arm across her shoulder. Castaspella took the other side, her face still green.

"Come melog," Catra said, feeling her cat brush against her.

Tired, exhausted, and dismissed they trudged back through the hall, hoping Bow and Micah were close.

Hey all how it be? I've been writing a lot recently, sadly just not on here. Scholarship essays are so tiresome.

Anyway, this was a dark chapter but it's all part of a bigger story just remember that.

Always nice to hear from you so I look forward to your comments!