Cw: mc death, drugging, wound cleaning and stitches
Whumpee is in bad shape. They're losing blood and their wounds are covered in dirt but they're free now, stumbling through the woods. They're running, running, running, and they will never stop. At least, until they come across a log cabin. It looks like someone's home. Do they stop and ask for help? Whumpee bites their lip and dances back and forth while they decide when they're grabbed from behind. "Hey there, stranger! I don't see many- hey are you ok?" Whumpee nearly jumped a foot in the air. "Um no. No. I'm not ok. Could you please help me?" Whumpee decided to trust this person because there wasn't really any other option. Bleed out, or trust the random woodsperson.
"Oh my gods yeah let's get you inside! Can you make it inside or do I need to carry you?" "Thanks but I think I can do it myself." "Are you sure?" "No, but I don't really know you that well." "Maaaan and I thought we were friends!" "I-I don't know you?" By the end of their bickering, they were inside and Whumpee was on the couch.
"Here, take these." Caretaker holds out their hand with a few pills in their palm. "For the pain. We'll be needing to get you cleaned up and I won't lie, friend, it's not going to feel good." Whumpee takes the pills and the cup from their other hand and downs them both before being led to the bathroom. As the water heats up, Whumpee starts to feel dizzy. Probably the steam. Or the blood loss. "Can I have some juice or something to eat? I'm feeling a bit faint." "Sure, sure, let me clean you first. You should be ok until then, right, friend?" "Uh, ok." A little odd but fine. I'll be ok.
A towel is shoved in Whumpee's mouth. "Mmmfph?!" "Bite down." Before Whumpee could react, hot water was poured into a dirty gash. The pain is like lightning through Whumpee's body. Through Whumpee's screams, Caretaker apologizes profusely as they move as fast as possible, cleaning and stitching to get Whumpee out of the woods per se.
By the end, Whumpee is clinging to consciousness and breathing heavily as they are led to the kitchen and plopped into a chair. Through their haze of pain, Whumpee hears Caretaker babble on "-so sorry" "-had to do it" "-didn't want anything to get infected"
Soon enough, a bowl of oatmeal with chocolate chips sprinkled on top is presented to Whumpee. "Here, you could use a little sugar and a good meal." Whumpee's stomach growls. They can't remember the last time they'd eaten. They try to finish their bowl but goodness they are just. So. Tired. Gently, they are led to a spare bedroom where they take the first good rest they'd have in months.
They're groggy when they wake, and their limbs feel like cement. They turn their head to survey their surroundings and there is Caretaker, standing at a table they hadn't noticed before. It seemed to have tools laid out on a tablecloth. Maybe this is where they stored their tools? Or perhaps it was time for more field medicine?
"Ah you're awake! Hello! Hello! Welcome to my operating theater!" "Hhheuroperatintheaughter?" Whumpee can't speak very well, their tongue feels heavy. "Yes! You want to hear something funny, friend?" Caretaker New Whumper pulled a large knife from behind their back as they stood over Whumpee. "There are TWO dangerous people on this mountain. The first, you already escaped from, and me! Aren't you lucky?"
Whumpee is swimming through their thoughts and what they were just told. With the amount of drugs in their system, all they manage to slur out was "oh. You're not a friend at all. Are you?"
With a patronizing smile, New Whumper looks down and said "No. I'm afraid I'm not." The knife plunges into Whumpee's chest.
