Camp Red Lake

Chapter 14. Pit

*Trigger warning for blood and gore in this chapter*

 (Drip, Drip, Drip)

"Ohh..." I groaned as I sat up. My head and face ached. I could hear water dripping from somewhere. I glanced around and noticed I was in a dark and musty place.

"Hazel? Are you okay?" Croy's voice filled me with relief.

"Yeah, I'm fine, where are you?" I asked anxiously. It was hard to see.

"Behind you." He wheezed. I turned around and sure enough, managed to pinpoint the mound of golden hair on his head. Quickly, I crawled towards him. When I reached him, I noticed that he was clutching his stomach.

"Are you okay?" I asked warily. His complexion was pasty and sweaty. He shook his head before glancing down. I followed his gaze to his stomach; my heart sank to my knees when I noticed the dark liquid oozing out from between his fingers.

"Croy you're hurt!" I gasped in horror. "Tell me how I can help!" I begged, my eyes watering.

"Your bag." He began in a ragged voice as he motioned behind me. I got up and retrieved it.

"I've got it."

"Do you still have the first aid kit they gave us during this week's health seminar?" He asked through clenched teeth.

"Yes, I still have it!" I exclaimed as I opened the bag and pulled out the red pack.

"Okay, I'm going to need your help with something important." He wheezed again.

"Anything, what do you need me to do?" I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

"I need you...to help me take my shirt off..." He trailed off before tensing again.

"Okay, lift your arms." I instructed. Croy clenched his eyes shut and lifted his arms above his head for a second. Hastily, I yanked the black t-shirt over his head.

"Aggh!" He groaned as he covered his cut again. Blood continued to ooze out of it. My stomach churned at the sight of so much blood. "Hazel, concentrate. " His agonized voice pulled me back.

"I'm okay, what do you need me to do next?" He motioned towards the opened kit.

"You see that saline solution?" I nodded as I picked up the bottle. "I need you to pour some on my cut. After that, I want you to take that needle and thread, and stitch me back up." Another wave of pain caused him to wince.

"What!? Croy, I don't know how to do that! What if I do it wrong and I hurt you?" I asked anxiously.

"Read the instructions on the needle packets. It'll tell you how to thread them." He huffed; his features contorted with pain.

"You need a doctor! Why don't we call for help?" He shook his head.

"No one is coming for us. This is the only way. I think it's just a flesh wound; I should be fine after you stitch me up." He hissed.

"But I—"

"Stop it! Can you for once, just do what I'm asking!? Do you want me to bleed out!?" He asked, more aggravated than before.

"No, I don't want anything bad to happen to you." I mumbled as I picked up the needle and thread. It took me a few tries, but eventually I managed to thread it correctly. Once everything was prepared, I handed Croy his T-shirt. He rolled it up like a burrito and placed it in his mouth.

"Ready?" I asked anxiously. He gave me a quick nod and bit into the shirt as he took his hand off the cut. My gag reflex nearly made me sick when I laid eyes on the gaping, five inch slit he had on his side. Once I regained my composure, I poured the solution over his wound. He flinched a little.