I was tied up, couldn’t move. No, I wasn’t tied up I could see my arms, limp, pale and skinny. Powerless, just laying on my lap. Why wouldn’t they move? Was I paralysed? I panicked, that bullet – it must have caught me in the spine, wormed its way to the column of nerves that carried everything to my… legs? Wait, I’d have to have been shot in the neck for my arms not to work.
A hand grabbed my loose hair and forced my face upwards, I could do nothing to resist it.
It was Mike, his grinning face filled my field of view. At first it had seemed so jovial and cheeky. Now I’d seen a darker version, one with a hunger, his father’s. It sent a cold chill down my spine.
He looked down on me, eyes burning into mine.
“Do you know what it feels like to bleed to death Alexis?” He asked. I couldn’t respond even if I had anything to say. “The blood pressure in your femoral artery is two pounds per square inch. Say I accidentally… Oops.”
I felt a stinging sensation in my thigh. It felt like nothing, a splinter. I couldn’t even turn my head to look.
“It will pump out a litre of blood every 40 seconds, within a minute you will experience peripheral vasoconstriction, your arteries constrict to keep the blood to your major organs.”
The pain dragged down my leg, it was worse now – spiking out into my flesh.
“After two your blood pressure drops, heart rate increases and you start peripheral hypoperfusion.”
I felt my vision darken around the edges, my useless body began to shake and shiver uncontrollably. I was breathing fast and shallow.
“Three minutes? Your body can no longer compensate, your brain is starved of oxygen. That means unconsciousness, coma, brain damage. You die.”
Was I going to die?