His jaw practically fell on the floor when the woman's wrists became blades. Not only was it disgusting but it was... no, it was just disgusting.

Holding back the vomit, he snaked it back down his throat. He was not ready for this. Sure, he could handle dead bodies. The scent of burning flesh? Yeah, no big deal.

BUT BLADES COMING OUT OF WRISTS?! WHO THE HELL THOUGHT THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA?!

Feeling faint, he grabbed his head before nodding.

"Very well, my knight, I, the fair princess, shall round up my good people while you hold those poo poos off."

If she thought him odd before, his choice of words were probably making her question his true age. There was rumors that the serum could alter your looks. Perhaps he was just a little boy? No, there was no way he was a kid. ... was there?

Moving toward some of the injured, he coaxed them up and out of the damaged facility. It wasn't fast and it wasn't pretty, but it would have to do. A lot of the captives were bleeding or burned. You could tell that this all came as a shock to them as they wore very sad and frightened eyes. It didn't help that the white-haired woman behind them was lopping off heads and causing more bloodshed.

"Just keep your eyes forward," he whispered to those that trembled. "She's on our side. We'll get you out of here and to safety."

So far, he had managed to get nine of them out and running toward the hills. Flicking his head back, he noted that there were three left, excluding he and the woman.

"I've got you," he cooed to the cowering woman before him. "Right this way, my dear." His words were sweet, and drew a small smile on her face. "That a girl," he encouraged her on.

When their hands collided, Melik winced. Something... something got him right in the knee.

Glancing down, he spied the woman doubled over in front of him. No, not doubled over... more like... attached to his knee?

As he tried to step back, an even sharper pain caused him to collapse. "Ouch, ouch, ouch," he panted.

Based on the blood that spooled form the woman's back, she was dead. And, based on the large, wooden stack that jutted from her heart, he didn't have to guess how or why. One of the guards must have thrown something.

Slowly, he peeled her corpse from his leg. God did it hurt though. It hurt a lot. He tried to yank the wooden stake out but it seemed pretty tight. And it likely made some form of contact with his leg, which would explain the pain.

Finally, with the woman off, he was able to discern what had really happened.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" His eyes grew wide before his face fell a pale, clammy color. Sickened, he bit his lip before adverting his eyes.

"Okay," he panted, "okay you can do this. It's just a harpoon. It's just molesting your leg. It'll be okay. You just gotta--"

A blood-curdling scream followed.

Hands trembling to the point of not being able to stop, he dropped the unlodged harpoon. Casting it to the side, he just sat there, frozen.

His chest was raising and falling faster than it should have. The clenched jaw a sure sign that he was in tremendous pain. His nostrils flaired as a cold sweat drenched his body.

There was no way in hell he was moving in this condition.

The other two survivors had managed to escape, completely abandoning he and the woman with the gross blade-arms.

Closing his eyes, he swung his head to glance at the woman. "You should," he was growing tired. The loss of blood was taking its toll on him. "Go."