Day 2 Evening

[Trixie]

Trixie wiped the blood from her face almost instinctually. Rubbing the crimson fluid from her fingers she hobbled over to a small rock outcropping. Whatever the syringe had done to her was amazing as well as terrifying. The new found strength was heavenly, but it was doing something to her body she couldn’t control. On top of that the knife she had been stuck with was definitely coated with a poison; a plague had broken out on her skin spreading across her torso. After that encounter Trixie could barely put any weight on her leg now at all. Pressing her back to the cold stone of a large boulder submerged in the ground she slid down to her butt and sighed. Her mind raced with the desire for sustenance. Pressing her left hand to her injured leg she felt the oozing black liquid racing from the open gash beneath her makeshift bandage. The wrapped piece of woolen cloth was completely saturated with black blood. The only thing the bandage was doing now was promoting fungal growth. Part of her was desperately trying to rip another piece of her tunic away from her stomach to wrap the wound in, the other part could care less that she had been injured at all. In fact, she wanted to return so she could attempt to eat the flesh of more victims.

What the fuck is wrong with me?”

The waning sunlight beat down on her pale flesh as the gentle breeze blew her matted and blood soaked hair about her face. With a grimace of pain, the mistress stretched her arms backward and pulled loose the knot that kept her leather tunic tightly secured to her chest. Pulling on the cords woven into each side of the abdominal area she loosened the armor and peeled it away from her injured torso. Lifting it up and over her head the Sith Warrior tossed the damaged tunic aside. Ripping the remainder of the woolen undershirt from her person she exposed her sports bra and bosom to the fresh air. Most of the skin on her chest, including her breasts, had turned a sickly greenish color and hurt to the touch. The single entry wound under her ribcage from the shiv she had been stuck with had slowed to an ooze. With a soft cry Trixie tore the used makeshift bandage from her leg wound and tossed it away. Ripping her shirt in half she tied a new bandage around her injured leg and secured it tightly. Pulling the final loop through her knot she pulled it taught with all the strength she had, biting down hard through the pain, as she attempted to ebb the loss of blood.

“Whatever magic afflicts this forsaken island…no regeneration abilities.” Beatrix mouthed to herself, examining the stab wound on her stomach.

With a sigh the mistress leaned, painfully, to grab her discarded chest armor. Unfolding the leather tunic, she examined the inside part of the chest piece where her bosom would rest. Ripping at the leather with her nails she exposed the fine underwire that was meant to provide support in combat. With a sigh that blew the hair from her eyes, Trixie pinched down on a piece of wire and pulled it from its’ place in the cured leather. Measuring around five inches in length she bent one end into a makeshift bulb and pressed down on the stab wound on her stomach. Leaning back, she pierced the skin with the other end and began the long clumsy process of sewing a makeshift stitch using the underwire. Pulling the wire taught with both fingers she tied it as neatly as could and collapsed onto her side. The new bandage on her leg had already begun to saturate and the ground underneath her leg felt wet.

“Without a way to stop the bleeding…It may not even matter. Whatever that serum was…”

Exhausted and unable to keep her mind awake any longer the mistress passed out just as the sun sank below the horizon.