Ficlets

Not Enough Limbs, Aye?

Steve slowly opened his eyes, to see a metal ceiling only a few feet from his face. “What the-” he said. He glanced around his surroundings. Wait, he was moving! He was in the back of some sort of vehicle.

“Oh. My. God.”

He looked down at his body. Or what was left. His left leg and left arm weren’t There. All he saw, was, well, nothing. He rolled around nervously. Steve became frightened as beads of sweat trembled down his worried face.

The truck he was in stopped. He heard doors opening and closing. Then a shuffle to the back of the vehicle. The door opened and revealed that it was night. A shadow greater than the night itself loomed over him as he tried to squirm away.

Another shadow joined in, and picked him up and laid him on a stretcher. “Hey! Get the-,” but he was cut off as a gag silenced him. Muffled yells, and the the thudding of boots was all that could be heared. Steve could just make out another object swing towards his face as he was then brought back into unconsciousness.*

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