Dark strands of hair flailed about my head as I spun around, arms snaking its way through the

So much pain, so much blood. Everything was fuzzy, people looked like splotches blocking my vision. The yelling. It’s getting louder. I look for light, but only darkness is here now. There. Under the door. I try my hardest to lift the fallen door, but a shooting pain propels up my leg so I stop. “

I lay there for a minute, unable to move, colored lights dancing in front of my eyes. I heard my ragged

I flew into his room to find his bed empty.I started to panic ,He had been that he was very restless and tired because of those loud monsters partying until the nic of dawn.As I

Tonight he wouldn’t get much sleep. He hugged his arms to his chest and let his teeth chatter. He hadn’t been this cold since he had nearly drowned trying to escape more than a year ago. “It’s warmer in the cabin if you want.” Called Peter’s hesitant voice.”

I lift my head from my ball-like figure and scan the kitchen for something. When my eyes land on it, terror fills every inch of my body. But I reach for it anyway with tears streaming violently down my face. The tip of the knife is sharp, seeing as I just sharpened the blade a couple days ago. I guess I knew that it might come to this.

I awoke to a cacophony of screams, both of excitement and of pain. I jolted up quickly, unable to control my own muscles or vocal chords, as if a spectre was holding me back with airy fingers of death.

“You okay?” the voice asked. I bolted up and and stared at the boy sitting on a chair at the foot of the bed, talking to me. He had chocolate brown hair, caramel colored eyes, looked pretty tall, and about my age. Instead of wearing the all white outfit I had seen the other males wearing in the eerie room, he wore a white V-neck t-shirt with blue jeans, and a pair of expensive looking brown shoes. I broke my gaze with him to look at myself. I was still wearing the white dress, barefoot, and my hair still hung at my

He doesn’t feel cold. That’s good, right? He isn’t in pain either. He’s still bleeding, which means his heart is still pumping. Pounding, in fact, a frantic tempo.

I woke up in a cold sweat, screaming and struggling to move my restrained arms. The night guards ripped open the heavy steel door to see what was wrong. The creature was standing in the corner looking right at me. I was pulling my arms against the leather restrains trying to point the naive guards to the cause of my appalling state. The

Slowly, I awoke to see looming trees all around me, bending over me, watching. Listening. They heard the screams, they heard my screams, I was still screaming. I clamped a trembling hand down over my mouth to only realize it was closed, my lips rolled in. And then thick as velvet. The blood pooled.

The Author will firstly discuss why the ‘Vital Signs’ would be; followed by both the immediate treatment that should be given and the intervention needed from more advanced medical personnel.

was struck, but was conscious throughout the ordeal. Do to the amount of blood loss

Asami groaned in the darkness, the grogginess of her nap hanging over her like a storm-cloud. She stretched, splaying out across her bed, not quite sure which way the bedhead was facing, or whether or not she was still on her bed or simply curled up in her sheets lying on the floor. The alarm on her phone screamed through the room.

I batted my eyelashes lined with sleep. For a moment, I was disoriented to where I was. I felt around the soft bed, waving around my arms frantically. The area next to we was cold; Ross was gone. I pushed my senses to get up, tempting myself with visions

A man paces within the room, his black leather boots clattering against the creaking wood over and over again. He was deeply tan, his skin an olive hue, and his head was topped with a messy mop of grey hair. His face was chiseled and angular, but not untouched by the wrinkles of age. His chin had rough stubble running as a five-o 'clock shadow. Across his left eye ran an old scar, coming from the top left and ending at the start of his nose. His other eye was a deep blue, intently looking towards the worn paint on the floor boards. He was adorned in a light leather vest, metal studs patterned across it to accommodate chainmail, if the need arose for it, and to his side was a thin sword, the hilt finely crafted with a intricate, geometric design stretching across the scratched and scuffed cage. He stands tall, easily clearing six feet, his upper body broad and well kept. He stops dead as he hears the old door creak, turning his one good eye to the new visitors with a deathly glare. "Who are you?"