Trapped
05 Dec 2020Today’s prompt: “Describe a moment in which you were in physical pain.”
It’s not merely that the bear trap has broken the skin on your leg – it’s the fact that its massive springs are digging the thick metal teeth into your muscles. You begin to understand why animals will chew off their own legs to get out of these things.
Unlike most animal species, however, you have opposable thumbs. You set to work prying apart the trap’s jaws. You open it a few centimeters and are just moving your leg when the shifting movement makes you newly aware of the pain, sending shock waves wracking your entire body. Your left thumb slips. The trap closes on your already mangled calf, and you cry out.
Stupid. Stupid. Focus this time. You change your grip and force the trap apart, pushing this time rather than pulling. You cautiously remove your leg, then adjust your grip and let the trap snap back together harmlessly.
You consider taking off your shirt to use it as a makeshift bandage until you can get back to your car, back to civilization. But then you hear the baying. And you remember the farmhouse you saw near here. The farmhouse with the ominous bloodstains on the door frame. The farmhouse where you saw a large dog chewing what looked a lot like an adult human femur. And suddenly you’re positive that that bear trap wasn’t set for bears.
You start to move on a path away from the farmhouse and circuitously toward the road, but even with the most gingerly steps, sharp pains explode through your lower leg. All you can do is hobble, as the dog’s howls get closer, and then the footsteps, and then the sound of a shotgun being cocked.