This is just a little piece I wrote when I was bored. It's not the beginning or the end of anything. I haven't posted in a while and I just felt like posting something.
“No!” I yelled.
The knife plunged into the dark flesh behind his knee, slicing and parting skin, sinew and everything besides. There were screams of pure pain and agony. I went completely still.
Blood spurted out of the wound, hitting him full in the face. He was still grinning evilly, and when the blood sprayed into his open mouth, he licked it slowly off his teeth, laughing.
He pulled the knife right through and replaced it in at his belt. He turned and walked to the truck, shouting orders as though he had just come back from a smoke break.
They let me go in disgust, striding back to the truck. My knees buckled and I fell in front of the screaming figure. He was writhing, clutching the back of his knee. Blood spurted into the sand and seeped steadily through his white clothes, staining them a deep red. I pulled my kerchief from my neck and bunched it up on the wound, but I knew there was no chance. My eyes started burning, along with my throat and nose. My lip trembled and tears leaked.
“Bizo!” Nutan yelled from the back of the truck. I looked back at him and saw tears streaming down his face. “Bizo!”
Bizo was screaming too loudly to hear him. He squirmed onto his back and grabbed my shirt, pulling me down to his face. At the same time a hand gripped my upper arm and started pulling me away.
“No!” Bizo yelled, pulling me down again. His eyes popped out, he seemed mad with pain. “You have to promise! You have to get him back!”
The hand on my arm ripped me back. “You have to! Promise me!”
One of the men started dragging me back to the truck. My throat was too sore to speak. The tears were running down my face too fast to see.
Nutan was wailing now and my shoulders shook. Bizo crawled closer, trailing blood behind him. They dragged me to the truck, throwing me in the back with the others. Nutan grabbed me around the waist and screamed. I wanted to shout. To scream, to jump out and do something, but if I did, they’d kill me too. Bizo’s hand extended toward the truck and his eyes were completely wild with fear and pain.
“You have to keep Nutan safe!” Bizo screamed.
His voice rang out through the desert landscape. It was all I could hear as I the truck doors slammed shut and the canvas covering the back of the truck was pulled close and we were plunged into darkness.