CYOA: Nights Hotter Than the Barrel of My Gun: New Edition
- Thread starter Bretimus_v2
- Start date
Bretimus_v2
So tired.
No! Doc Brown runs the Blacksmith.
MasterRabbi
Rookie
Doc. Worse case we find some Morphine.
WickedLiquid
Regular
Main St. You can never go wrong with a main street.
Bretimus_v2
So tired.
Page 70, The Best Medicine
Luke exhaled deeply. Felt like it took a week just to get to Doc's door.
The lights were out inside and the door was locked. Luke removed a pistol from its holster, but he paused before breaking the window. Doc was one of the few friendly faces in town. Felt a shame to ruin his window, let alone the friendship they shared. So Luke knocked...and waited. Then he knocked harder.
Finally the latch popped and the door swung open. A shotgun appeared, followed by a bearded face, and a little bit of spittle.
"First you wake me up with your shootin' and now ya want fixin'? Well, sir, enough has gone wrong today that I don't..."
Doc stopped short as his eyes adjusted and he finally saw Luke. They grew wide and he whistled low. "Weeeeell, shit...look what the horse dragged back in."
Luke grimaced as he laughed. It hurt. He hurt. But the laughter still felt good. He was glad he had come and now he needed three things.
"Doc, I need you to stop the bleeding, I need something for my pain, and I need it quick."
Doc led him to a low table and helped him sit.
"Well, Luke, the good news is I reckon the bleeding will stop soon with how much blood you've lost. But more importantly, don't tell a man how to do his job. It's inconsiderate and betrays the fact that you came to him for the help in the first place. First things first, drink this."
He handed him a bottle labeled "morphorm".
"Bought that tincture off a trader a while back. It's part morphine, part chloroform. They're using it to treat cholera. It dulls the pain, mental and physical. NOT TOO MUCH, DAMMIT! I'll have to carry you out of here," he yelled as he grabbed the bottle from Luke, "I said chloroform...it'll knock you out if you have too much. Idiot."
He took a deep breath as he surveyed the damage. " Well, here's the long and the short...I can stitch you back together, but that'd be about as much work as getting that your shirt back into one piece...or I can just sear the skin with a skillet. Your choice, friend."
Luke felt his stomach turn and room got a little fuzzy. Was it the drink or the blood loss?
Stitch me up, page 46.
Sear it, page 64.
Luke exhaled deeply. Felt like it took a week just to get to Doc's door.
The lights were out inside and the door was locked. Luke removed a pistol from its holster, but he paused before breaking the window. Doc was one of the few friendly faces in town. Felt a shame to ruin his window, let alone the friendship they shared. So Luke knocked...and waited. Then he knocked harder.
Finally the latch popped and the door swung open. A shotgun appeared, followed by a bearded face, and a little bit of spittle.
"First you wake me up with your shootin' and now ya want fixin'? Well, sir, enough has gone wrong today that I don't..."
Doc stopped short as his eyes adjusted and he finally saw Luke. They grew wide and he whistled low. "Weeeeell, shit...look what the horse dragged back in."
Luke grimaced as he laughed. It hurt. He hurt. But the laughter still felt good. He was glad he had come and now he needed three things.
"Doc, I need you to stop the bleeding, I need something for my pain, and I need it quick."
Doc led him to a low table and helped him sit.
"Well, Luke, the good news is I reckon the bleeding will stop soon with how much blood you've lost. But more importantly, don't tell a man how to do his job. It's inconsiderate and betrays the fact that you came to him for the help in the first place. First things first, drink this."
He handed him a bottle labeled "morphorm".
"Bought that tincture off a trader a while back. It's part morphine, part chloroform. They're using it to treat cholera. It dulls the pain, mental and physical. NOT TOO MUCH, DAMMIT! I'll have to carry you out of here," he yelled as he grabbed the bottle from Luke, "I said chloroform...it'll knock you out if you have too much. Idiot."
He took a deep breath as he surveyed the damage. " Well, here's the long and the short...I can stitch you back together, but that'd be about as much work as getting that your shirt back into one piece...or I can just sear the skin with a skillet. Your choice, friend."
Luke felt his stomach turn and room got a little fuzzy. Was it the drink or the blood loss?
Stitch me up, page 46.
Sear it, page 64.
cyberjim2000
Veteran
Sear it, like a man.
danielrbischoff
Rookie
cyberjim2000 said:
MasterRabbi
Rookie
Ain't got no time, sear the wound then back to huntin'!
Bretimus_v2
So tired.
Page 64, Sizzle
As he sat on the table waiting for the skillet to heat up, Luke felt a strange warmth filling him. All the lights grew a bit brighter and all the shadows grew a bit darker. Sounds seemed to echo. His mouth felt dry.
"Hey, Doc, I think the morphorm is kicking in."
He looked behind him expecting to see the bearded face of Doc, but instead he saw her.
"Doc," he drawled, his head feeling fuzzy.
There was no answer. She just stood there watching him from a dark doorway.
"I'm sorry," he cried, "you don't deserve this."
She just stared back. He couldn't look at her, tears burned his eyes and he blinked them away.
"Of course I don't deserve this," Doc replied as he entered the room, "I should be in bed asleep, but that's life. And a bit better than what you have in store."
Luke frantically searched the room. Where had she gone.
"Luke...are you alright? You look like you saw a ghost," Doc asked, inspecting his friend's eyes.
Luke shook his head, "Sorry, must be the medicine."
"Yeah, well, bite down on this, you'll be glad that you're kind of out of it in a second here."
Doc helped Luke onto his stomach and started his work. Next to Luke's head sat a ceramic bowl and with each 'plink', he knew that Doc had pulled something new out of his back. First came the bullet, it had lodged in his scapula, next were rocks, pieces of wood, and glass. Then there was a slight pause. Luke looked over his shoulder to find Doc looking at the ground. He sat on his work stool, hands on his knees, softly crying.
"Doc, it's alright. What happened, happened. It's not pretty, it's just life."
Doc looked up, "but why did it have to happen? People have said things to Ross before and he just keeps being Ross. Pushes them, spits at 'em, maybe draws his gun to scare 'em. But never this. It makes you wonder if it's because you..."
"Just finish your work," Luke interrupted, "then I can go and ask him personally."
"What!?! Is that what you're planning on doing? Why the hell am I doing all this work just so you can get shot in your damn fool head?"
Doc exhaled loudly.
"Lie down. I'm going to do this and then you're going to get out of my house and never come back."
Luke looked at the other man. Anger and shame filled him, but he wouldn't be the first to look away. But Doc didn't care. He took a hand and pressed it into Luke's bleeding back. Luke laid down quickly, trying to get away from the painful pressure. He put the leather in his mouth and closed his eyes.
Sizzle.
The hiss of the iron on his back was mere background noise compared to the roaring pain. He wanted to squirm, he wanted to get away but he needed to have the wounds closed. Doc didn't stop once he had started, he kept moving the skillet around from spot to spot until the awful work was done. It only took a few minutes before Doc lifted the skillet back.
"Now get out!"
Luke didn't look back as he grabbed his guns and left.
Go the the Sheriff's front door, page 12.
Go to the back door, page 15.
Stand out front and yell, page 26.
As he sat on the table waiting for the skillet to heat up, Luke felt a strange warmth filling him. All the lights grew a bit brighter and all the shadows grew a bit darker. Sounds seemed to echo. His mouth felt dry.
"Hey, Doc, I think the morphorm is kicking in."
He looked behind him expecting to see the bearded face of Doc, but instead he saw her.
"Doc," he drawled, his head feeling fuzzy.
There was no answer. She just stood there watching him from a dark doorway.
"I'm sorry," he cried, "you don't deserve this."
She just stared back. He couldn't look at her, tears burned his eyes and he blinked them away.
"Of course I don't deserve this," Doc replied as he entered the room, "I should be in bed asleep, but that's life. And a bit better than what you have in store."
Luke frantically searched the room. Where had she gone.
"Luke...are you alright? You look like you saw a ghost," Doc asked, inspecting his friend's eyes.
Luke shook his head, "Sorry, must be the medicine."
"Yeah, well, bite down on this, you'll be glad that you're kind of out of it in a second here."
Doc helped Luke onto his stomach and started his work. Next to Luke's head sat a ceramic bowl and with each 'plink', he knew that Doc had pulled something new out of his back. First came the bullet, it had lodged in his scapula, next were rocks, pieces of wood, and glass. Then there was a slight pause. Luke looked over his shoulder to find Doc looking at the ground. He sat on his work stool, hands on his knees, softly crying.
"Doc, it's alright. What happened, happened. It's not pretty, it's just life."
Doc looked up, "but why did it have to happen? People have said things to Ross before and he just keeps being Ross. Pushes them, spits at 'em, maybe draws his gun to scare 'em. But never this. It makes you wonder if it's because you..."
"Just finish your work," Luke interrupted, "then I can go and ask him personally."
"What!?! Is that what you're planning on doing? Why the hell am I doing all this work just so you can get shot in your damn fool head?"
Doc exhaled loudly.
"Lie down. I'm going to do this and then you're going to get out of my house and never come back."
Luke looked at the other man. Anger and shame filled him, but he wouldn't be the first to look away. But Doc didn't care. He took a hand and pressed it into Luke's bleeding back. Luke laid down quickly, trying to get away from the painful pressure. He put the leather in his mouth and closed his eyes.
Sizzle.
The hiss of the iron on his back was mere background noise compared to the roaring pain. He wanted to squirm, he wanted to get away but he needed to have the wounds closed. Doc didn't stop once he had started, he kept moving the skillet around from spot to spot until the awful work was done. It only took a few minutes before Doc lifted the skillet back.
"Now get out!"
Luke didn't look back as he grabbed his guns and left.
Go the the Sheriff's front door, page 12.
Go to the back door, page 15.
Stand out front and yell, page 26.
MasterRabbi
Rookie
Back door, man. Page 15.
used44 said:
danielrbischoff
Rookie
Longo_2_guns said:
Bretimus_v2
So tired.
bretimus_v2 said:
Pretty sure, y'all sent him straight to hell.
