It’s time for this week’s Song Title Challenge.
Write a short piece of fiction, around 300 words, using the song title as your story title but don’t listen to the song. You can pick your own genre or use the one suggested to me. Remember to link back to this post so I can find yours.
This week’s song is Ahhh!!! by Joachim Witt. Thanks to bumblepuppies for the suggestion. The genre is Historic Fiction.
(For the record, I believe the use of multiple exclamation marks are a sign on insanity. In fact, one Terry Pratchett character remarked that the amount of exclamations one uses is directly proportional to one’s level of insanity. But they’re part of the title.)
“Ahhh!!! Careful you idiots! Someone get this thing out of me!”
“We’ve sent for Tuck. He’ll be here now.”
“Where’s that bastard, Scarlet? If I get my hands on him…”
“Come off it, John. You shouldn’t have been behind the targets while we were shooting. I could have hit you as easy as Will had.”
John bit back his retort. Though he’d never concede it out loud, Robin had a point. It didn’t change the fact Will had better be a long way away by the time they got this arrow out of him. He watched silently as Robin cut away his tunic to expose his shoulder.
“I hear there’s been a bit of a mishap,” said a cheerful voice. John glared at the monk, but Tuck seemed unfazed as he examined his patient. “No need for the last rites yet, Brother John. It doesn’t seem to have pierced your lung. Only one way to get it out, I’m afraid. Hold him down.”
Strong hands pressed him down on the table and someone pushed a leather strap between his teeth. Tuck gripped the shaft and snapped off the tail. John screamed against the strap as the arrowhead shifted inside him. He barely had time to recover before Tuck forced the arrow down and out his back. It felt like it was a yard long as it moved through him.
The hands relaxed.
“Fuck, that hurt,” John gasped. “Now I need a drink.”
“We’re not done yet. I need to seal the wound, lest it becomes infected.”
John was pressed down again and could only look on as Tuck removed a poker from the fire, it’s tip glowing red. Pain like he had never known tore through him as the smell of burnt flesh filled his nostrils. He tasted blood and realised he must have bitten his tongue. Then, mercifully, everything went black.
Copyright © 2014 Herman Kok