Nash
“Don’t be such a baby!” Daphne chided, “It’s just a little needle!”
I wiped the sweat off my upper lip as the nurse once again came at the crook of my elbow with a syringe. “If all you need is a little blood, why don’t I just slice my finger and be done with it?”
I was sitting in a little chair with a special arm rest in the laboratory department in Louis’s pack hospital.
I would rather face a live minefield, snipers, and ten enemies with hand granades and flame-throwers than be poked with a needle. It brought back memories, bad memories, of the days after I resurrected and went through test after test in a military hospital as they tried to figure out the what and the how of my living breathing corpse.
“Nash, look at me!” Daphne demanded. My eyes obeyed her, even though I fear
