Bleach On A Bee Sting の小説・ストーリー

I can hear their screams and shouts of both agony and rage making me smile in satisfaction. I'm just glad the whole shop was soundproof. “These would be a good addition to my collection,” I informed him absentmindedly while reaching for the bleach on the cabinet below the table. “This would hurt but you'll live,” I mumble as I washed his wounds with bleach. Scream after scream erupted from his mouth while his body convulsed uncontrollably as the pain intensified. “Pl-please ju-just ki…kil…kill me.” He croaked out in a barely audible voice before passing out.

The bees panic while I screw on the lid, and my nose wrinkles at the chemical stink. I hate murdering bees. Not because I’m fond of them or anything. They sting, and even when they’re relatively calm, they buzz around you, skulking at the verge of your peripheral vision, and honestly, I don’t know which is worse—a sting hurts, but it feels better once you slap some mud on it. The skulking gives me headaches and drives my wolf nuts.

}} Skaii grabs it and races back over to me. He took a tweezer and began picking out the tiny teeth then threw the Hydrogen Peroxide into the wound followed by an antibiotic liquid that smells awful by the way and covered it with dressing mesh and plaster {{ just be a good girl and let it sit until you've healed okay? }} (( yes doctor )) {{ good girl }}

"Whew! Whew! Whew! "Aaaargh" Ben cried out. The whip had landed on his nipples that were still clamped up. The skin broke and blood came out. Ben started crying. Rolph went to the first aid drawer and brought out some cottonwood and a disinfectant. He applied the disinfectant to the cotton wool and cleaned up the wound. Next he applied a soothing ointment to the redden area. All this without removing the clamps. Ben had never felt so much pain before.

“We have a treatment—neem oil and a little soap. It won’t hurt the fruit, but we have to catch it early.” “Can I help?” She handed him the bottle. “Spray the leaves, both sides. Not too much—just a mist. And try not to get it on the flowers, or the bees won’t come.” He worked beside her in comfortable silence, moving from tree to tree, the morning sun warming their backs. Every few minutes, one of them would point out a new spot, or a branch that needed trimming, or a bird’s nest tucked into the higher branches. It was the most ordinary thing in the world, and Kyle found himself wishing it could last forever.

Bryan got to the dining room and placed the first aid kit on the table. Blakeley let go of the wound and took off her jacket, she breathed heavily as she stared at the wound, her kids watched their mother in horror as she was in pain. Blakeley stared at her arms and was a little relieved the bullet wasn't so deep. Tears kept streaming down Bryar’s eyes while Bryan watched worriedly. Blakeley opened the first aid box and Bryan was surprised to see it contained more than what was expected in a first aid box. Blakeley brought out the disinfectant and poured it on the wound, she hissed loudly in pain and shut her eyes.

My eyes widened as I saw Achilles, lying on the floor looking in extreme pain, his hand on his chest and coughing aggressively. I ran over to him immediately. My breath quickened. “God–Achilles, what—what…” I looked at a bottle of bleach kept beside him. Gasping, I stood up and ran around to find water. Picking up a one-litre bottle, I rushed back and forcefully put the bottle in his mouth. He opened his mouth and started drinking it. “Oh god, Y-You’re gonna be fine,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say before getting up and calling 911 immediately.

"I’ll make sure you never forget." I grabbed the kitchen shears I’d swiped from the drawer. I hacked at the dark hair, watching the long, silky strands fall into the sink like dead things. Then, I grabbed the box of "Golden Honey" bleach I’d seen hidden in the back of the linen closet—the stuff Mom said we were too young for. I didn't care about being young. I didn't care about being pretty. I mixed the chemicals, the smell burning the back of my throat. I slathered it onto my head, my hands shaking with a fury that felt like fire.

I let out a sharp breath and pushed the bedsheet away. “I really thought it was dye, I promise.” I defended myself, though not with much confidence, feeling quite confused. I truly believe that was bleach. I believed it was simply the natural shade of blue that would make it appear whiter. “Take a look,” she said, pulling out the bleach she had brought and opening it for me to see. It is nearly colorless, much like water. I trembled in disbelief; this was worse than anything I had ever experienced.

So, progress. I moved slowly to the nightstand by the bed and pulled open a drawer, taking out a small container. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I unscrewed the lid and held it out to her. She peered at the thick crème inside curiously. Her little nose twitched, tasting the scent of the balm from the air. "What's in it?" "It's a combination of plant extracts. It will cool the sting and feel good to your skin."