Guess the emotion

Task for the June 15 meet was to write a piece that others had to guess the emotion of.
I chose to set a scene and write two different emotive responses to the scene.

Grarwk.
I spat out a mouth full of gritty pap and drew in a desperate breath. A stabbing pain stopped it at a gasp.
There is a bloody and shattered hand right in front of my eye, I can’t look away. The flesh is ripped from its stark white bone and the pulsing blood is forming a pool in the dirt. Searing pains arc my back and I feel like I'm twisting out of shape. I can’t seem to move but there are now other things I’m aware of, the hand is hurting.
Its my hand.
I can’t move it. I can’t stop looking at it, I can’t blink, my eye hurts to move and now everything is blurring with a red haze.
I move my head and an agony stabs white hot tendrils through my face. My other hand comes and smears dirt and blood across my skin. The flesh on my face is shredded, my left eyelid doesn’t close and my eye is stinging madly and now goes dark.. Something soft but incredibly heavy is pinning my legs together and I want to roll away from the torture. Muscles spasm and I am in a world of woe and trouble.
A thicker blanket of agony descends as my life fills with a sound of tearing metal and a huge mass slides upwards and away. My body is lifted momentarily then flopped agonizingly supine and I can now see from my other eye. A flaccid human form hangs grotesquely suspended from a torn metal opening above me. I make a guess it was that softened lump of flesh which had cusioned me from the crushing mass. The twisted heap creaks again and settles with a shudder from it's graunching slide. The hanging body sways, ruptures, slumps momentarily then drops down towards me. I try urgently to escape but a wall of pain blanks me into unconsciousness.  (so that's the scene, not the emotion)
(First Emotion , using that scene)

I am snapped back into my hellhole of agony. I am screaming and swearing . My body is getting tortuously moved. In a flash I am cognisant. I am freezing and wet but I recognise the strobe flashing of emergency lights. The air is rank with the smell of burning , I gag on the reek of charred flesh, flaming oil and smoldering plastic.
Now I am yelling again with the pain of being pulled at roughly and I cough up a putrid paste of bile and blood. I try to raise my hand but it's trapped and the effort drives a wave of indescribable agony forcing another inhuman scream from me..
An hoarse voice from somewhere near yells, “ Hold it! ... Morphine!, Vent kit!, Over Here!” and then closer and less urgent, another voice, firm, female ,
“Hi there, we need you to keep very still. You are badly hurt. We are giving you something for the pain. Please don’t try and move. Do you understand?” I can’t reply but I try to nod my head. It is trapped in a cage and I panic for a moment or two, then a sickly wave of euphoria sweeps over me. I give up all attempts to move, my body fails me and I lie, still, calmer.
Kind faces wearing hard hats are looking at me. A hand places something on my blank left eye and then other things are put on my face. The heads in hats move around as the scene moves and a voice says,
“Close your eye we are going to cover your face while we move you to safety”.
I am on a plank and I am floated to a brighter place which is quiet and smells clean.
A new voice keeps asking me to squeeze my hand if I can do things and it talks calmly to me and says many things. My plank jostles beneath me and I hear a muffled siren.

I am told it has been four weeks since the accident but my reflection in this mirror is still horrific to me. There is a slight familiarity as the swelling is going down but I still can’t recognise myself. Perhaps when the stitches come out and all the tubes are removed…..
I have had visits from the police, family, some mates have come. They all ask questions I can’t answer. Slowly, gradually, small fact at a time, I have been informed about that Friday night. I honestly still have no recollection of anything around it. I find the events as they are drip fed to me all but impossible to believe. As I look at the torn face in the mirror and I think of who he is, I can’t believe I am responsible. I wonder if there has been some mistake in the evidence, if a witness has got it wrong, if the blood tests got mixed in the lab. If half of it is true then the loss of a hand and an eye goes no way towards a just penalty for the devastation and destruction I caused to their families. 
(regret)

(Second emotion, using the first scene again)
Grarwk.
I spat out a mouth full of gritty pap and drew in a desperate breath. A stabbing pain stopped it at a gasp.
There is a bloody and shattered hand right in front of my eye, I can’t look away. The flesh is ripped from its stark white bone and the pulsing blood is forming a pool in the dirt. Searing pains arc my back and I feel like I'm twisting out of shape. I can’t seem to move but there are now other things I’m aware of, the hand is hurting.
Its my hand.
I can’t move it. I can’t stop looking at it, I can’t blink, my eye hurts to move and now everything is blurring with a red haze.
I move my head and an agony stabs white hot tendrils through my face. My other hand comes and smears dirt and blood across my skin. The flesh on my face is shredded, my left eyelid doesn’t close and my eye is stinging madly and now goes dark.. Something soft but incredibly heavy is pinning my legs together and I want to roll away from the torture. Muscles spasm and I am in a world of woe and trouble.
A thicker blanket of agony descends as my life fills with a sound of tearing metal and a huge mass slides upwards and away. My body is lifted momentarily then flopped agonizingly supine and I can now see from my other eye. A flaccid human form hangs grotesquely suspended from a torn metal opening above me. I make a guess it was that softened lump of flesh which had cusioned me from the crushing mass. The twisted heap creaks again and settles with a shudder from it's graunching slide. The hanging body sways, ruptures, slumps momentarily then drops down towards me. I try urgently to escape but a wall of pain blanks me into unconsciousness.
I am brought suddenly back into a world of dust by the call of “MAN DOWN! Man Down!” The call goes back down the line and I try to repeat it. I choke on a lump of phlegm but cough up thick blood. I realise I am the man down.
I look around to see if I am alone.
Grant is lying beside me, at least half of him is.
I hear the sound of small arms fire nearby and wince as Mike dive-slides in beside me.
“Stay still mate” he yells as he drags me clear from what is left of Grant and the APC*.
“The boys are providing cover.  Firing at fuckin' nothing they are.” 
Then, closer he says “You caught an IED** dead centre mate.
We’ll get you clear, no worries, but keep quiet and don’t move”.
I do as he says.
I know he is risking his life but I know I’d do the same.
I also know I never want to have to. 
(gratitude)

* (APC) Armoured Personnel Carrier
** (IED) Improvised Explosive Device