28 Stab Wounds Novels & Stories

“I thought you didn’t want me to remove it.” “I didn’t want you to dislodge it and cause further injury. The tissue is open and sensitive. Once I remove and clean it, I’ll monitor your vitals while the hole closes. By evening, if your breathing remains steady, you’ll be almost as good as new. The stab wound will be tender for a few days and may bleed some, but considering the scars on your body, I bet you already know that.” He did. On the battlefield, he’d endured worse than knife wounds. He laid his head back into the downy pillow, staring up at the wooden timbers of the ceiling. “Go ahead then.”

“Can we see him?” Chris asked as Stella closed the door behind her. She had been busy for six hours. “I wouldn’t advise it, not yet,” she said. “How bad is it?” Rev asked her. “His arms and legs are broken, in total eight broken ribs, both of his shoulders were dislocated but I pushed them back, his back is ripped open almost everywhere and he has a multitude of stab wounds all over his body,” Stella said. “Holy fuck,” Preston whispered.

Just before the nurse could leave, Beth turned and asked, "What's the extent of the damage?" "He has two broken ribs, one fractured rib, thankfully none punctured a lung, a fractured ankle and mild bruising on his temple. The rest are just scrapes, cuts and light bruises, nothing to worry about." "And his heart?" "Has been stabilized and is responding well," the nurse answered with a nod. "How about the puncture in his side? What was it from? Do you know?" "A large glass shard had embedded itself in his side, missing any major organ by mere centimeters. Mr. Wade is a very lucky man."

“How is he?” The doctor sighed, his tone measured and professional. “He’s stable for now. The stab wound caused significant blood loss, and it came very close to a vital artery. But we were able to stop the bleeding and repair the damage. He’s not out of the woods yet, but his chances are good if there are no complications.” Freya exhaled shakily, her knees almost buckling as relief and worry collided within her. She felt Noah’s small hand clutching hers tightly. She squeezed his hand back, drawing strength from the simple connection.

The Abrams family lawyers were going to have their work cut out for them. I didn’t care if she was hurt. In fact, a very large, very dark part of me wished she were dead. My injuries, aside from the drug cocktail she’d given me, were mostly surface-level bruising. A spectacularly colourful and painful collection, but ultimately superficial. Lochlan, however, had been properly stabbed in the back. The knife had missed his internal organs, thank God, but it had sliced a nasty gash that required several stitches. He was bandaged up and sentenced to several days of quiet rest, with regular dressing changes.

She tells me with a smile on her face. “How's it looking?” Chef asks her. “They just arrived, two are critical and the doctor is handling them in the operating room, I think they were stabbed with silver, so he's trying to get it out. The rest and just stabs and some injuries that we can take care off. So just find a bed and fo from there but if you need any help just call me alright.” She tells us and Stephanie and I nod our heads and then she pushes open the double doors and we walk in.

Mira stitched his artery like it was nothing. Because she was good. One of the best. And she had to be. The doors to the trauma bay slammed open with a force that made every hair on her neck stand up. “Male patient! Multiple stab wounds! Found unconscious near the warehouses!” a nurse shouted, pushing through the swinging doors as the gurney rolled in. “Vitals?” Mira demanded, already moving into position. “BP 80 over 40 and dropping. Pulse thready. GCS three.” “Get me a unit of O-neg, start fluids wide open, and someone page the OR!”

I watched as Ashton shook his head and the doctor nodded. “You were in a coma for three weeks. You had suffered many injuries and lost a lot of blood due to the stab wound in your stomach,” the doctor paused and looked over to Ashton and sighed. He turned back to me and gave me a sad smile. “You have a broken arm, a broken leg, and a few broken ribs. One of the ribs punctured your lung, which is why it's difficult for you to breathe on your own. You also had bleeding on your brain from the abuse you had received.” Armando did a number on me. He was planning on killing me.

The remaining man tried to fight back but he too was outnumbered and soon fell victim to their blades. Fred tried his best to ward off the attackers with his dagger but eventually succumbed under their onslaught. He was stabbed multiple times in the chest and stomach, each thrust causing him immense pain as he cried out in agony. Blood began to pour from the wounds as he gasped for air, desperately trying to stay alive.

That was when she noticed the stab wounds to their little hearts and felt hers drop to her stomach. She tried to scream but nothing came out, not when she was looking at the most gruesome scene ever. Her entire body was dripping with sweat at this moment. It can’t be. A lady, a girl about the same age as her, laid on the floor, legs in opposite directions, arms above her head as if to reach for the two little children. She had multiple stab wounds of her own; in her chest, a long jagged one in her stomach, one in her neck, two in each thigh.