Accidentally Touched Dried Blood Novels & Stories

Just as I guessed, the door is unlocked, like he is daring me to try and leave. There is something on the floor. Dark. Irregular. I look at it without fully processing it at first, then my brain catches up, and I suddenly realize the red splatter I am staring at. Blood. I look down at myself, touching and examining. My hand comes away damp at the back of my trousers. I twist to look behind me. It's right there, dark red spreading against the white fabric, unmistakable. My hand goes to it. Comes away wet. How did I not notice this?

I took a sip in a hurry, coughing profusely afterward. "Relax." She said, patting my back. I nodded, covering my mouth while still coughing. "Yo! Don't cough out your lungs." She whispered. I couldn't hold it. Something was wrong and I had no idea what. I opened my palm to see a stain of blood. This has never happened before. What went wrong? "Is that blood?" Daven asked, grabbing my palm. I nodded, wiping it off. "Has that happened before?" She asked again, clearly worried and shocked.

When I see his eyes open I take a breath of relief and I rub my fingers through his hair. "Draco, I'm so sorry. My foot caught on your robe, and I didn't mean to......" I begin. My fingers on his hair have touched something wet. When I bring them closer to my face to look I see that they are crimson. When I gently rub my fingers together in the liquid I realize that this is blood. I look into his eyes and see that they are still unmoving.

I'm sure we can- The sound of something crushing distracted me, suddenly my hands felt wet, I lowered my head looking at the cup I was holding, or the one I had previously held. My hands were covered in a dark brown and red liquid, several pieces of porcelain stuck in my palms. I stared at my hands in horror, I didn't even feel the pain. I carefully picked up every bit that stuck in my palm and threw it in the trash. I wash my hands until they are clean again then dry them with a soft towel. Blood was still flowing slightly from his open wound, now sticking to the towel.

She touched her upper lip and her fingers came away red. Blood. She stumbled to the bathroom, gripping the sink. Blood dripped steadily from her nose, splashing into the white porcelain. She grabbed tissues, pressing them to her face, but it kept coming.

Am I? She adjusts back, raising her upper body to stare at me. I trace her gaze to my body. . . I don’t see anything. Hazel runs her fingers down my neck. No wonder I couldn’t see what she was looking at! “It’s dried blood. Give me a second, let my get a first aid.”

Maia’s finger froze when she saw the drop of blood on the tablet screen. Raising her hands to touch her nose, she found blood dripping out of it. She was startled. This was not a normal occurrence for her. Was something wrong? Was it because the air was dry due to the cold weather? She took a few pieces of tissue paper and wiped her nose clean. Then, she took another piece to wipe the blood off the tablet screen. However, the blood from her nose kept flowing…

I placed the jacket on the ground where the golden rays of sunlight touched the floor boards and I saw the dried blood start to liquefy before it evaporated into thin air. I adjusted the jacket in the sunlight, careful not to get my skin under it wincing on accidental sun burns which was happening very often because of my haste. Once I had disintegrated all the blood off my jacket, I took of the black jeans I wore and did the same. Most of the blood on the jeans was on the back of it so that was the parts I concentrated on.

Cold thick liquid splattered across my skin. I gasped, my breath hitching as his weight sagged against me. He was still for a second, his grip loosening, and then he collapsed to the floor beside me. My chest heaved as my head swam with dizziness, but I forced my eyes open, forced myself to look. My hand was sticky wet. A deep red stained my fingertips, smeared across my skin. Blood. My stepbrother’s blood.

After a moment, the man gestured that I remove my finger. I pulled my finger back to see that a fine thumbprint in blood had formed on the area where I kept my hand. The man took a step to the side and Davina repeated the same process. The blood on my finger gave me the creeps. I wanted to wipe it off on something immediately. Then I rubbed my finger against the cloak and snuck a peek at it. It was not completely off, as some stuck in between my fingers. I encouraged myself with the thought that I’d thoroughly wash my hands once I got home.