Blazing Stitches Novels & Stories

My questions sets him back and he drops his head against the wall, lips parted and I stare at him with thin pressed lips. I get off the floor, striding back through my room into the bathroom. I stand in front of the mirror, reaching forward and I pull my hair up into a bun, my eyes never leaving the mark on my neck and I let out a shuddered breath, and I start digging my nails into the mark. I will heal if I can just claw it off right? Then it would only make a hole and not a mark? A scream escapes me as I dig my fingers into the fresh wound, and Blaze's heavy footsteps come closer until he stops in the door, his eyes wide as he stares at me agape.

"A standard stitch will tear under pressure. We need a reinforced double-layer patch." "Understood, Chief," Sarah replied, her hands steady as she handed over the specialized synthetic patch. The minutes ticked by in complete focus. Outside, the morning sun rose higher, casting bright light through the high frosted windows of the surgical wing. Every stitch Vivian placed was a testament to decades of rigorous training, her father's brilliant teachings, and her own unyielding commitment to saving lives. At nine-forty-five AM, Vivian placed the final delicate suture.

His face was straight and expressionless but his hat was still covering his eyes making only his nose and lips visible on his features. Blaze came out too and followed as he held his arm tightly, it hurting like hell but he kept his composture. Just then, a lady rushed to blaze taking his wounded arm. "Blaze, you're hurt!" She muttered worriedly. "Leave Lilith!" He warned but she didn't heed. "You're not okay Blake, let me help you with it!" She offered touching the wound. "I said Leave, don't you get it!" He snapped and she withdrew her hands slowly clamping her lips together.

Everyone said my wife, Zoey Harper, was an amazing wife and mom who'd do anything for me and our son, Leo. Leo's doctor warned us three times that he might not make it. Then he died. Zoey claimed she was overseas for work. She wasn't. She'd invited Peter Cole—the first love she'd never gotten over—and his family to our apartment for dinner. I came home carrying Leo's urn, ready to confront her. Instead, she tossed my luggage into the hall. "We have guests, and we're out of rooms. Go stay somewhere else for a few days."

I used the small blade to remove the amateur stitches he made before coming back to clean the remnant of the wound. Unlike before, the silence now was tense and charged. As I cleaned his wounds this time I tried my best not to look at him. The minutes felt like hours as I clean the wound. Once I was done, I set aside the tray full of bloody gauze. I took out the surgical needle and thread, ready to stitch the wound.

I giggled. "No that's no- fuck it just do it after." She said and cut off the link. Damn, she must be really furious. "This is going to be fucking interesting." Noah said as he leaned on the wall behind us. "Yeah..." —————————————————— "And this how the system immune is created, any question?" Blaze asked as the girls who he designated to be his assistant, stayed too close to him much to my displeasure. She was touching him, his strong arms. She can't fucking do that!

Nothing that a few stitches wouldn’t fix, I told myself, desperately clinging to that thought. With determination coursing through my veins, I held my breath and set to work, tying and stitching his skin back together with shaky but resolute hands. Each pull of the thread felt like an act of defiance against fate, a testament to my refusal to let him slip away. I wrapped the gauze tightly around his abdomen, each layer binding us closer together in this fight for survival. I would not let fear claim him. I would not let him go without a battle.

I spark my lighter, burning the tip of the curve blade as I lift my gaze up to meet with Lucas. “Mmmhhhh,” He was screaming words through his gagged mouth but it was coming out muffled, like a distorted hum. He thrashed on his chair desperately, trying to break free, his eyes pleading. “Don’t look at me like that,” I press the tip of the blade carefully against the first stitch, since the thread is two layers, I apply more effort to cut down to the ninth stitch. Lucas wouldn’t stop his restless movement, he shifted his weight violently on the chair, causing it to scrape loudly and annoyingly against the floor.

Niko There is no painkiller available, so I brace myself as Sven takes on the critical task of patching up the jagged hole left by the bullet. With a steady hand and an unwavering focus, he threads a needle, meticulously preparing to stitch the two sides of skin that have been forcibly separated. Every prick of the needle feels like a sharp jolt, each tug a reminder of the shot endured. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to maintain composure as I watch the world around me blurring in and out of focus through bleary eyes. Bianca's earlier theft of the medical gear now weighs heavily on my mind, amplifying my discomfort as Sven deftly works, weaving the sutures with expertise honed through exper

Blaze kept struggling to remove the ropes but as she tried she bruised herself causing blood to trail from her wrists to the cold floor. "Stop! Stop it, Blaze!" Stacy cried out, seeing how much she had hurt herself in the little time passed. Blaze looked at her with a smile. "What's the point? I'm still going to die anyways but before that, let's get out of here." She winked and kept pushing the ropes. ****************