Blazing Stitches Novels & Stories

BLAZE* I was fine there, holding Lyra's hand and watching the nurses clean up our baby boy Christopher. Now I'm staring at the most gruesome thing I've ever seen. My God, how does that even happen? There's hair coming out of Lyra's passage and blood and liquids that don't belong in a body, or I don't think so anyway. 'Please, God, don't make me throw up,' I thought. "Rebecca, come take over for Blaze; he looks like he's about to pass out," Dr. Stevenson said. Rebecca took the sheet from me, and I sat next to Lyra on the bed and wiped her forehead with a damp cloth.

"Stitches?" Rolling my eyes, I answer. "Yes, five stitches to be precise. Are we done?" I try to pull away once more, this time too hard. Which only results in me banging my head against the window, causing the next shooting pain. Great, this is going to be an awfully long trip. Immediately, I palm my head slightly while trying not to touch the sensitive area.

“I HEARD THAT!” Caleb barked a startled laugh and instantly hissed in pain. “Ow—damn it.” I turned to him. “You okay?” “Just pride injuries,” he said lightly. “And maybe a cracked rib.” Blaze had a tear in his side and blood speckled his jaw. “You’re bleeding,” I told him. He shrugged. “It’s shallow.” Sheila stared at him and then burst into fresh tears. “My dress is ruined.” The desert wind finally blew.

Then when she combusted and gasped desperately for air, swallowing hard, she knew that she wanted more. So she pulled her short gown off and reached for his shirt, ripping off the buttons that wouldn't yield to the urgency of her fingers. When she got that out of the way, she reached for his trousers, but that was a bit of a trouble to get to, so he got that off himself. Alethia looked sharply into his eyes when she saw that he had a black brief on--what the hell did he wear that for?

The first stitch went in, my fingers already shaking from the silver, the stitches crooked. The second went wide and drove straight into my fingertip. Blood welled up, mixing with the scalded skin. “Oh dear.” Celina leaned in, not a trace of real concern in her eyes. “Do be careful.” I said nothing and kept going. Third stitch, fourth, each one biting deeper into the flesh. Caine stood a little way off, a glass in his hand, watching all of it. He said nothing. On the fifth stitch I finally lost it—a low grunt escaped me, and blood ran off my fingertip onto the pure white fabric, blooming into one small, glaring red flower.

Furthermore, Wilbur would be showing up for routine inspections every other day. On the day that the stitches were set to be removed, Mable sat next to Blair and watched. She felt the urge to cry when she saw the wounds riddled across Blair’s body. More than a couple of wounds on his body required heavy stitches, with the most significant one of them being the gunshot wound he sustained to the left chest. As the doctor skillfully attended to Blair, Mable’s eyes started to fray with red. Then, she felt someone holding her hand. It was Blair, who was looking at her with a gentle glow in his eyes. “Don't worry. It just looks gruesome, is all. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Rose asked, one of her hands moving to find Sebestian', holding onto two of her fingers. Fred let out a sigh and looked up through his lashes at Allen who was standing over him. "If the scent is weak, the stitches will give in when put under pressure" Fred said, reaching up and scratching his fingers against his bearded jawline. "If the stitches are strong and don't give in, whatever is under it will be ripped apart".

It hurt the most. It wasn't too bad. I could have been a pincushion, but thankfully phasers were notoriously terrible to aim. I sandwiched the smoking paper between my lips, inhaling the numbing herb inside as I disinfected the raw, angry skin. It wasn't bleeding as bad as the ones on my arms, but it still hurt like a bitch. I used the sterile, self-healing thread to stitch the gash closed. It wasn't as effective as the sealant, but it was a better option when the skin wasn't completely scorched like it was last time. Then I slapped a bandage on it and called it a night.

The weight of the statement was enough to send their hearts plummeting. Choking up as he spoke, Sebastian continued, "The most life-threatening injury is internal organ damage and bleeding. The Orchidstrike Needle Art technique is only slowing the bleeding, but his injuries are too severe. Even if he makes it through the night, he may not survive the next three days.

Like a needle bursting a balloon, Blaze’s fireball was extinguished in an instant as her spear went through it. For the other two, she did the same as well. When it was Blaze’s turn, Blaze skilfully dodged Kuroyuki’s spear by spiralling downwards around it without making any gurgling sounds nor moans. I thought so. Blaze did dodge the large spear with nearly the same speed. So such a small one wouldn’t have mattered. “BURN!” Blaze yelled. The fire on Blaze’s body was then compressed and shifted to his right fist. With that speed and compressed flames, perhaps that punch Blaze was about to throw out would cause an explosion powerful enough to blow even us to bits.