Bleeding Blade Cut On Skin Novels & Stories

Her jagged nails cut my skin as I slipped to the side and past her attack, shoving the blade into her back. I had only a moment to yank it out as she fell forward, and the other two charged at me simultaneously. We fought for several minutes, them getting in the occasional punch while I used my knife to slice their skin open until they were coated in blood and lacerations. The thinnest of the bunch dropped to her knees as she grabbed the slice across her stomach, trying to hold her skin together long enough for the moss to cover the wound. But that wasn't going to happen on my watch.

Mom held the skin together and after one last look at her for support, I placed the tip of the knife on either side of the cut. The sizzle of his flesh burning filled the air. Burned flesh is something I will forever smell. Taking the blade off after a few seconds revealed a jagged closure. Again and again, I repeated it until the entire laceration was closed. He wasn’t bleeding, but he was still not out of the woods.

She kept searching, gingerly lest she cause an unwanted injury. There. She pulled out an extendable razor blade. Yanking her sleeve up, she made a tiny cut in the crook of her elbow, gasping at the sharp pain that skittered up her arm. She could still hear the sounds of the fighting, but her attention was held by the blood pooling in the joint of her arm.

Clang— The gleaming white blade clattered to the ground, accompanied by a splash of crimson. Leif’s hand, sliced open by the blade, was now fully exposed before Raina. The blade had been razor-sharp, and he had grabbed it barehanded. Keegan had struck with full force, showing no mercy. As a result, the gash across Leif’s palm was deep—flesh torn and bleeding profusely. Once the blade was removed, blood poured freely from the wound.

I waited until the footsteps faded away and then climbed off the bed, there had to be something in this room that would get rid of this blue mark. I searched everywhere, I tried scrubbing it, I chucked the bleach I found in the bathroom on it. Then I saw it his razor blade. Breaking the end off so I could just get to the blade, I sat on the side with my back to the large mirror. If I had to cut some of my flesh off, then I would, it wouldn’t be the first time I had lost a bit of flesh.

He would have nobody to blame for the consequences if he did. “I was just out for a run,” he said calmly. I chuckled darkly and motioned for Kade to come over to me. I had him hold Paul still while I considered where to cut. The flat side of the blade slid across his skin while I hummed in thought. “Already lying,” I tsked him. The sharp edge of the blade slowly sliced off a three-inch-long chunk of his upper arm. Paul growled loudly with the pain. I never had skin sliced off me, but it definitely hurt if his pained growl was any indication.

One thinly sliced cut, two thinly sliced cut, three. . OUCH!!! . I accidentally nicked my index finger, and to my dismay, it started bleeding quite a bit. Fortunately, the kitchen had some highly absorbent tissue paper within reach, which came to the rescue. That knife I was using was remarkably sharp; I can certainly vouch for its quality. No doubts. .

I uncover myself and throw my legs over the side of the bed. I stand up and walk over to where my blade sits. I roll my sweatpants up to where I can see my lower thigh. I press the cold metal against my warm skin. I remember a time when my skin was smooth. Now it is covered in cuts. I slide the blade against my skin like a knife going through butter. Blood gushes out of my thigh. I take a sharp inhale as I press it another time on my skin, slicing it. One for my dead mother.