Blood Pooling In Arms Novels & Stories

They were worried about his health. Once they arrived, they found Jacob smoking a cigarette in the car park. His arm was in a sling. His fingers to his upper arm were swollen. Black blisters were forming on his lower arm abd the back of his hand. His arm was pulsing with pain. The skin was tight and looked like if you took a pin and poked it, it would pop like a balloon.

In the darkness, Callie examined the needle hole on her arm. In a desperate attempt, she squeezed her arm, allowing more blood to flow, staining her sleeve in the process. She continued squeezing and tried to rid as much of the substance from her body as possible. Minutes passed, then hours. Callie lay sprawled on the cot, her body wracked with pain. Hot and cold sensations alternated, and beads of cold sweat formed on her forehead. Gradually, she passed out.

“Yes, I’m sure of it. It’s not necessarily true that heavy bleeding connotes serious wounds. At worst, her fall might accidentally trigger an older leg injury, and since it’s connected to some of her leg ligaments, it elicited a sudden jolt of pain that could, understandably, cause her to faint in agony. Either way, when the IV drip finishes, she will be ready to go home. Right now, she’s already awake.” Mark nodded and walked inside the emergency room. Shelly was lying on the bed, her complexion ashen. The usual cherry tint in her lips was now pale and bloodless. Fluid from an IV bag hanging above her head dripped slowly through the line and into her body; chilled by the nipping, wintry air

My arms were weak, bloodied from the glass, and from the injuries I hadn’t even fully noticed until now. I dragged both of them a little farther from the car. I could barely breathe, the effort so great that each gasp for air felt like fire in my chest. My hands were slick with their blood, my fingers shaking as I let go of them. I staggered back a few steps, panting heavily. I tried to find their pulses, but when I touched their necks, there was nothing. No faint thrum of life. No warmth of a heartbeat. Both of them were dead.

She is on the floor. The sight lands wrong, like my mind refuses to line it up with reality at first. Her body is twisted at an angle that does not make sense, one arm bent under her, the other stretched out like she reached for something and missed. Her skin looks too pale under the low light. Blood is everywhere. In her hair, dark and sticky. Along her arms in smeared lines that tell a story I was not here to stop. Her chest moves, barely. Each breath looks like work.

Too low to allow the captive to stand upright. Can't stand. Can't sit. And he's taking his weight, if that's what it can be called, on one leg only. The other curves oddly. Bloodstains are still spreading from the knee of his left leg. His hands, even from where I'm standing, look... strange... His shirt sleeves too, once business-suit-white, are bloody, dripping at strange angles. Something hard protrudes under the fabric on one arm where there should be smooth muscle and flesh.

He turned on me, sinking in small vicious teeth. My arm instantly poured blood. Seeping down the edge. He clutched my arm desperately. Clinging to it so tightly, I doubted I’d be able to shake him off. The blood began withdrawing up my arm and soaking back into my forearm. I felt myself instantly weakening. I was trying to draw a long breath of air, but it felt like I was stranded in a bubble where air couldn’t reach. I realized that it was being stolen from me. Flooding through my body as it forced my energy out of me and into the child. My veins were now channels for air to push out my very being. I’d felt this before and knew what it meant.

‘The old man's temper is something else! "Damn it!" Dominic snorted, not knowing whether he had lost his temper with himself or Alexander. Following that, he raised his arms and put them by the side of the tub. Alexander could only stay rooted and watch him. He was shocked because he had never seen an arm like that before. The blue veins on Dominic's arms were prominent, just like how an arm of a skinny and malnourished person would look, but that was not it. Dominic's arms were not bony, but the veins and blood vessels remained prominent.

I don’t even know if I’m dreaming or what. Suddenly, I’m in Zane’s arms again. Then, I’m on a hospital bed with the bright white lights glaring over me. “What happened to her?” comes Zane’s echoey voice again. “Is she going to be alright?” “Yes, she will be alright,” a female voice answers. “She has extremely low blood pressure and a minor injury on her arm. We’re going to apply cold compress to her arm and keep an eye on her blood pressure levels.” “What’s causing her to have such low blood pressure?”

My hands were clenched in front of my body, trying to get up even though all my bones felt like they were crushed and no longer connected in place. My strength was drained quite a lot, and the cloth I used to bind my arms was not enough to stop the bleeding. More and more blood came out until my entire arm was soaked in thick, red liquid. My eyes were getting dim, and I couldn't see clearly. My breathing was ragged, and I could feel it turning colder and colder. My heart became so weak that I had trouble controlling myself. My body felt staggered, and my eyes saw a movement that wasn't very clear.