Blood Pooling In Fingers Novels & Stories

A pool of her own blood spreading out beneath her. Alto standing over her, hands soaked red He'd beaten me to it.

Harry: very well ;) Harry: now just one finger I drink hard at his request. I'm so nervous, I'm starting to sweat. I do what he tells me and bring my heart finger to the center. It feels strange my finger in there, it's like I'm. . . Oh, is that it? Is that what you mean? Harry: Now take your finger out and tell me if there's any liquid coming out. I do it and I get my hand out of that place. I look at my finger and yes, there's some kind of fluid surrounding my finger. It's. . . strange.

Andy slowly opens his, immediately aware of the throbbing pain in his head. Lifting a hand to the area that is the most painful, he feels dried blood around a small gash. When he looks at his fingers, there is a bit of fresh blood, as well. He will probably need a stitch or two to cloe the wound. But that is the very least of his worries.

It feels like liquid fire expanding in my lungs, a sharp, tearing pressure that cuts off my airway entirely. A harsh, hacking cough rips violently through my throat. I jerk backward, breaking his grip as I instinctively bring my right hand up to cover my mouth, my body trembling from the sudden, agonizing spasm. The taste of heavy iron and copper instantly coats my tongue, warm and thick. I pull my hand away from my lips, my chest heaving as I look down into my palm in the dim twilight of the hallway. Blood. Thick, dark, metallic-smelling blood is dripping from my fingers, pooling in the creases of my skin and smearing across my palm.

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.

Whenever I touched him, I burned my hands, and my fingers were so cold that each of my touches hurt him. Blood kept oozing from his open lip. Thick, fresh blood: it looked dark. I still remember what it looked like when it changed its color on my shivering hands. It was no longer red at all. but nearly black, and could have been mistaken for ink as it ran over my fingers.

Finished. His palm was pressed to the door seam. The silver-white light leaked between his fingers, shining onto the back of his hand. The skin on the back of his hand was thin as paper. The blue veins beneath were visible. There was hardly any blood left flowing in them. He waited for a moment.

The decision settled in my chest like a stone heavy but certain. A deep breath filled my lungs as I readied myself to exit the shower. During my movement my fingers unexpectedly made contact with the area between my legs— I found myself suddenly immobilized without warning. An entity of thermal comfort. My pulse spiked. My stomach twisted violently as I pulled my hand back staring down at my fingers. Blood. My fingertips displayed a thin red streak that stood out dramatically against my pale skin. My gaze remained fixed while my cognitive functions failed to interpret the visual input before me. The substance before him appeared minimal yet it unmistakably constituted blood.

Pouring some water in the sink I start washing the first cup when I begin to feel funny, something is going on in my body and I have to hold on to the sink with one hand. My fingers start to hurt really bad and the cup I was holding in my hand gets crushed in my palm, seeing the water get coated red when suddenly long, sharp claws slip out from my fingers and everything around me is coated in a golden color. It's painful and I can't hold on to the sink any longer when I fall back to the ground with a thud. Hearing heavy footsteps rushing over to where I'm laying in pain on the floor and trying to get some air down my lungs. Holding my jaw shut tight to prevent myself from screaming out the p

He explained to me while still holding my one hand. I continued to stare at my reflection for another long minute. The veins under my eyes throbbed and I could see them pulsating with every second passing by. When I lowered my glance at my nose, blood seeped out and covered the sink that I stood nearby. I placed my hand over my nose, stopping the blood from spreading but it didn't stop. It dripped down my fingers and left a trail over my arms. Though, I didn't feel any pain.