Blood Pooling In Fingers Novels & Stories

Her pale finger instantly turned purple, and blood oozed out of her nail folds. Charmine furrowed her brows in pain as she felt that sharp, stinging pain coming from the tip of her finger. The pain stretched out to her heart, so much so that even her heart was in agony.

I shook her gently at first, then harder when she didn’t respond. “Wake up,” I said, my tone sharpening with panic. “This isn’t funny. Get up.” Her head lolled to the side. The sound of it, echoed louder than it should have in the silence of my office. Blood had already begun to pool beneath her, seeping across the polished floor in slow, creeping lines that made my stomach churn. It was everywhere. On her hair. On the edge of my desk. On my hands. My hands. I stared at them, chest heaving, my breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.

The beautiful bouquet decorated with my eyeballs was delivered to my mom, Eleanor Heinrich. My ten slender fingers had been forcibly broken to adorn the area around the eyeballs. Fresh blood was smeared all around, still dripping, staining the pupils a deep red. The dilated pupils reflected the terror their owner felt before death. The fingers were a mix of bruised blue and purple, with nails flipped backward and stained with blood. The shade of red on them was even more bright and vivid than the roses at the side.

That should do. I honestly miss the old Derrick. I lay on my bed crying myself to sleep as I hold the cold bottle against my heavy cheek. Derrick's POV; I adjust myself in my bed to a more comfortable position pulling my blanket over my body. I move my hands under my head and a foreign feeling engulfs my fingers. I lazily pull my eye lids apart to view the warm substance on my fingers. Just then do I see what has smeered my fair fingers. Blood! I raise my fingers up to my head and I feel a stinging sensation. Like the one you get when sweat slides into a wound.

Unable to resist his emotions any longer, he raised his hand and punched the flowerbed. Blood oozed from his hand, streaming down between his fingers. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Lately, I've always had trouble sleeping and am constantly restless. I suddenly felt my eyes blur momentarily in the middle of the journey. I stopped for a moment and held on to one of the walls in the hallway. My head is dizzy, and I feel strange. When I lifted my palms to look at it, I was truly shocked. "Aahhh!" My reflex screamed when I saw that my hands were covered in fresh blood. Desperately, I wiped the blood on my palms onto my clothes. But the blood didn't disappear and instead became more abundant.

Clement backed away, his hands shaking as he wiped her blood onto his trousers. I lowered her onto the linen, keeping my hands on her wrists until her breathing slowed. Then I stood entirely still. I looked down at my hands. Dark blood from the corridor wall was still leaking across my split knuckles, mixing with the bright, wet smears of Clara’s blood on my palms. I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, searching for the biting northern chill that had actually broken the fever, but my palms were warm, slick, and heavy with the scent of this room.

Bertha's eyebrows furrowed tightly because she always smelled a strange smell in the air. There seemed to be a very strange scent of men's perfume, mixed with a very strong fishy smell. "This place has been abandoned for so long, why does it smell like fresh blood?" She walked around Derek, looking around the room. Finally, she found a palm-sized pool of crimson blood on the ground, like fresh blood that had not yet dried. She slowly squatted down, reaching out to touch the pool of blood, but her wrist was suddenly held tightly by Derek. "Don't touch it, dirty."

I look down, my eyes widening when I see streaks of red liquid all over the sink. I look back and sure enough, there are drops of blood all over the floor as well. My gaze snaps to my fingers and I discover the source of the blood – a very deep, ugly looking cut on my index finger. Blood continues to flow out of it. I switch on the tap to wash the remaining blood away when I hear traces of raised voices from main store. I frown at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. What the hell is that? I rinse off quickly and hurry towards the store. I will care for the wound properly later.

He moved the edge over her neck painfully slow before pressing it to her throat promisingly. "Do you know the most fragile vein is located around here? It's directly connected to the artery in charge of pumping most of the blood that's being circulated through out the body. One puncture and you will bleed to death" He told her teasingly as he continued to work the knife further before moving it away to stare back at her reaction and it was overly satisfying as the corner of his lip pulled up in a little smile before his expression turned dark yet again.