Blood Pooling In Fingers Novels & Stories

A sudden burst of intense heat spread rapidly through my fingertips, and the skin on my palm started to tingle uncontrollably. Pulling my hands away from my head, I held my right palm flat in front of my face and stared at my fingers in complete confusion. When the heavy stream of shower water fell downward toward my outstretched hand, the clear liquid did not hit my skin normally. Instead, the running water actually curved sharply in the air, bending completely around my fingers to avoid touching my hand entirely. The water flowed in a perfect circle around my palm, defying basic gravity for several long seconds.

My eyes darted to him, heart hammering against my ribs. His hand was still outstretched from the throw, fingers flexing slightly as if he were testing their range of motion, and that's when I saw it—thin, dark lines running down the side of his palm where he'd gripped the glass too tightly before hurling it. Blood. Fresh and crimson, welling up from what looked like multiple small cuts where the crystal had bit into his skin. It dripped in uneven trails, following the natural creases of his palm, pooling briefly at the curve of his wrist before slipping free and falling to the floor in perfect, round droplets that looked almost black in the lamplight.

Long sharp claws slide out of my skin, covered in blood. What the f- I flex my fingers again, staring at bloody claws one moment, my slim, neatly cut fingers the next. My mangled arm is completely fine, not a trace of injury or blood anywhere. Was I seeing things just now? I flex my fingers once more but nothing happens, looking over my arm I don’t see any trace of a cut or anything. I must be so tired and emotionally exhausted that I’m seeing things. Sure that's the reason, I crawl into bed, sinking into the cool comfort of my comforter.

“Eli, don’t–” Before the warning can even leave my lips, he grips the clear plastic tubing with his fingers and yanks it violently out of the back of his hand. I gasp, my eyes going wide as I watch the needle slip free, a small, steady bead of crimson blood immediately welling up on his skin and trailing down the back of his hand onto the white bedsheets. The reckless, completely unhinged danger of it sends a sharp, throbbing ache straight to the center of my core.

It pierced my forefinger, causing blood to start flowing down the finger, tracing a path down my palm. Clenching it between my palm, I raised my left arm and placed the sharp end on the sensitive skin of my wrist. My eyes watched as the glass drew a line down the whole length of my arm. Blood peeked out of the line at first, but then, it started to pour out—hot, fresh, and dark red. I dropped to my knees, and shards pierced my skin. I didn’t care. I moved back on the floor until my back hit the wall, and then…I just rested.

That light was too pure and bright, revealing me for who I was. The filth churning inside me was something detestable and loathsome. It was so overwhelming that I did not dare to touch it. After it happened a few times, Ethan developed stomach problems. When I was not paying attention, he would endure the pain silently with his brows tightly furrowed. He was too afraid to let me find out and never told me. It was not until one morning, after staying up all night to care for me, that he fainted from the pain at his office. That was when I realized just how severe his condition had become.

I stared at her palm noticing it was really reddish,I gently held her other palm,realizing it was the same. And then I noticed a small bruise on her finger. I quickly sent for the doctor. "Shouldn't this be bandaged?"I asked as soon as he walked in. "It's very small…" "It could get infected."I pointed out."And why are her palms so reddish?" "She might have fallen on them when she dodged the car,Mr Lewis."He replied."I'll get an ointment for that." I nodded. He placed a small plaster on her finger and then went off to get the ointment.

I commanded. Instead of dripping onto the floor, the blood that pooled in my palm began to glow with a soft, ethereal light. It didn't drop; it hovered, reacting to the moonlight streaming through the shattered window. The branches outside groaned, leaning closer to the glass as if drawn to the scent.

Then it pulsed. Thin lines branching outward from a central point beneath her flesh. Veins of shadow spreads slowly, faintly glowing red beneath her skin. That had not been there before. I stepped closer. “What is that?” I demanded. The doctor barely glanced at it. “Subdermal hemorrhaging. Possibly a vascular reaction to trauma.” “It was not there,” I said sharply. He leaned closer this time, frowning. One of the nurses angled a brighter light toward her arm. The dark marking reacted, It shifted. Spreading slightly higher.

” I swing the door open. Looking down, a thin trail of blood is by my feet. My eyes follow the trails drop by drop. The blood's not dark, so it hadn't been there for long…someone might be hurt. I walk into the room, my eyes still steadily follows the trails until I trace it to… A bloody pale hand hangs from the black couch. The fingers edges are black and the hands cold. My eyes come up until I find a wrinkled pair of brown eyes staring at me. They are bloody with a stiff, dead stare.