Blood Pooling In Fingers 소설 & 이야기

, I ask and he looks at me with tears in his eyes. “Come on. I’ll get a taxi for us”, I say calling the taxi company. I grab our coats and we walk out of the flat, once we reach outside the taxi is already waiting for us. We get in and we rush to hospital. Leo is going extremely pale and I am getting worried on the amount of blood he is losing. How is it possible for someone to bleed so much cutting their finger?

It might have been thirty minutes or an hour or maybe even more but when I came to my senses, I was tired and drained. So weak that I sank to the floor and rested my head on the brick wall. I placed my hands on the ground, trying to catch my breath wrinkling my brows in confusion as to why I was so out of breath, when I felt something warm and sticky under my fingers. Raising my tired hand to see what it is, my eyes widened in surprise when I saw the obvious, red sign of blood and I hastily looked down at my body to check if I was bleeding, but then I saw a wide pool of blood which was trickling my way and in that horrifyingly foreboding way where you know that whatever it was wasn't going t

I cried out; ‘Please! No! Stop!’. I begged, but he just ignored me, my cries and pleading only seemed to encourage him more. Against my better judgment, I looked down and was horrified by what I saw. No wonder what he was doing hurt so much, my arm was starting to turn purple and the pressure build-up was so intense, It felt like my fingers were going to explode! It continued until my whole arm, from fingertip to shoulder started to tingle with painful pins and needles.

I brought the blood to my nose and took one simple sniff, closing my eyes for better concentration. The normal smell of blood hit me first, but the smell was too heavy. Opened my eyes to inspect the blood, and noticed that while it appeared the normal colour, the little drop of blood had failed to coagulate in the time it had been exposed to air. Typical signs of Moonshade poisoning.

My right arm aches as though I’ve over-exerted it. Something warm drips from my fingers and when I look down I have to stifle a scream. It’s blood. What have I done? My breath catches in my throat and my heartbeat turns into a frantic staccato. I’m sure it’s not mine. I don’t seem to be injured, but it’s there, smeared across my hands, my nails caked with it. A broken gasp rips from my throat and I scramble backward, my pulse roaring in my ears as I look around frantically, trying to find whatever I killed.

My fingers instinctively come up to my upper lip, and when I pull them away, they’re red. Not just red. Coated. Blood. I shoot up in bed too fast and the world spins. I hold the sheet to my chest as another warm trickle runs down my nostril, sliding into the corner of my mouth. My stomach clenches. My heart bangs so loud in my ears I think I might pass out again. I press the back of my hand to my nose and crawl out of bed, half-stumbling across the room toward the bathroom. But it’s not just the blood. It’s what I see when I glance back at the bed.

And those crazy arms, at this moment, seemed to have been summoned, desperately entangled with the door frame and wrapped around it. As a result, a creepy scene appeared. The ridiculously long pale arms, like vines, were entangled tightly. Countless fingers were squeezing and moving wildly, making people take a look at them. The hair on their throats was about to vomit. These arms were squeezed hard, making creaking sounds like steel twisting. Large amounts of blood soon piled up under the skin of the arms. Blood dripped down, flowing faster and faster, gradually forming a blood curtain. It was just a bloody screen, but the sound of raging waves came from inside.

For each step she took, blood was needed. She brought her left middle finger to her teeth and bit hard on it, causing blood to flow out. She pointed her injured finger at the ground and then cautiously took a step forward as blood trickled down her finger. She felt that the pressure had greatly lessened. As more of her blood dropped to the ground, she got closer to the middle of this platform.

Too much blood. It’s no wonder I’m so out of it- my blood is pooling on the chair beneath me and hitting the floor in a steady drip. I sink my teeth into my lower lip and try to shift around on the chair to see if there’s any way I can wriggle free of my bonds, only to realize that even the slightest movement sends a spear of pain radiating from my belly. I shudder as it burns through me, a pained whine escaping my lips.

The eyes deep and excited in black dark circles, almost disappearing with the natural color of their irises. The skin devoid of its natural shine stretches over thin and pointed bones, similar to a dough too thin for a protruding filling. Connected to the devices near her bed, Penelope's right hand receives the small hose that takes the serum to her blood, while the left holds on her index finger the oximeter that gently whistles as she breathes.