Novel & Cerita Bloody Finger Story

He opened the box and said to Gilbert, "Uncle Gilbert, why don't I put some medication on it and bandage it up? Gilbert sat on the couch, elbow resting on his knees, letting his injured hand hang in mid-air while placing a garbage can on the floor. The blood was all dripping into the trash can. He gritted his teeth, stared at his injured finger, and thought to himself, 'How come I didn't cut off a whole finger? Would she have felt sorry for me if I had cut off a whole finger? No, she wouldn't. That woman is more cold-blooded than anyone else. I'm afraid she wouldn't even bat an eyelid if I chopped off my entire hand.'

Blood spilled from his split lips and from everywhere my blade touched. “Well, in that case, I’ll continue by cutting off your fingers one after the other till you tell me what I want to hear.” “Fuck you, I already did.” “Ain’t you a feisty one? No wonder you’re Benny’s favourite.” I picked up the secateurs from my set of tools and, without thinking twice, cut off his little finger. His scream echoed off the walls. “That is just the beginning,” I stated plainly. “There is more where that came from.” I pointed to the finger on the floor.

Bone cracked clean. He howled. Middle finger. Snap. Ring finger. Snap. Pinky. Snap. Thumb—slow twist until the joint popped out of socket. He was sobbing now, body shaking, piss soaking his pants. I moved to the left hand. Same treatment. By the time I finished, both hands were mangled—fingers bent at wrong angles, swollen and purple. He babbled—pleas, promises, names of contacts—anything to make it stop. I didn’t care.

But the sick pedophile still gave her a defiant smile. He had also lost another finger and three of his toes. All of them now burned stumps, a crude attempt to keep him from bleeding to death too quickly. But what used to be his kneecaps was now skin graded down to nothing but bone. Amber looked away quickly as her stomach started to churn. The smell of both dried and fresh blood in the air also wasn’t helping any. “So nice of you to join us Giovanna,” said the Hatter, “and just in time to uphold your end of the bargain. Cut off his head? Eye for an eye.”

“I guess we are going to have to do this the hard way.” I took one of his fingers and placed it between the pliers’ teeth. I paused for effect, but the wolf only glared at me. “Suite yourself.” I clamped down on his finger, and his finger gave a pleasant crunching sound. He screamed. I released his finger and looked down at it. His finger was already turning a purple-reddish color. In about two minutes, the finger would be as good as new, then I could continue.

I extended my claws, reaching up then slowly pressing my claw into his chest, just under his collarbone on his right side. He hissed then grunted as I slowly drag my fingernail down and across his chest, all the way to his stomach. I watch the blood begin to flow as it ran down his body. I reached down then pressed my finger into the cut right where I ended at his stomach. He cried out, his body shaking as he tried to get me to stop. I kept pushing my finger in deeper and deeper. Extending my nail to allow my finger to penetrate deeper. His cries got louder the deeper my finger went until I couldn't push my finger in any further. My knuckles touching his body. I begin pulling my finger forwa

She pulled it out of the scabbard slowly, revealing its shiny holden blade, which was way too captivating to take eyes off of it. The gold shone too bright even in the dim light of the day, it was pretty sharp to be tried upon anything, Murphy put her finger on it slowly, assessing the blade. Suddenly she got her finger slipped upon the sharp side of the blade, and in no time it cut sharply upon her hand, she pulled her away instantly and watched her finger bleed madly, "Oh, No! What have I done?". She felt dizzy at the sight of the blood oozing from her finger, she could feel the surrounding swarming before her eyes, dimming the visions, she fell on the floor of her room.

Grabbing his right index finger, my face twists with disgust as his sweaty skin moisten my fingers. With a grunt, I pull his finger into the cutter, clamping hard on it. His screams tear through the room, but I don't stop until I hear his bone crack, and the finger drops to the floor. Blood sputters all over the place, staining my black shirt as he shakes the finger vigorously. “Wanna play again?” I smirk, my eyes darting towards his left hand. “Fuck you! Argh!” He curses, groaning as his blood drips to the floor.

he shrieked suddenly making her jump at her place. "I won't! I won't! Don't cut m...my fi-fin-finger!" she cried out, sobbing as her face began to turn red. The sight of blood never settled well with her and this time around, it was her own blood releasing out her finger and drenching her hand in her own blood. "You won't?" he rose his brow at her. "Leave my hand! My finger, you are cu-cu-cutting my finger," The sentence sounded too odd to her ears.

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.