Blown Vein Hand Novels & Stories

However, as Chad relaxed, his skin began to crack, and his veins swelled with excess blood. The veins bulged like worms, and Chad endured the excruciating pain brought by that condition! The Mountain Fists that Chad had just used surpassed his physical body's limits. His heart pounded wildly, and blood rushed to his limbs, causing his vision to darken intermittently. Luckily, the effect of the rebirth elixir Jasmine had given him earlier prevented his veins from bursting. Clap! Clap! Someone was clapping, the sound oddly abrupt in the silence of Temple Road.

"Everything is gonna be alright. I'll help you get through this every step of the-" As she reached out toward the leaves of the patch, she let out a scream as something sharp dug into the back of her hand. Iris stumbled onto her back, clutching her hand and hissing in pain. She looked at the back of her hand to find two tiny holes in her skin, one of which was leaking blood as the vein was punctured.

I ordered, as my gaze moved between the stats and the bleeding. Slowly his stats started to improve and there wasn’t nearly as much blood as there had been. Releasing the air, I had been holding, I held out my other hand and asked for the clamps. With the bleeding now under control, I was able to see that it had been a blown blood vessel, nothing that I couldn’t easily repair.

"Help...ahem, ahem... help..." The doctors and nurses rushed in the ward in time, followed by Nick. Callan became more agitated when he saw so many people. It seemed that he didn't know anyone. When he saw them, he wanted to hit them. While he was struggling, the needle got out of his hand, and his blood spilled out. "Master Handerson!" Nick was shocked. "Hurry up. Go and hold him down. This is the side effect of the medicine! Head nurse, the vein channel is broken and needs to be established again!"

All I could see was her. She was a wreck. Blood crusted under her nose. A long gash torn down her side where the beast’s claws had caught her. Her face was gray and sunken, her lips cracked. And her arm… I pulled back her torn sleeve and my heart stopped. The black veins. I’d heard about them. I’d seen them on the dying at the gates. But I’d never seen them on her, and the sight of them tore something open in me. They’d spread far past her wrist, past her elbow, climbing up over her shoulder, dark and thick and pulsing faintly under her skin like something alive.

The pain came without warning. Not the dull pulse I’d gotten used to, the low constant reminder that the curse was there and moving. This was different. This was every nerve in my left arm lighting up at once, a white hot thing that started at my wrist and drove straight up to my shoulder, and I knocked the report off the desk getting my sleeve up. The veins had crossed my elbow. I sat very still and breathed through it, both hands flat on the desk, watching the black lines pulse visibly under my skin. Moving. I could actually see them moving, slow and deliberate, branching.

The veins in his arms are popping, he’s trying so hard to keep his anger under control, for me. “I know, I know. But you can’t just hit him, I don’t want this to get any more complicated,” I say, pulling him up from the ground. Turning his hand in mine I note that his knuckles are slightly busted, traces of blood covering the torn skin. “You should have Dr. Shelby look at it,” I tell him, still examining the hand. “So it doesn’t get infected.” Charles scoffs from his position on the floor but I don’t give him any attention. I flex Drew’s fingers to make sure a bone is not broken, he doesn’t even flinch in pain.

He would be a fool not to notice how Vivie was smiling and both high giving She didn't even glance back or anything to see him, Victor lost it as he sat there. He didn't even bother to hear what the three men sitting with him were saying. His eyes were on the woman who lied to him. Seeing her it seemed she didn't care about anything "Victor, is everything okay?" someone asked him, bringing him back to his senses only to realize his breathing had increased. The sharp pain in his hand stung more than anything and when his eyes shifted down to his right hand. He realized blood was oozing out like water. He held the champagne flutes way too tight that the crystal stem shattered in his hand and t

He quickly got to Boulvar’s side to checked his vitals. His head and torso was so badly slashed by his own wind attack, that his face was thorn into shreds. His right eye was gone from the socket, his nose cut off, as well as his lower lip and parts of his chin. What he was more worried about, though, was the blood pumping out from the deep gushes on his neck and chest. “He’s not gonna make it!” said a student near them. “That’s arterial blood pumping out his neck! With that much blood gone...”

The fist hit the tree again. The knuckles were already gone—not bruised, not bloodied, gone. White bone showed through where the skin had split and peeled back. The middle finger had snapped sideways on the last punch, hanging at an angle that made the stomach turn. Blood ran down the bark in thick streams, pooling at the roots, soaking into dirt that had turned black. Another punch. The crack wasn't wood breaking. It was bone. The ring finger this time, folding backward until it touched the back of the hand. The person didn't stop. Didn't even slow down.