Bruised Novels & Stories

Until I couldn’t. And that fucking terrified me. "What was that about my hands?" I screamed, whipping around so fast I knocked into the bookshelf. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." I crouched, grabbing my shoulder. "Can’t I just grow some damn muscle? That fucking hurt." "Shit, I’m sorry." Dominic crouched beside me. "Let me see." I shied away. "It was just a little bump. I’m fine." He raised an eyebrow. "I do have muscles, and that would have hurt me."

Hеr flеsh was already bruised and battered from their fight, and now it was bеginning to tеar undеr thе forcе of his kicks. As thе minutеs strеtchеd on, Naida's consciousnеss bеgan to slip away and soon thеrе was darknеss. Whеn Naida finally regained awareness, thе world around hеr was still blurry, hеr sеnsеs numb from thе pain. Shе lay on thе cold, hard ground, hеr body aching and bruisеd. Blood tricklеd from hеr mouth and nosе.

Irina: “Fuck,” I muttered, taking my jacket off to see that my arm was bruised. It was a little too bruised for it to be a normal sprain, and I knew that the woman had harmed me a lot more than I thought that she did. I shook my head and rolled my sleeve to put cold water on my arm. It was going to heal in bit, but I didn’t know how much time this ‘bit’ was going to be. “What happened to you?” Nala, one of my colleagues asked, taking sight of my arm. “This looks broken,”

pathetic. I groan and force myself out of bed, my legs screaming with pain. The floor feels like it’s made of knives. Every inch of me hurts. I limp to the bathroom and stop in front of the mirror unbuttoning my pajamas. For a second, I can’t even look. When I finally do, my breath catches. There is bruises almost everywhere. Dark, angry shades of purple and blue across my ribs, arms, neck. My lip is split and my shoulder looks like it’s been slammed against a wall…..which, to be fair, it has.

It was a lot of blood. More than usual. I could feel the biting sting along my arm and shoulder where his wolf had bitten down and the slashing claw marks down my side. I assessed the rest of the damage I had sustained. It hurt to swallow. My body was bruised and sore. My left hand and wrist were badly broken. I had a lump on my jaw and a gash on my brow, right above the swollen black eye. I was certain I had a concussion by the pounding radiating through my skull.

SOFIA’S POV The sheets felt like velvet against my raw skin, but every movement sent sparks of pain shooting up my ribs. Violet bruises were still decorating my arms, and deep purple and sickly yellow could be seen in some areas of my thighs and face. These were souvenirs from Beatrice's goons before the duel. And when I fought with Beatrice, my lower lip was split and felt tender to the touch. One eye still refused to open fully. It still looked puffed and angry that I refused to look at the mirror. Other bruises had also started to bloom darkly over my ribs and arms, purpling my thighs, and feathering my jawline. I barely recognized myself.

He is right on my heels, still wearing his pink thong. This can't be real. "Hey, wait. I payed for two hours. You can't leave." He says grabbing my hand and pulling me back. The reflexes kick in and my fist immediately swings right at his face, landing a hard blow on his cheek. Pain shoots through my hand and I grab it. The weird man is on the floor, holding his scrunched up face. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He yells and I groan still holding my hand.

Beatrice says with a small smile. “I kinda like him too but now is not the time.” I say as she helps me remove the rest of my ripped clothing. “Holy shit.” She says when she gets a full look at me. Bruises cover almost all of my skin. The ones around my neck, hips and legs are in distinctive finger shapes. Blood adorns my thighs, lower abdomen and butt cheeks along with all the places they cut me with knives and their claws.

She grinned, waving the paper in his face. "Is that us? That's where we're gonna live someday?" He crouched down to ruffle her hair the way she liked, despite his ribs protesting, and that's when he saw it. A dark purple bruise circled her upper arm like a handprint. It looked like four fingers and a thumb, clear as day. Cedric's hand froze, his vision going red with rage. He said nothing, because he couldn't trust what would come out of his mouth; instead, he just let his fingers gently brush through her hair.

Just another slow breath, warm through my shirt. I pushed at his shoulder harder this time. “Get off me.” He barely moved. Instead, his fingers tightened slightly in my shirt. My brain was probably displaying an error at this moment, as the tightness in my chest kept brewing. For a second, I didn’t move. Couldn’t. Because his face… It was bruised. Badly. Even in the dim light, I could see the swelling, the dried blood at the corner of his mouth, the faint smear across his cheek. His lip was split.