Novelas y relatos de Bump On Skin Filled With Blood

The scene I was witnessing caused a lump to form in my throat, the trail of blood she had left behind, her milky white skin was now a pasty shade of grey with a blue tinge to her lips and she was unconscious yet again. So many questions streamed through my mind but I had to get her out, I pulled the needle out of her hand, a burning sensation travelled through my fingers “SHIT!” throwing the needle down “It’s fucking silver” As soon as the needle was removed, the wound on her arm slowly began knitting back together leaving a deep red line. Although the amount of blood she had lost was worrying.

was Dax's reply as he opened an empty bottle and Ciaran picked up the dagger again to score his wrist deep enough for a continuous flow, letting his blood spill into the bottle. After filling four bottles, Dax threw Ciaran's arm over his shoulder to help him to a wooden bench. His complexion was paler than a vampire's pasty skin. Dark circles formed under his eyes making him look thirty years older than he was. His skin clung so tightly to him that it would seem as if his muscles had diminished. He leaned his back against the bench, feeling the warmth it had absorbed from the sunny day seep through his cotton shirt to his now cold flesh. His eyes closed of their own accord and he tried despe

I nod my agreement as she shoves the clamp into my hand. Rebecca returns to rummaging through cubbards as I slide my hand back into his stomach, finding the end of his vein. It is leaking blood profusely, and I try to put the clamp on quickly. It slips in my fingers, and a drop of blood splashes upwards with the impact. I can feel it burning into the skin on my neck, but I try to keep my focus on the clamp. Readjusting it in my hands, I put it on the end of his vein and wait for the blood flow to cease.

He’s branding me. The blood doesn’t smear or drip. It sinks into my skin, disappearing beneath the surface—and then glows. A silvery, claw-like mark blossoms there, pulsing faintly in the light of the full moon.

Didn't stop until I was miles deep in the woods, far enough that I couldn't smell them anymore. Did I make it? I think I made it. I stopped to catch my breath, leaning against a tree. That's when I actually looked at my side. Blood. So much blood. The cut was way deeper than I thought, and the wolfsbane was making the skin around it turn weird purple-black colors. This is bad. This is actually really bad. I lifted my shirt to see it better. Four inches long, bleeding steady, and the area around it looked infected already. Swollen and dark and wrong.

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.

"How do I do it ?" I take the limp arm out of her hands and pull back the jacket sleeve. The blood vessels run like dark rivers under the skin in the moonlight. So tempting and vibrant. Gently I put a canine to the skin. With a quick jerk I draw a narrow tear in the skin, and the river of blood flows freely out of the wound. She needs no further encouragement. I can see how the metallic, captivating scent hits her nose, and she puts her lips over the tear. With a clear indication of pleasure, she sucks the liquid up.

Her short ginger-red hair spread across the dark sheets, the vivid strands standing out like spilled blood. My eyes swept over her. Her lips were beginning to swell. Angry red hives mottled the skin of her neck, creeping toward her jaw beneath the edge of her scarf. One of her hands lifted weakly to her throat, her fingertips scratching at the irritated skin as though she couldn’t stop herself. Her breathing was quicker than it should have been, shallow and uneven, but still unobstructed. An unnatural flush had spread across her face, standing out against her usually pale complexion.

It was a savage wound, a gash that seemed far too brutal for the grace of a human hand. The torn flesh was surrounded by a furious red, angry and inflamed, different from the normal hue of the skin. The edges of the wound were jagged and uneven, like a rough tear through fabric. It was as though something powerful had torn into the flesh, leaving a scar that was anything but neat. Traces of dried blood still clung to the edges, evidence of the violence that had occurred. It wasn't just a superficial cut; it had dug deep, exposing layers of muscle beneath. The mark seemed to throb with an unsettling intensity, causing so much pain.

My breathing grows heavier as the images reappear. Aerin’s hands on her waist. His mouth near her ear. My vision flashes gold. A low growl tears from my throat before I can stop it. Then my back burns. “Ahh!” I staggered to my feet and ripped my shirt off turning to the large mirror. Black veins have spread from where the Hollowed Vale vine had pierced me when Elara was pulling me out. I touched it and it pulsed. The edges look darker and thicker now. “What is this?” I whispered as I looked at the thing beneath my skin pushing outward.