Burst Blood Vessel In Finger Novels & Stories

A bright red bead of blood welled up, rich with vitality. I brought my finger to her bottom lip, gently tracing the split skin with my blood. Before my eyes, the magic took hold. The wound began to knit together, stitching itself shut until there was no trace of the violence she had endured.

, 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?

My feet touched the cold floor and I stood up, and that’s when I felt it. The inside of my right thigh burned. I looked down, the mark was still there. Two small punctures, perfectly aligned, just above the femoral artery. The skin around it was reddish, but not inflamed. The punctures weren’t bleeding. They had no scab. They looked… fresh. As if they had been made minutes ago, not hours. And around them, a purple luminescence so faint that I could have convinced myself it was my imagination. It wasn’t.

I faltered in pain after falling because some fragments of the broken glass scraped my arm and back, but I managed to get the bottle and successfully scraped all my fingers, causing blood to gush out of the open wounds. I would never let them take my fingerprints, no matter what. "What the?" a man screamed, seeing my bloody body on the floor.

"Ahh—!" The sharp cry tears out of me as the blade glances across my index finger. The knife hits the floor with a loud metallic clatter, spinning once before going still. For a second I only stare at my hand, watching the bright line of red well up and spill over the edge of my finger, dripping onto the dark counter. The sting comes a heartbeat later, sharp and strangely clarifying. Blood runs down my skin in a thin, steady stream. My other hand trembles as I instinctively clutch the cut, more tears escaping.

Something hard protrudes under the fabric on one arm where there should be smooth muscle and flesh. Arms smashed? And a knee-cap too... What was used? The answer's clear enough. On a side-table lie a hammer and a crowbar. I don't touch them, but again, blood smears over the dull metal surface. Baxter's quite helpless. Gun still raised, I move closer for a better look at his hands. They're a bloody ruin, the fingers smashed, almost jellified. Flesh and blood and bone drip red to the floor. No possible surgery could repair this damage.

With a sudden, violent movement, his fingers clenched into a fist. Crack. The sound echoed in my chest. He didn’t just break the card—he crushed it with so much force that his own skin split open. Blood dripped from his palm, bright red drops staining the cold pavement beneath him.

—like two notes of different frequencies being played simultaneously. Her fingers emerged from her pockets and touched his wrist. The tips of her fingers brushed against the skin on the inside of his wrist—the skin there was very thin, with veins faintly visible beneath. Blue veins resembled tributaries of a river. His pulse beat beneath her fingertips, each beat striking against her fingers at a faster rate than she had expected.

My elbow accidentally brushed against the porcelain vase sitting on the hallway table. I tried to catch it, but it was too late. [Crash] It crashed to the floor creating a loud noise. “Oh no…” I immediately crouched down, trying to gather the broken pieces. But I was too careless that a sharp sting shot through my finger as a piece pricked me. A thin line of crimson blood quickly appeared across my palm before blood slowly trickled down my hand. At that exact moment. The study door swung open. My entire body stiffened.

He understood and I was free. I winced in pain as my hand grazed the huge bump on my head, I felt the tip of my fingers get wet that's when I realized I was bleeding. The red, warm, liquid trickled down between my fingers to the back of my palm like a glacier flowing into the abyss fighting the urge not to lick it off. I cursed under my breath as the pain shooting through my head intensified. I heard gentle taps at the door followed by the creeking of the door open.