Burst Blood Vessel In Throat Novels & Stories

I laughed scornfully, summoning the Olivia who stood up to Gabe and endured the worst physical pain as a child. Rowan showed me the glass shard I’d been searching for. The blood had stopped trickling from his neck—the cut I’d made wasn’t deep enough. I hadn’t had the courage, but he did. As he pressed the glass to my throat, carving lightly into my skin, he said, “If I hit your jugular, know what’ll happen?” “I’d die in minutes from massive bleeding and rapid loss of consciousness.” “There’s another vein here, even more dangerous…” He pressed the glass harder. “It’s not a vein, it’s an artery… the carotid.”

My blood but it was dark red. “Brinley.... what is happening?. What’s that?”, Ryder stammered in shock as he watched me to. “I don’t know,” I choked out, holding my stomach and crashing down on the floor. “My throat hurts and it’s terrible.” I cried as let blood flow down from my mouth. “Wait.... shit!”, Ryder went for a face towel and dampened it before pressing it to my forehead. “Calm down. Deep breaths.” I was hearing his words but I couldn’t calm down. I kept on coughing onto the towel, turning it red instantly. Fear rushed over me as I saw more blood. Where is it coming from?

My saliva burnt in my throat when I swallowed it. My blood pulsed as if passing by sores in my veins. My heart rate slowed by the minute and I was afraid that any of these breaths would be my last. My body burned with a pain I'd never felt before. It wasn't like period pains, it wasn't like a stab or a scratch. It was something else. It was as if my blood itself burned and moved around my body full of little knives and glass shards.

My heart slams against my chest when several drops of blood disappear done her throat. Will this really work? Is she going to wake up now?

I gasped, clutching my chest as I fought for air that would not stay in my lungs. “Miss?” Thraia’s voice sharpened in panic. I turned to her, but her face had already begun to blur at the edges. “Thraia...” I heard myself whisper. A brutal pressure surged upward from my stomach. I slapped a hand over my mouth. Too late. Something hot spilled through my fingers. I looked down. Blood. My knees buckled, and I caught the edge of the table just as another gush forced itself from my throat, thicker this time, accompanied by pain so savage it felt as though my insides were being torn apart one organ at a time.

Saratan’s P.O.V "I own you, little vessel." His breath was icy against my neck as he leaned in, “Every drop of the blood thrumming through your veins belongs to me… and when you bore me, I’ll drain and stuff you." My pulse thudded erratically and I couldn't help the helpless tears that slid from my eyes, "P-please, don't kill me, I don’t want to be a blood vessel…" I whimpered, feeling my bladder give up on me and wetness flooded my thighs.

I used the wall as a support as I slid up, and then the pain in my back increased and I couldn't stop the coldness that attacked me. My throat felt dry suddenly and I could taste something familiar but almost forgotten in my mouth, then the cough attacked me and when I opened my mouth, what came out was blood, now I knew how serious this was. Seems I had done too much, especially my throat which I am still hoping will heal.

"But considering your circumstances, this is the best I can do." The swelling in Beardsley's throat came on like a hurricane, and he lurched against the steering column, grabbing his throat and tasting vomit in his throat. He let out a muted croak of a scream, not even loud enough to be heard outside the car. The saltiness in the drink now came to his knowledge.

I haven’t used any clotting agents because that will make the surgery more dangerous. "Saint. Stay with me." "Trying." "Try harder. Tell me what the bar smelled like." "Cumin. And... bird shit. Mostly bird shit." "Lovely." "You asked." He coughs again. The droplets are bigger this time which worries me. The round didn’t go through a lung, the angle was wrong for that, but it nicked something. A small artery in the muscle of the chest wall, possibly. Hopefully. Because it could be something worse.

But just as I am about to speak, a familiar burning sensation flares in my throat, intensifying until dizziness overcomes me. I crumple to the ground in agony, clutching at my throat, desperately needing blood to quell the pain. Damn, I hadn't fed since my arrival, and finding a blood bank for donation had been elusive. My legs give out beneath me, and I reach for any semblance of stability.