Burst Blood Vessel In Throat Novels & Stories

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.

It wasn't even a hundredth of a second before she was hit hard by something on the side of the neck. His speed and precision were terrifying, but he managed to pull her out of the thundering waves of impressions with one jerk. She exchanged the shimmer of the images for deep, impenetrable blackness. She quickly passed out. He had hit the spot on her neck where the artery split into a deeper and a more superficial path. The point was very sensitive. When subjected to severe compression, the brain was signaled that the pressure in the carotid arteries was getting too high and that systemic blood pressure needed to be lowered. The result was a sharp slowdown in the heartbeat, most of which led

The sharp edge of the glass flashed a millisecond under the blinking neon before driving itself directly into the side of the bartender's neck, tearing his throat in a rough gash that broke the carotid artery immediately. The bartender brought his hands to his neck trying to contain the wound. "What are you doing...?!" the bartender managed to choke out, his eyes opening with horror as the blood began to shoot out in hot spurts between his fingers. "I told you to serve me the goddamn drink!" Rusty roared inches from his face, plunging the glass this time into his torso. "Goddamn... animal..." the man stammered, losing the strength in his legs, his body staggering backward.

he said as he turned on the engine and started driving. "A doctor for what, Sebastian?" "You were almost strangled to death. Don't forget that. We have to make sure that he didn't damage any blood vessels or your windpipe," he answered. There was no way that I could convince him that I was fine. So, I sighed and let him drive to a doctor. When we arrived at the clinic, Doctor Joseph attended to me and checked all my vitals before inspecting my throat. "All seems good, Miss Williams. If he held on to your throat for a minute longer, you could have endured serious injuries with the blood vessels in your throat. As per standard procedure, please wait for me as I go to retrieve your blood result

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.

He snaps, dismissing my concern. I can tell it’s difficult for him to catch a breath as he clamps down among fragments of glass on the man’s throat. The slivers slice at his tongue and roof of his mouth, causing blood to flow freely, but I get the sense that the voice we heard was a command and he can’t let go.

But the worst of all was the line that was going from one side of my throat to the other. It was not too deep, and it was obvious that while my neck and chest were bloody, I’d not lost enough of the liquid to worry about dying, or at least that was the least of my worries. I quickly went to the bathroom and took a cold-ish shower, trying not to irritate my already red skin with the additional hotness.

But the worst of all was the line that was going from one side of my throat to the other. It was not too deep, and it was obvious that while my neck and chest were bloody, I’d not lost enough of the liquid to worry about dying, or at least that was the least of my worries. I quickly went to the bathroom and took a cold-ish shower, trying not to irritate my already red skin with the additional hotness.

The complete, absolute lack of water aggressively transformed his severely crushed throat entirely into a violently burning column of crushed glass. Hours violently dragged by in a terrifying, deeply suffocating blur of raw pain and hot blood. He violently hallucinated the putrid, thick taste of the rotting vegetables actively filling his actively bleeding mouth all over again. He weakly dragged his entirely shredded, violently peeling tongue completely across his torn lips, actively tasting nothing but the thick, metallic tang of his own fresh, dark blood continuously pouring entirely from the deep gashes violently caused by the rusted muzzle.

Fresh bruises circled round my throat, looking dark against my pale skin. I took a painful, shallow breath, forced my eyes away from it, and rinsed my mouth. The relief of emptying my stomach was instantly crushed by a brutal hangover. A fierce, pounding headache throbbed behind my eyes with every beat of my heart, and the room tilted slightly whenever I moved my head. My throat burned from both the alcohol and the stomach acid. I dragged my feet out of the bathroom, using the wall for balance as I stumbled into the kitchen. With slow movement, I found a bottle of painkillers. I shook two tablets into my palms, and swallowed them. Wincing as it touched my swollen throat.