Comfortably Numb Pulse Novels & Stories

Doctor Rivers mutters. I feel him swab my arm before I feel a pinch in my arm. Almost immediately the pain in my body was starting to feel numb. I could formulate thoughts much easier. I pull Adam’s arm down to my face, keeping him close. I vaguely hear the doctor say he will check on me in a couple hours and that he will be prepared to give me another dose, if necessary. I hear the door close as he leaves, and feel Adam’s hand leave my body.

Kendrick’s lower body was wrapped in a towel, and his upper body was bare, still slightly damp from the shower, sticking to Annabelle’s back, warm and moist. Seeing that Kendrick seemed calm and wouldn’t easily get jealous, Annabelle put down the hairdryer and turned around. “Just now, when I took Marvin’s pulse, I noticed his pulse was rapid, his chi pulse was thin, and the upper pulse showed a floating, large pulse. I’m a bit worried…” She recalled Marvin’s pulse earlier, pondering it. Kendrick didn’t speak but just looked at her, as if deep in thought. After a while, Annabelle asked, “Did you not understand?”

The heat radiating from my skin was enough to blister human flesh. "It is just the resonance, sweetie," I gasped, the lie tasting like copper on my tongue. I looked at the diagnostic monitor on my tablet, which was resting on the marble floor. My heart rate was dropping, stabilizing at a terrifyingly slow 40 beats per minute. But the electrical output of each beat was astronomical.

Now, stop stalling, Doctor. The exam was a lesson in subtle tension. His body was warm to her professional touch, the muscles bulging on his arm folding as she cinched down on the blood pressure cuff. As she heard with her stethoscope the pulse of his heart, the hard, steady thump was a drumbeat driving her beyond the limits of constraint. He was in perfect health, a specimen of maximum physical fitness. The perfect case upon which to experiment.

"I need to check your pulse. Give me your wrist." He put his wrist on the desk without argument. She pressed two fingers to the inside of it and counted. Forty-three beats per minute. Too slow. She counted again to be sure. "Forty-three," she told Rowan. "Silver fern and charcoal mix, then," Rowan said, already working. "Yes. No heat. Room temperature." She didn't take her fingers from Julian's wrist. His pulse was slow but it was steady — not dropping further, which meant they had caught it before the secondary absorption began. She breathed out through her nose.

I wondered hesitantly while taking another deep breath. Certainly, I slapped my own face for having weird thoughts towards an innocent victim of an accident. Then I clenched my fists, trying to tell myself to focus on switching my brain to rationality. "I should definitely check his pulse again, and then perform CPR," I decided. I reached out my trembling hand towards his neck. I didn't even know why I was nervous so much. Perhaps, it was because his aura was overwhelming even though he was lying on the ground unconscious. I touched the side of his neck, pressing the carotid artery. His skin was cold as if his body temperature was way below 36.6°C. Then I felt his pulse, but it was strange…

The female patient was so excited that her hands trembled and almost jumped up. "But..." the leader pursed his lips and said in a weak voice, "when the female patient first came, I reallydidn't give out a happy pulse. It's only a short day. Her pulse is much stronger than before. It's strange." Shen Mufeng subconsciously looked at an Taotao, "because it's just acupuncture."

My hands felt clammy as I broke out in goosebumps. I placed my right hand on my chest to steady my erratic heartbeat. After taking deep breaths, I sat at the edge of the bed. “It's the Lunara Pulse,” Emmie assured me before I could panic. “You'll get used to it.” Get used to it? Girl, no. I don't think I can get used to this. It feels like I've been injected with silver. I was trying but failing miserably. I was trying to desperately feign indifference to the blooming lilies that surrounded the room.

My pulse skipped. Oh god.

“Sorry, trainer. Tight space.” It’s a twenty-foot room. “Back up.” He doesn’t move. His body is an inch from mine and water from his chest drips onto my arm and I can feel the heat coming off him despite the shower being cold. I turn to push past and my hand lands on his bare stomach on instinct and we both freeze. The muscle contracts under my palm. His breath changes. My hand is flat on his abs and every rational thought says move it and I don’t. “Your pulse is visible,” he says, looking at my throat. “Right there. I can count it. You’re at about 120.”