Cracked Bleeding Knuckles Novels & Stories

Jareth said flatly, and went back to eating. When they had cleaned their plates, I quickly cleared the table and washed the dishes. The cream that Jareth had put on my hands last night had worked wonders. The skin over my knuckles was already healed, and my fingers were again soft and supple instead of chapped and cracked. It seemed to be a home-made salve; I wondered if he had made it himself. If so, I would ask him for the recipe.

Crack! There was a clear, crisp sound of cracked bones. The man’s wrist was instantly snapped apart by Azure’s punch. His wrist bone pierced through his flesh and was now exposed, with blood spilling out. “Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!” The man’s wrist hurt so badly that he couldn’t breathe. While holding his hand, he immediately fell to the ground and started rolling around, howling in pain. Those who witnessed such a bloody scene could feel their hearts pounding in shock, it just sent chills down their spines.

He was just talking about things that didn’t exist. “Carena! Seeing you like this is giving me pain—” he suddenly let me go and dropped to his knees. His body started making a weird cracking noise. I have transitioned before, but it didn’t sound like that. His bones were cracking and mending, like some were returning to normal before breaking again. “Ugh!” His skin started turning red and black in spots with a strange coating appearing on it. His eyes were bloodshot red as he raised them, and the veins under his eyes turned a visible shade of blue.

He sought us everywhere we went and now he finally caught up. My fingers poked my ankle and a slight whimper escaped my chapped lips in a painful moan. My ankle has gotten worse due to the absence of medicines to aid in healing. My throat was extremely dry as my fingers rubbed my throat softly and moved towards my hair and I felt the brittle wispy strands. It has been smudged from sleeping on it from the lack of pillows. Most nights I shivered when the rains fell far into the night and the cold came calling and most days the sun was so high and harsh that it had sweat dripping into my dirty clothes.

SMACK! Red, swollen welts had erupted across my skin, each one throbbing with pain. My bones ached from the countless areas where they had puffed up, and I couldn't even begin to fathom how many bruises had formed. The sight of my body was a gruesome one, and I couldn't help but wonder if there was also a slight, unnoticed trickle of blood seeping out from my battered body.

The knuckles are swollen purple, a couple of them split open, dried blood crusted on it. “Oh my, Percy…” I whisper. He glances at it, then at me, and grins. “Looks worse than it feels?” The doctor raises an eyebrow. “How’d this happen?” “Friendly disagreement,” Percy says smoothly. She doesn’t push it. She orders X-rays, and while we wait for the result, a nurse comes in to clean and re-dress it. Percy winces once when she dabs antiseptic, but he covers it with a joke.

The sound of his joints popping was loud in the silent kitchen. "You okay?" Elion asked, his eyes snapping to Cale’s face. "Joint friction," Cale dismissed, picking up his spoon. "The humidity increases the viscosity of the synovial fluid. Or decreases it. I forget the biology." "You need to see Dr. Aris again. Maybe get a brace." "I do not need a brace. I need WD-40." "You aren't the Tin Man, Cale. You are a middle-aged man with a bad leg."

He doesn’t know whom to believe, so he believes no one anymore. Jenny’s fingers relaxed from the palm of her hand. Her nails left four crescent-shaped imprints on her palm. The skin inside these imprints turned white, while the surrounding skin turned red. Her hand hung limp at her side, and her fingertips touched the rough stone pavement. The rough surface scraped against her fingertips, producing a “scraping” sound.

As I sat alone at the tiny table in our rented apartment, I stared at the confirmation for my spa manicure appointment. It was scheduled for 2 p.m. the next day. I had scraped that money together from my grocery budget, saving for two full months before I could bring myself to book it. Years of doing house chores had left my knuckles thickened and coarse. Every fall, the skin between my thumb and forefinger and around my fingertips cracked in several places, stinging whenever they touched water. I had planned to get a manicure tomorrow, then take a picture after Dylan slipped the ring onto my finger and send it to my grandmother back home.

His Majesty's loyal subjects are scared for the boy's life. The healer never came. The letter requesting my presence in the capital arrived twice a year, but Rick and Henry found a way to deal with that. They said the child had a very dangerous sickness-brittle bone disease. It does happen. A simple fall could mean a fracture, and a powerful hug could kill, cracking the ribs. After that, His Majesty never insisted on seeing me, although he did routinely inquire about my health. Rick and Henry answered him. I think that in a couple of years, they managed to break all the bones in my body, sometimes by turn, sometimes, all at once. And that's not talking about various inflammations and aggrava