Cracked Bleeding Knuckles Novels & Stories

Deep amber-gold, catching the weak winter light the way embers catch a breeze. My hands were the worst. Fingers shortening and thickening, knuckles popping in rapid succession like someone snapping a bundle of dry sticks. The sound was obscene this close to my own ears. Nails blackened, curved, broke through the beds with a sting that was almost surgical in its precision then kept curving. Pads swelled beneath them. Palms that had been human seconds ago were now something entirely other, and the skin between my fingers stung tight as it fused and split and refused to decide which shape it belonged to.

Blood dripped down from his red knuckles. Raeherys struck another punch against the stone wall, but it was too hard. He couldn’t make a crack. Only traces of blood were marked on the stone cold surface. He hissed out the pain in his soaking red fist, and after a few more strikes, he finally gave up.

They were worried about his health. Once they arrived, they found Jacob smoking a cigarette in the car park. His arm was in a sling. His fingers to his upper arm were swollen. Black blisters were forming on his lower arm abd the back of his hand. His arm was pulsing with pain. The skin was tight and looked like if you took a pin and poked it, it would pop like a balloon.

I've been anticipating it, and soon, I'll have her singing it to me, endlessly. "Do you understand the damage going on right now?" I zeroed my eyes on the needle, finding delight from how it pierced into the broken skin of his fourth finger, drawing blood. "I'm hurting your tendons and ligaments. Soon, you'll experience swelling and won't be able to move your fingers. Know what tendons and ligaments are?" I tilted my head to the side, staring into his face, but the fucker was too busy whimpering to pay any attention to my words.

Opening my hand, I decide to rub my palm along a few of the all at once and watch how the reaction looks on a larger scale. It seems that when I touch the cracks only a part of them appears. Leaning forward I place my palm of the cracks that I smoothed and apply pressure. The cracks break in the same places just as before and all my hard work goes. To test the theory once more, I rub my thumb along a wider crack and the prick of a piece of ice has me jerking my hand back. I look at it in awe, surprised that it was able to penetrate my skin. The tiny bit of blood that drips from the tip of my finger lands on the ice below with a sizzle.

Ava’s eyes widened, and I stood still. “W…who the hell…” I said as I reached for the handle. I opened it, and to my surprise, Nikky stood there, eyes swollen from too much crying. Her lips were also swollen, and her face looked messy. This was how she always looked whenever she had cried too much, especially after we had misunderstandings or serious issues that almost affected our relationship.

“You sprained your ankle, Doc. You have a ruptured joint capsule and I bet you already have a huge hematoma on your ankle.” Mike didn't feel like checking his diagnosis, but Jack took off his sock anyway. The ankle was bluish and there was indeed a subcutaneous hemorrhage on the inside. “I need to check that your bones are intact.” Jack warned before starting to gently touch the cube piece by piece. “Rather whole. An ice pack and some anti-inflammatory ointment should ease the pain.” ”Thanks for the diagnosis. I believe that it is accurate.” Mike replied. "Were you a medic in the army? How did finish as a bodyguard of that conceited and spoiled rich boy?”

Oh, аnd I рullеd dоwn hіѕ fucking wrіѕt аt thе ѕаmе tіmе. I'm nоt ѕurе hоw muсh fоrсе an elbow can tаkе оn a muѕсlе bound guу lіkе thаt. What I аm sure оf іѕ thаt I applied way more thаn nесеѕѕаrу. Hіѕ аrm gave ѕоmеthіng bеtwееn a ѕnар аnd a crunch аnd wаѕ іmmеdіаtеlу useless. He ѕtооd in ѕhосk for оnlу a ѕрlіt second bеfоrе hіѕ еуеѕ wаtеrеd. At lеаѕt, I think thеу watered bесаuѕе my fist quickly met hіѕ nоѕе wіth a rе ѕоundіng crack. Down went thе big man. I ѕtооd оvеr hіm whіlе hе grоаnеd, holding hіѕ broken еlbоw with blооd flоwіng from a ѕwоllеn nоѕе. I'm nоt ѕurе іf hе could ѕее me. I bent оvеr аnd hіm аnd рullеd hіѕ fасе up to mіnе bу hіѕ hаіr.

Coming out of a blackout was always a painful experience, both physically and emotionally. Color blossomed like newborn flowers at the start of spring, sharpening before my eyes until the hallway with it’s vaulted ceilings and the lockers, as black as the raven in the University’s crest, came into view. I blinked a few times, flexing my fingers which brought on a sharp sting of pain that chased away the last of the grogginess. Ouch, that really hurt. With a frown, I looked down at my hands. The skin covering my knuckles was bruised and split in some places. There was blood speckled along my fingers, and I had a sickening feeling it wasn’t just my own.