Cracked Bleeding Knuckles Novels & Stories

Pouring some water in the sink I start washing the first cup when I begin to feel funny, something is going on in my body and I have to hold on to the sink with one hand. My fingers start to hurt really bad and the cup I was holding in my hand gets crushed in my palm, seeing the water get coated red when suddenly long, sharp claws slip out from my fingers and everything around me is coated in a golden color. It's painful and I can't hold on to the sink any longer when I fall back to the ground with a thud. Hearing heavy footsteps rushing over to where I'm laying in pain on the floor and trying to get some air down my lungs. Holding my jaw shut tight to prevent myself from screaming out the p

Katerina I've chewed my thumbnail down to the quick. The skin splits, blossoming red. Hissing in pain, I shake my hand out, clenching my fingers. I have to quit this bad habit one of these days. I always do it when I'm stressed. And right now, I am very stressed.

“What did the healer say?” “It's getting better.” Jared raised his hand for me to see. The gauze wrapped around his knuckles and palm was pure white, but since it had been changed the day before for the photo shoot, it wasn't too strange. I knew very well, though, that the wound was healing slowly, partly because he used his right hand a lot and partly because he was... just like him, not careful with the injury. Blood had already seeped through the bandage several times. “But the wound is still not completely closed. It will take another month, he said, and I still have to take medicines for healing.”

"I asked you to find an orthopedist, did you manage to see one? Did you get an X-ray?" Martin's suddenly remembered the injury to his hand, he furrowed his brows, feigning an expression of unbearable pain. "I didn't bring the X-ray with me! The emergency department said last night that there's no fracture, but there's a hairline crack in one of the metacarpal bones." A hairline crack? Although it wasn't a fracture, a hairline crack was still not something to take lightly. Patricia cautiously advised, "Try not to use your right hand for the next few days, wait until the crack starts to heal before you use it again."

Let's just leave the world as prettily as we can, alright? She then held my hand up—the hand that was covered with cracks, blisters, and black chilblains from years of collecting garbage, washing dishes, and other miscellaneous odd jobs. My joints and knuckles were large and deformed, and my whole hand felt dry and rough like dead tree bark. Mom sobbed as she slathered a thick layer of the face cream onto my hideous wounds, rubbing frantically and trying to let the oils seep into my skin to smooth out the cracks.

“OOF!” Will groans loudly. The thud sound of Will’s large, yet fragile body hitting the wall echoes through the empty space of the room. I stare at him, waiting for him to admit defeat. He was soaked in his own blood. His body was covered in deep scratches, holes were leaking a thick red fluid from where my claws dug in. I knew for a fact that I had blown his kneecap, broken a wrist, maybe even fractured a few ribs, yet he didn’t admit to his loss.

Selena reached out, holding her hand and she gently smiled at her, feeling grateful that she was right beside her. She took a look at the x-ray scans, understanding what was happening in there and Dr. Jonas Lyn explained, “Your ligaments were completely torn. The blade hit you right in the radiocarpal joint. Huge fracture right there on these bones. It will take around six to seven months to heal and a further six weeks to become strong enough. You’ll still feel a bit of pain, lose grip strength etc. It’s gonna be hard, Cassandra—"

Anna went on her knees and gently picked up the frame. She gasps when she saw how badly broken it has become. "Oh my God, how did this happen?" she cried out touching the picture of the broken frame and then a tiny piece of the broken glass pierced her right middle finger. "Ouch" she squealed and threw off the frame on the floor and held her right middle finger tight and blood gushed out.

Clara yelled. I didn't move. I just knelt in the freezing puddle, my head hanging low. "I said get more water, you deaf bitch!" Clara snarled. She stomped forward. She lifted her heavy winter boot and brought it down hard on my right hand. Crunch. "Ah!" I screamed. A sharp, blinding pain shot up my arm. The heavy heel of her boot ground my fingers directly into the hard, freezing cobblestone. The rough stone tore my skin open. Bright red blood instantly pooled around my crushed fingers, staining the white snow.

Maybe it was too important for her to get the case reversed. "I'll go to the bathroom to wash my hands. Give me a minute," Ling Yiran said to Yi Jinli. "Sure," said Yi Jinli. Ling Yiran went into the bathroom. The water ran down her hands, making her tension subside a little. Her fingers were not quite the same as before. Some of her knuckles looked a little strange because they had been broken before and she nearly lost them. Even if they looked like they had recovered now, it was difficult, if not impossible, to do certain movements. Her joints often hurt in cold, wet weather.