Cracked Bleeding Knuckles Novels & Stories

Shе’ѕ wеаrіng аn armband of ѕоrtѕ tо hide thе dаmаgе, but it hаѕ ѕlірреd down аnd еxроѕеѕ еvеrу hоlе that’s been mаdе in hеr skin оvеr the lаѕt two weeks. Thеrе’ѕ a lumр rіght іn the crook оf hеr fоrеаrm. It’ѕ in the space whеrе a needle hаѕ made іt mark tоо оftеn. It’ѕ wееріng pus. Mу frіеnd isn’t just wаѕtеd, she’s sick.

“I’m going back to my room to rest. You should rest early too.” Blair held her hand. “Did you apply the ointment to your hand?” “Not yet, I’ll do it before bed.” Blair put down the glass and led Mable to the bedroom. “Where’s the ointment?” he asked. Mable pointed to the coffee table. “In the drawer below.” Blair took the ointment out, squeezed it into his palm, and gently applied it to her knuckles. As he applied the ointment, he said, “The doctor said that your knuckles might feel sore the first few times you apply the ointment. Endure it for a bit. You won’t feel it anymore after a few times.”

[Cillian’s POV] "You struck the stone with immense force, Alpha," the Royal Healer murmured, his old, wrinkled hands deftly wrapping a strip of clean white linen around my shattered knuckles. "The bone is bruised, but not broken." I sat in the heavy leather chair of my study, staring blankly at the roaring fireplace. The scent of mint and comfrey filled the room, but it couldn't mask the smell of my own festering guilt. "Tell me, Gaius," I said, my voice eerily calm, never taking my eyes off the flames. "If a man were to drop a wooden scrub brush from a few inches above his hand... could it crush the bones? Could it split the knuckles open?"

"So I'm Dr. Bhandari and you have a swollen knuckle." Ben lifted his aching hand and she got a look at the damage. "Ah. Did they take you to get an x-ray yet?" she asked. Ben nodded so the doctor flipped on the screen in the room and tapped some of the controls to bring up the image. She made thoughtful sounds and looked back at Ben with a smile. "I don't see any breaks or cracks so I believe it's just a dislocated knuckle. I'm going to reset it and then we'll splint the finger. I'm sorry but this will hurt," she explained and he just nodded with a sigh.

LUCA The walk to the infirmary felt like walking to my execution. Every step echoed too loud in the empty hallway, and Conrad's presence beside me only made it worse. He kept shooting me these worried glances like I might snap again. Maybe I would. My hand throbbed where the skin had split across my knuckles. The cuts weren't deep, but they weren't healing either. That was the problem with moonshine. It fucked with everything, including the supernatural healing that should have kicked in by now.

I flinched at his action. His knuckles were bleeding. He was growling in anger and pain. Seeing his knuckles bleed, my heart dropped in my stomach. His fist was bleeding very badly. I started sobbing more loudly. I tried to take it in my hands to see the damage but he snatched it. “Don't touch me,” he shouted. I started sobbing and tried to control the hiccups but it was not in my hands.

He pulled his arm back and struck the wall again, and again, and again. Boom! Boom! Boom! The sound of solid stone fracturing echoed alongside the sickening, distinct pop of his own bones breaking. His knuckles split open completely. Thick, dark blood seeped out of his skin, gushing down his hand and splashing heavily onto the floor. Two of his finger bones fractured under the brutal impact, the sharp pain radiating up his arm, but he didn't care. He didn't even flinch. He just kept punching until the entire section of the reinforced stone wall collapsed inward, crumbling into a pile of gray dust and rubble.

Desperate to hold him back, to force some sliver of humanity out of him, I reach out and violently snag his right wrist. The moment my fingers wrap around his skin, I freeze. The skin across his knuckles is completely split, raw, and horribly swollen. Dark purple bruises discolor the muscle, and thick, dried tracks of dark blood are embedded deep into the cracks of his hand. It looks like he’s spent the last four days using his body to dismantle a concrete wall.

His breathing was strained, but he was doing his hardest to not show it. Creed stood casually while cracking his wrist. They observed him gently biting one end of the large bandage with his teeth and holding the other end with his left arm while tightening it over his injured knuckles. "Since you couldn't hear it the first time. I'll say it again… " Creed uttered as re-wrapped the bandage around his shattered knuckles, "Back off… or the next hole won't just be through your armor."

Someone tried to take my spot, jostling me to the side, and I stepped on the space for the elevator door and heard a small crack. I stepped back to try and figure out the noise and the shiny metal doors slid shut without me inside. I would just have to wait for the next one. I took a step back and stumbled like a drunk. The cracking noise I heard had been my heel of my shoe snapping in two. The heel was now completely missing off of one shoe.