Novel & Cerita Dog Bottom Jaw Trembling

~~~ We stood in the center of the broken Core, two strangers sharing the same breath. The silence between us was a living thing, heavy with the weight of everything he had forgotten and everything I couldn't stop feeling. "Is that why your hand is shaking?" I asked, pointing to his right hand, which was clenched at his side, the silver ring glinting in the dim light. He looked down at it, his expression one of clinical disgust. "A muscular tremor. A side effect of the neural discharge."

No trembling floor. And yet I could still feel it. The vibration. The rumble. I blinked several times, waiting for the lingering fog in my mind to clear. Then I turned my head slowly, wincing at the dull ache in my jaw. Brammon sat slumped in a chair beside the bed, his feet propped on the mattress. His head was tipped back at an angle that looked painfully uncomfortable. His arms were crossed over his chest, which rose and fell in deep, steady breaths.

The cold, calculated man who had dragged me down here just seconds ago vanished right in front of me. And then he fell. Hard. The sound of his body hitting the floor echoed through the basement, louder than it should have been, louder than anything I had heard all day. I flinched instinctively, my hands flying to my mouth as I stared. “No… no, no, no…” His body convulsed. Violently. His limbs jerked uncontrollably, his back arching as if something inside him was pulling tight strings beneath his skin. Foam began to gather at the corner of his mouth, white against his lips, spilling out slowly as his jaw clenched and released in uneven rhythms.

My whole body trembles, a low, uncontrollable shudder that seems to resonate down to my very bones. Lance sits on the edge of the bed, his head bowed, the muscles in his back coiled tight, each ridge standing out starkly in the dim light. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, fingers flexing as if he's trying to grasp the weight of his mistake.

[Beta Maverick] The trembling was abnormal, it felt nothing like it did when I shifted last night or the nights before it. I knew I was shifting abnormally again but why was there so much pain? Like the pain that usually accompanied shifting abnormally wasn't enough. My lips quivered uncontrollably, and my lower and upper teeth trembled violently, threatening to hit each other with an aggressive snap.

I think my bones are on verge of breaking . He was going to ask me something but before he could speak or utter a word a strange sound interrupted him . I assume the sound is of door opening ad someone else walked into the room. My jaw is hurting like hell , I am terrified, shaking from fear badly , I want to cry so bad but can't . I have suffered so many years , shed so many tears that water came into my eyes but still a tear didn't formed . The scary men released his grip on my face and moved backward. My jaw is still hurting from the terribly tight grip.

I slid my legs over the side of the mattress. That was when she started shaking. At first I thought she was cold. Her shoulders twitched once, twice. Then the tremors spread—arms, legs, whole body jerking like someone had flipped a switch and sent electricity through her. Her teeth clicked together hard enough I heard it across the bed. “Sharon?” No response. The shaking turned violent. Her head snapped back, spine arching off the mattress. A low, guttural sound tore out of her throat—not a scream, more like something trapped trying to claw free.

Lydia asked, rising so fast Hayes startled. Jessica placed the films on the illuminated panel and exhaled once. “This is not standard vertigo.” The room went still. Noah looked at the images with a detached expression that was somehow worse than panic. Jessica pointed to the highlighted area near the brainstem and vestibular pathways. “There’s a lesion pressing near the balance-control region. Inflammation around it explains the dizziness, double vision, delayed response, blackouts.” Lydia shook her head as if refusal could alter anatomy. “No.”

Tremors wracked his entire body, and he fought to remain upright as waves of anguish crashed over him. Ederic's surroundings seemed to fade away, his senses dulled by the overwhelming grief. The world became a blur for a moment, his vision clouded by tears. He moved closer to his mother's bedside, standing there as if in a trance. His trembling hands reached out to touch hers, the effort to steady his own shaking fingers a monumental task.

Estelle’s POV “Her hands were completely still.” Daisy tilted her head. “Earlier this week,” I said, leaning forward, “Harrison told me she had a bad episode. Real panic, real shaking. She knocked a watering can off a bathroom shelf because her hands were trembling so badly she couldn’t control them. He saw it himself. That was genuine—the kind of tremor you can’t manufacture.” “And yesterday?”