Dried Blood Under Skin Novels & Stories

As she peeled back the waterproof bandage Mirage and Natalia watched in fascination. “It is not as bad as I thought,” Mirage was surprised. There was a small raw hole, and around it a red area that edged into the purple, yellow and brown of blood under the surface of her skin, spreading over her chest and breast. “What does it look like from the back?” “About the same,” Natalia told her.

As she peeled back the waterproof bandage Mirage and Natalia watched in fascination. “It is not as bad as I thought,” Mirage was surprised. There was a small raw hole, and around it a red area that edged into the purple, yellow and brown of blood under the surface of her skin, spreading over her chest and breast. “What does it look like from the back?” “About the same,” Natalia told her.

" He left the office, closing the door behind him. The moment I was alone, I walked to the small bathroom attached to my office and locked the door behind me. I stood in front of the mirror and slowly pulled off my blood-stained shirt. The dark veiny lines were spreading. They covered my entire lower back now, creeping around my sides like reaching fingers, approaching my stomach from the front. When I turned slightly, I could see they'd also spread higher on my back, reaching halfway up toward my shoulder blades. The pattern was intricate, almost beautiful in a terrible way, like black lace painted on my skin. But I knew what it really was.

My vision flickered and spots of black clouded my sight, but I did not know why. It could not be grief, could it? That would be too humiliating. 'Lana Branch, you really misjudged him, didn't you?'

Avery stood in the shadows, a few steps away from the bed. When his bare chest was fully exposed under the harsh surgical light, her breath caught in her throat. Her gaze locked onto his skin. Beneath his collarbones and along his ribcage, a dense network of purple and blue marks spread across his torso like a map of hidden wounds. The bruises weren't recent injuries. They were the result of repeated injections, subcutaneous hemorrhaging, vascular necrosis from the cocktail of blockers he had been forcing into his body over the past months.

Gone. The room became quiet. Too quiet. Just the fire crackling softly. Just my heart beating fast. Just the wind outside the windows. I walked slowly toward the mirror. Big mirror. Gold frame. Fancy. I looked small in it. Lost. With shaking hands, I moved my hair away from my neck. Slow. Scared of what I'd find. At first, nothing. Just skin. Pale. Normal. The same as always. Then... A faint silver glow appeared under my skin. Soft. Pulsing. Like moonlight trapped inside me. Like something waking up. Something alive.

She finished. "What do you mean by a comprehensive check?" I queried. " I need to check every inch of her skin, for signs of a puncture. If it is what I think it is, then the puncture would have black veins running from it, by now. The black veins would be as tiny as threads for a needle and not as visible as normal black veins should be. Because this is the early stages." She explained. " What do you think this is?" " I think it's a blood enchantment."

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from gasping. If earlier I thought she was thin, I was sorely mistaken. Now that I stood so close to her, I could see that she was all skin and bones. Dark circles under her eyes, cracked pale lips with dried blood on the corner of her mouth. Her skin was yellowish and had small cuts all over her body and bruises. Some bruises were old, they were already a mix of yellow and light purple color and others were fresh, black and dark purple. What caught my eye was despite the state she was in and where she was, her eyes still had a glint in it.

I froze. There was something wrong. Something violated. Tender. Marked. My fingers trembled as I slid them beneath the sheets, down between my legs. My breath caught. The sensation was raw, the skin there swollen and sticky with dried fluids. Some patches had a crusted texture that was unmistakably blood. I pulled my hand back. Crimson specks clung to my fingers like some cursed reminder. I didn’t cry. Nor did I Didn’t scream. Instead, I smirked.

he chuckled. I looked down at myself, already suspecting I had a pretty good idea of what to expect. My suspicions were correct. My shirt and pants were black, so you couldn't really see the dried blood on them, but the fabric was stiff and gross and what you didn't see on the clothing was made up for on my skin. My arms were streaked with dried, flaking blood that seemed to chip away as I moved. How I hadn’t noticed sooner was beyond me. I guess my brain had been too busy playing catch-up with the whole Ryder-isn’t-dead revelation.