Dried Blood Under Skin Novels & Stories

Panic flashed in his eyes, pure, unfiltered panic. “What the hell… are you okay?” I knelt beside him, reaching out to help, but the moment my fingers brushed his skin, he jerked violently and vomited more blood. I pulled back, but my eyes stayed locked on his. Something was wrong. I looked down at my hand, still resting on his arm, and noticed the skin beneath my fingers. His veins were turning black, dark lines spreading out like cracks in glass. They kept moving, snaking up through his chest, his neck, his face, until they reached his eyes.

My vision blurred, the patient splitting into two, wavering, before colliding back into one. “Focus,” I whispered, balling up the leaves into a neat little roll. “Focus…” I froze just as I was about to stuff them into her wound. Something about her skin looked… off. I knew what blood loss looked like: pale skin, blue lips, that waxy, almost doll-like look. But this patient looked different. The skin around the cut on her arm was all flushed and red, like she was feverish. Curious, I leaned closer, holding my breath to stave off the overwhelming scent of the blood. The veins branching out from the wound had turned a strange, dark color, almost purple, pulsing under skin that felt too hot when

Eternity will heal me as much as he can, but it’s getting slower and slower due to the lack of nutrition, water and proper sleep. I can feel the scarily large pool of blood under my body, drying to my skin and keeping me both wet and weirdly sticky and crackily. I can tell I have a fever with the different temperature fluctuations I’ve been having. I don’t smell anything but that might be because my nose has been broken several times and when I can breathe right, all I smell is my own blood and vomit.

Not hostile, but something hung in the air, it made my stomach tighten. *** The patient grew worse. His breathing became more ragged. His skin took on a grayish tint, sweat soaked through his tunic. I checked his arm again. The discoloration had spread, black veins now crawled up his forearm, pulsing faintly beneath the skin. I had never seen anything like it. "Everyone stop." The room went quiet. Elara came closer, she bent down beside me, her eyes narrowing. "What is that?" "I don't know." Maelis stepped forward. She looked at the veins, the pulsing darkness, the way the skin around them had begun to wither.

No, this hits right away like a speeding train plowing into me and tearing me to pieces. Two, I’m naked, but hardly a clean patch of skin is visible as I look down the length of my body. I’m covered in dried blood. I reek of it, and my skin is sticky and nasty. Whose blood is it? Mine? My heart races sickeningly as I search my body for wounds, but beneath the caked-on blood, my skin is smooth. Unbroken. So, I’m not the one who bled like a stuck pig. Who did?

"The trembling suggests fever, the pale skin suggests weakened circulation and the discoloration beneath his nails confirms exposure to extreme cold." She pointed toward his fingertips. "Three nights ago there was a temperature drop." The old man nodded. Several healers exchanged surprised looks, because she was correct. Perfectly correct. Muna's smile weakened slightly. Unfortunately for her… That was only the beginning. Aria moved to the second patient who was young warrior. His skin carried a strange reddish tint, and tiny blisters covered parts of his neck. Several healers had already failed to identify his illness before the competition. The warrior folded his arms and stared at her ske

I shook her, but she remained still and that's when I noticed the unusual paleness of her skin. Of course, she had pale skin, but she was too pale. My gaze flickered to her face only to see that her lips weren't red anymore, instead it had a faint purple tint. For reasons I couldn't explain, cold dread slipped down my spine. She was warm, yes — but her color was wrong… like she was dying in a weird way. I stared at the bloody room which was now dried, and then I wondered if it was blood loss. Without hesitation, I extended my claws and sliced across my wrist. My black blood began rushing out instantly.

he said, wiping his hands on a cloth. "His condition hasn't changed much since you left. But the black veins that marred his skin have receded and haven't been back and that's good,” he added. I have also been giving him your blood in two hours intervals and I think it's the reason why he is stable,” he said as he showed me Darius' skin that no longer had the black veins.

But she was still acting like she might burn up at any second. “Do you have a fever?” I asked, unable to shake the nagging worry that she was hiding something. “No,” she replied quickly, far too quickly. The lie stung the air between us. I didn’t need to be a doctor to know she wasn’t getting the care she needed. It was clear from the dried blood on her skin to the absence of a proper bandage. “Did you make the paste yourself?” She nodded, her cheeks darker than before. I leaned in, about to lick her hand again when I froze. “Is it poisonous?”

He said to me, I raised a confused eyebrow at this point. "How do I intend to make it work?" I asked him. "Tissue blood. I mean, when you said you had that covered, I thought I should be seeing blood in a vial or something of the container sorts. Not blood in tissues that seems dried up." He said to me,