Grey's Anatomy The First Cut Is The Deepest Novels & Stories

I already did two cuts over his flesh but it wasn’t enough to make him bleed. “ Cut deeper! Deeper for the blood to flow, Victoria!” Alpha Zac commanded, his anger throwing over his glare in the rearview mirror. Shutting my eyes, I growled and did what he asked me to do. A deep cut run through Alpha King’s flesh, the tip of the sharp blades made it through his flesh and I let it stay before dragging it deep into the sides and watching the blood flow out of his body. It made me frozen. “ V-Victoria…..”

I should end my life…. Alexa stood up with determination in her step and rummaged through the medicine cabinet. Her eyes darted to the razor inside the shaving kit. ‘I’m done with my life. I don’t want to keep going on. I can’t take it anymore!’ Taking the blade, she traced the vein on her arm, cutting a line across her wrist, slitting it open. She whimpered in pain, but she had to endure. Blood dripped out of her arm, and Alexa had to bite her lip to avoid making any sound that would catch Ethan’s attention.

“Don't be a hypocrite, Hellen. You made your bed, so lie in it.” The rest of my words died in my throat as I watched Anaya grab her already blood-stained knife and cut into the first nurse who helped drain her blood, but didn't do it the right way. She cuts her wrist without any anesthesia, then roughly inserted a tube connecting the blood bag. The woman screamed until her voice was no longer audible. The other one passed out from fear, but Anaya must have thought it through because she stabbed her with a drug, jolting her wide awake, and I flinched in my chair, fearing what would become of me.

Third Person's POV Amelia had screamed her entire being out, tears spilling out of her eyes as she called out for Grayson. He didn't come. So she cried even more. She felt herself being prodded and touched, she could feel the numbness, but that was it, she didn't feel anything. Fear had swept up in her veins as she couldn't feel her pups, the thought alone made her scream. She was covered in blankets, eyes closed as the doctors did their magic. They were afraid something was wrong with the pups, so they chose to cut her open in order to retrieve the babies.

Regretting that once it came out the only things I could do was grunt and groan as she sliced from my ankle to my thighs. Clenching my jaw to keep from making a sound. Pain is an old friend. “I’m gorgeous” she says and makes in identical slice right next to the first one. “I won’t ask why u killed him, it’s obvious I guess.” “Great.” 20 minutes later sweats sticks my clothes to my body and I’m breathing heavy both my legs are cut to ribbons and this fucking demons rain is making it impossible to heal. I’m bored. And I’m starting to get angry. The bed is so full of blood I’m acutely curious on how she plans to clean all this up.

Men will always be men. I took a long breath and snatched the scissors and cotton from his other hand.He was reluctant at first but a single glare from me ,caused him to give up.I examined his wound, well the cut wasn't deep but a chunk of glass stuck in his soft skin.My hands trembled.I had done first aid multiple times but I didn't know why I wasn't able to concerntrate.

There's no tremble or hesitation in my hand as I place the cool steel against my skin, pressing hard as I stare at my reflection, waiting… I wait for the tears, some pain but all I get is relief. I move on to the edge of the tub and drag the scissors, this time I look. It doesn't just bruise, it cuts. I feel nothing when I see the line of red, and I make the second cut. It goes deeper, cleaner, almost artistic. I can't help but wonder if this is how it feels for my victims too, is it as still and calm as I feel? I need more, I push the scissors down but before I drag it deeper, a knock on the door makes me freeze.

Third Person's POV Seraphina didn't waste another word. She just got to work. Mortimer pressed his lips into a thin line, his dark eyes fixed on her, silent for the first time. As the layers of gauze came off, the white fabric was a bloated, crimson mess. Without the Alpha healing factor to knit it back together, the wound looked jagged—angry, swollen, and raw. "The tear is too deep. You need stitches," she said. "I'm going to flush it first. Hold steady."

“Save your strength.” She half-dragged, half-carried him inside, straining under his weight until she managed to get him onto the couch. Her hands shook, but her mind was sharp, snapping into medical mode. She grabbed her first aid box, ripped through sterile packs, and reached for scissors. “I need to see it,” she muttered, cutting through his blood-soaked shirt. Ethan flinched but didn’t resist. His eyes fluttered shut, his breathing ragged. When the fabric fell away, the wound came into view a deep gash across his ribs. Aria’s stomach twisted, but her training took over. She pressed gauze firmly against it, applying pressure until the bleeding slowed.

I said. “Slow. So you can count them. And every time you pass out, I’m going to inject you with just enough adrenaline to wake you back up. You’ll live through all of it. Doctors on standby upstairs. Best care money can buy. When you’re healed enough to feel everything again, we repeat.” He whimpered. I pressed the scalpel to the skin just below his collarbone. “This is for the tear on her skin. " I cut. Not deep enough to kill. Just deep enough to scar. A perfect, deliberate line.