Is Dying From Blood Loss Painful の小説・ストーリー

It was so hot that I couldn't help but groan from the pain. It was painful... but at the same time, it was calming. I couldn't understand clearly what was going on. I could still feel my blood still dripping down from my body. At this rate, I won't die from the pain but rather die from the excessive blood loss. I could feel myself now being soaked with my own blood. The white bedsheet had now been tainted with red. My eyes are starting to get blurry and my head is starting to get hurt. The veins on my forehead are throbbing. I grit my teeth from the pain. My whole body was slowly draining its energy.

Slowly, my misery melted into a blunt tingle until I was left with no other emotion. Just when I thought the pain was over, the knife was yanked out of my body again. Blood sputtered everywhere as a hot, shooting ache took over me all over again. I tried to double over, my body making a shrinking show. Nothing worked as the blood continued to flow, rapidly staining my dress until I felt that I had been bathed in my own blood. I felt down, my energy already completely drained. I blinked rapidly to keep my eyes open as I saw Grace and Rebecca struggling with the knife. I opened my mouth to tell them to stop, but no word came out as I was already losing consciousness.

I say again, but speaking alone makes my puncture wounds gush more blood. I try to apply pressure to the holes to get them to stop oozing, but I have no force left in me. The blood exiting my body is as hot as boiling water, and I can only moan in pain as more black spots begin to dance in my vision. I don’t want to close my eyes because I have no idea if this is the last time they’ll be open, but my eyelids are drooping and I can’t fight it off. I’m floating now. Way, way above. The pain is so great that everything is numb.

Kyle's POV Blood continued to pour from my mouth, more than seemed possible. It tasted like metal and mortality. It had failed and all the time I'd wasted believing I could outrun this ending. The machines around me began screaming. Monitors that had been beeping steadily burst into alarms as my vital signs crashed. Heart rate erratic. Blood pressure plummeting. Oxygen saturation dropping like a stone. Through the chaos, I could see Thomas standing against the wall, his face white with horror, his hands pressed against his mouth as he watched me bleed. His eyes were wide with the particular terror that came from witnessing someone die in real time.

“Argh...argh...argh...arghhhhh! Make it stop!” Noah was in a state of complete collapse. The pain of losing an arm was so much for him to bear. And losing too much blood was making his mind fuzzy. The facade of serenity completely fractured. He crouched on the ground, begging Nicklaus to stop the bleeding, all the pride he had was gone now he was like a beggar begging to be saved.

I can barely walk, and the loss of blood along with the pain is driving me over the edge of life. The blood loss is enough to kill, and it's enough to make me want to lay down. Still pressing a hand to my wound, I lay down on the cold, dead grass. It bites at my skin, unlike warm summer grass. Ouch. But the wound in my chest keeps my mind off it. Warm blood seeps off the front of my body and drips to the mean grass, feeding it my nutrients. At least something will be grateful for my blood...I think as my eyes begin to close. The fire makes the stone crack, and the shout of burning wood resonates through the smoky air.

It is in and out of consciousness that we take the drive back to camp. My leg is hurting like a bitch, and the only thing I can focus my mind on is…not fucking again. I don't know how badly I am injured; the moment I try to lift my head, I have Harrison pushing me down again. I have Lopez applying pressure on my leg to try and stop the blood from gushing out. I feel like a mess. I am losing a lot of blood very quickly, for the dizziness is starting to set in. Then…I am out.

He hits the floor with a heavy thud, thrashing, his heels drumming a frantic rhythm on the linoleum, kicking over a stack of chairs that fall noisily. He clutches his throat, trying to stem the flow, but blood pumps between his fingers, pooling around his head. I stand there, breathing harshly while I watch him die. I watch the light fade from his eyes. I watch the struggle slow down. And I feel nothing. No horror. No regret. No panic. Just this cold, clinical observation. The carotid artery, my brain supplies helpfully. High pressure. Rapid exsanguination. Weeks twitches one last time, then he goes still.

I clenched my fist hard, gritting my teeth with tears rolling down my cheek as I tried too hard to take in all of the pain. I had no wolf to help fight out of this situation. Sweat dripped from my forehead, the pain was nothing as I had ever felt, it crushed every soul inside of me, my fiancé had taken away my life for no reason. Blood suddenly sprouted out, splashing around as the machine began to make an alarming sound. Slowly, I was starting to feel the life drained out of me. Slowly fading in the darkness. “Be fast, she is having internal bleeding!” The doctor yelled out to one of his nurses, but at this point, I was no longer feeling the pain, my body was numb as I stared at the ceiling

Somehow sliding in my seat I pulled myself out and rested my head out of the door panting heavily. I tried to stay alert but the blood loss wasn't helping. My whole body started aching mostly my lower abdomen. My heart that beats normally and, in his presence, runs marathon a second, now beating slowly. Something crawling down my ankle but my head was way heavy to lift up. I spread my trembling fingers on one of the thighs. Blood. I think any moment the angel of death might be descending down from the sky. I looked at the endless road. A broken smile escaped my lips recalling my life. A painful one. And his face.