Newborn Eyes Bloodshot นิยาย & เรื่องราว

"And very eager to see his parents." She carefully lifted Aiden and placed him in my arms. The weight of him, so small but so real, made tears spring to my eyes all over again. "Hi, baby boy," I whispered, looking down at his scrunched-up face. "I'm sorry Mama wasn't awake for your first few meals." He was more alert now than he'd been right after birth, his eyes open and trying to focus on my face. They were still that newborn blue, but I could already see hints of the deeper color they'd eventually become.

Every passing moment intensified my worry, my longing for Shana to be safe and for answers to ease the anxiety I was feeling. Finally, a doctor emerged, his expression somber, eyes filled with concern. I braced myself for the news, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum. "Shana is stable, but her condition is perplexing," the doctor began, his voice laced with empathy. "We are conducting further tests to understand what happened." I exchanged a worried glance with James, our eyes reflecting the shared nerves that gripped us. "What about her eyes?" I asked, my voice laced with a mix of fear and curiosity. "Why are they bloodshot?"

Inside lay the baby—skin still flushed from birth, dark hair damp and curling at the edges, eyes squeezed shut against the light, tiny fists clenched near his face. He was crying—small, fierce, determined cries that filled the room. Elena stopped at the glass. She stared. Daniel stood beside her. He stared too. The nurse lifted the baby carefully. She wrapped him in a soft white blanket. She brought him to the window. Elena reached out instinctively—palm flat against the glass. The baby’s cries quieted for a moment. He turned his head slightly. His eyes opened—just slits, but enough. Dark eyes.

“Is he blind? Is there something wrong with his eyes?” “He’s fine,” Edric says. “He’s just small and the doctor is afraid that the lights will hurt his eyes.” “Oh,” Winston says. “I didn’t think…we can probably take his blindfold off.” A jolt of excitement runs through me. I can’t wait to see my baby’s eyes. The doctor leans over and very carefully undoes the soft blindfold. The baby startles when the muted light hits his eyes, his arms and legs flailing uncontrollably, then he quiets down and opens his eyes, looking straight at me. They’re grey, like mine. “Hello little boy,” I say and lean over to kiss him softly on the forehead. “Look how beautiful you are.”

And his eyes? Gosh! They were red. How could a baby that young possibly have red eyes? It doesn't make sense. I've never seen a baby with red eyes and now he has it. What could be the fucking problem? Oh goodness! “Please heal my son.” I prayed silently to the moon goddess, hoping that she'll answer me right away. I don't want to lose my son. And from the look of it, it seems like I wouldn't have him in my arms for long.

Nella’s POV The baby had finally opened her eyes. I had been waiting for it without knowing I was waiting for her to open them, through the feeds, the quiet, long, strange hours of hospital night and when it happened it was so sudden and so complete that I simply stopped breathing for a moment. Golden-brown. Exactly like his. An adorable replica. Just like the saying that goes: blood is thicker than water and genes are the strongest you'd find in humans. Her eyes are the vague, unfocused blue that newborns sometimes arrive with, it wasn't that indeterminate colour that resolved into something else over weeks.

they are not mine. "Has it ever happened like this before?" I asked her. She shook her head. "Never. Newborns are born with one kind of eye only and its red. It means they are hungry for their first meal, their first real thirst of blood." Her eyes were worried, filled with deserved concern as she looked up at me. "Are you hungry?" I wasn't. There were no pangs of hunger from within. There was nothing but stillness. Is that supposed to be? Am I not supposed to be raving hungry for my first taste of blood?

“I noticed her eyes were bloodshot earlier. That might seem normal, but it isn’t. Usually, bloodshot eyes aren’t as red as this. “Also, I discovered a small, transparent cyst beneath her lower eyelid. Here, look,” Yaksha urged, slowly pulling Xyla Quest’s eyelid downward. Indeed, the cyst he mentioned was there. “There is! What’s going on?” Sharon Lindt gasped. Stanley Batton remained quiet and stared at Yaksha, who had his brows furrowed.

Then, a low growl came from the iron cradle. I turned slowly. Inside lay another baby. Identical to the first, but... wrong. His skin was pale as death. And when he opened his eyes, they weren't blue. They were red. Glowing, blood-red slits. The red-eyed baby didn't coo. He bared his teeth—sharp, jagged fangs that no infant should have. He reached out, not for me, but for his brother. Shadows poured from the iron cradle, wrapping around the golden one, suffocating the light.

He stepped closer to help her but the new sight in front of him made him shocked. As if the girl had grown in a blink of an eye, she was starked naked with blood, dirt and bruises covered her whole skin down to her dainty feet but what affected his emotion more was her holding a lifeless premature baby in her arms. Both of the baby’s eye was closed shut with thin line marking what should be its facial feature. Her skin was reddish and veiny for it had no skin to protect her from the cruel blizzard which started to surround the area they were in.