Old Wounds Novels & Stories

“What happened to you?” I forced myself to peel my eyes open and take my eyes to see exactly the same horror he was seeing. And when I saw it, I had just the same expression that was on his face. Across the surface of my abdomen was a wide slash-like wound. It was deep, ugly and bleeding like it had all the time in the world to bleed. But worst of all, it wasn’t healing. And it was fucking weird. Werewolves healed fast, even partial wolves and wolves that were yet to shift. But this…This wound looked hours old and it still gaped open like it had just been made.

Her prosthesis were too old now and she needed a new one or she was going to have more of these wounds on her skin from attaching her old prosthetic leg. She squeezed out some of the ointment out of the tube unto her index finger, slowly and gently rubbed it over her wound. The pain shot through her nerves and Nadia gulped hard, bearing the pain. The ointment burned against her skin, but Nadia knew the more intensity of the burn, the faster her wounds would heal.

I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding as soon as they left, those two sent cold chills down my spine. "Come, Sarah, let me apply ointment to your wounds," Olivia proposed and grabbed a bottle of ointment from the shelf. I took off my clothes and lay on the bed face first. Olivia gently applied the ointment to my back, every touch hurt no matter how gentle Olivia tried to be. She apologized every time I winced and became even more gentle but it was no use, my wounds were just too painful. "You're lucky that they are not too deep," Olivia said when she was done applying the ointment to my back. She placed the bottle back on the shelf and helped me put my clothes back on.

Erik scans the treeline. I peel my shirt off to see the wound. The slashes are faint now. Healing faster than they should. Even werewolves don’t heal in less than a day. They haven’t faded completely though, and somehow I don’t think they ever will.

I don't want to argue with Beau anymore about whose fault it is that he’s in this situation. "Yes, you can." The doctor turns away from me and faces Beau. "Please, Mr. Williams, I don't want to see you in my emergency room again today." "You won't, doc," Beau says, winking at her. I roll my eyes at him as he does this. He is such a playboy. As my gaze returns to Beau, I see a smirk plastered on his face. What’s that about? "Please make sure he doesn't let any water touch his wound. And the less strenuous activities he does, the faster his back injury will heal."

Against all odds, I actually won. A broken smile tugged at my lips but the sharp stab of pain from my injuries quickly pulled it away. My body screamed with every breath. The wounds it left me with were stubborn, sluggish to heal, just like the smile it gave me before. These new ones would take time to heal. More time than I wanted to admit.

She was not drunk and she came with ointment. Yes, we werewolves possessed a healing factor that is on par with a Vampires healing factor, however only for small wounds such as small cuts, slight burns etc. We cannot however heal as quickly as Vampires when it comes to more serious injuries such as gunshots, stab wounds (with the exception of silver), etc. So my wounds still stayed and it would have been impossible for them to heal when I was receiving a generous amount of beatings daily. So you could imagine how shocked I was to see Mother holding an ointment and standing in the middle of my room.

One of them slid my dress lower with slow, careful hands. “It’s almost closed,” the healer said. I exhaled, relieved for a moment. Then the relief died. A sudden, hot burn exploded across the wound. I gasped, breath stolen from my lungs. “Ahh!” The cry came raw and sharp, deep enough to scrape something inside me. My body twisted instinctively, but the pain held me down. “Hold her,” the old man said, and before I could push him away, the next wave hit, he poured the second layer of herb directly onto the wound.

The nееdlе mаrkѕ аrе frеѕh and ѕwоllеn. Shе’ѕ wеаrіng аn armband of ѕоrtѕ tо hide thе dаmаgе, but it hаѕ ѕlірреd down аnd еxроѕеѕ еvеrу hоlе that’s been mаdе in hеr skin оvеr the lаѕt two weeks.

I made my way to the bathroom, unwrapping the bandage with steady hands. The wound looked exactly like I expected, it was still very open and fresh with no signs of healing. This is bad. I cleaned it again, jaw tightening slightly as the sting spread through my side. “Arrrgh..” I tried not to scream too much as I contained the pain by clasping my teeth together. The oil they used wasn’t something ordinary. It wasn’t meant to kill but to weaken and slow me down. I finished rewrapping the bandage and adjusted my shirt before stepping back out.