Old Wounds Novels & Stories

Lila replies gently, "but his wounds run deep, far beyond what regular stitching can mend. The damage inside him is extensive, and it's preventing his body from healing." As Lila continues her efforts, my mind races with questions and doubts. Why isn't anything working? What could be causing his wounds to resist healing? A sinking feeling grips my heart as her words sink in. I had hoped for a quick fix, a solution to ease his pain and set him on the path to recovery. But the reality is harsh—I can't stitch away the suffering he endures, and the severity of his injuries is far greater than I had imagined.

he retorted, a hint of confusion tainting his voice. "Well, typically, scars that have been present for over a decade tend to gradually fade due to metabolic processes," Gwyneth replied, recalling the scar she had observed at the hospital. She was certain she hadn't misjudged it. Elizabeth's scar couldn't be more than a few years old at most. Furthermore, burns and scalds affected muscles differently, with scalds generally healing faster.

It was while I redressed his wounds that I first noticed it. The gash was jagged, angry, and ancient in appearance. It slashed diagonally across his chest, cutting through the sculpted planes of muscle like a scar etched in defiance of time. Unlike the claw marks that had already begun to fade, or the fresh tears of flesh I had stitched with shaking hands, this wound was different-older, unnatural, deliberate. It seemed almost alive beneath my fingers separated by gloves, ridged and raw in a way that made my skin prickle.

The claw wounds on Steve's back were slowly and painfully healing, each day bringing both relief and unfamiliar discomfort. The deep gashes—three parallel lines that ran from his right shoulder blade to the middle of his spine—burned with every slight movement. It was a first for him, this human-like recovery process.

My hand flew to the spot, fingers pressing into the throbbing heat beneath my skin. It was the same place. The same wound that never seemed to fully heal. And now it burned like fire. Fuck it.

It's almost like a 7-year curse, the first replied. We can only hope they make it past it and break whatever 'curse' you're talking about. The first anchor scoffed. You don't think it exists? How about you take a look at this? The cracks are already forming, you're just too blindsided to see it. She motioned to the giant screen behind her. The video that was played showed the fight that happened at the anniversary party. It seemed like an attendee took it, and the slap resounded a couple of times, like it was put on repeat.

"Theo's ointment is working wonders. The wounds are healing much faster than expected." Wendy chuckled. "Ever since your divorce, Theo has been far more thoughtful. He even came by yesterday to bring you more ointment." Something flickered in Sharon's eyes. She reached into her bag, took out the ointment, and offered it to Thomas. "Thomas, this works really well. Want to give it a try?" Thomas glanced at the ointment in her hand. "Alright." His worst injuries were to his arm; the rest were internal, which only time could mend.

He knew I was going to come. I felt so hurt and used but there wasn't much I could do, the pain in my stomach grew even more. Making me forget the embarrassment. I peeled my clothes off my body and noticed deep claw marks on my stomach. They weren't healing for some reason and that caused the pain. 'Were they getting infected?' I wondered. It was too early for the wound to get infected. It was supposed to heal. "V?" I called out to my wolf, why wasn't she healing?

Oliver was so disappointed in his parents that he walked away, leaving the two to dance happily on the money from someone who caused their daughter pain. Olivia was still lying on the bed. Her fever had broken but then her wounds were healing little by little. Omegas have little strength so their healing power is not as fast as other wolf's and again her body was so weak. She just wished she had died from everything that happened. Then she wouldn't have the eyes to face the shame that is awaiting her when she gets out of sick bed.

I could feel my body ache, but being awake made me feel better. After all, reliving countless bad memories from my childhood just puts me in a bad mood. I let out a sigh and ran my hand through my hair, feeling the tangled strands. What is Olivia doing now? I sat on the bed, feeling my belly slightly burn, at least it was almost healed. My eyes wandered around the room, noticing the emptiness. I could still smell her presence there. I got up, only then realizing I was wearing my sweatpants, and the wound was covered with a bandage. She couldn't help but smile; she had done that even though she didn't need to.