Pulsating Shoulder Blade Pain Novels & Stories

ROSE My head is pounding and throbbing and it feels extremely heavy. My entire body hurts, but nothing is quite as bad as my chest. It is by far, the worst pain I have. It is so hard to breathe. And I can’t seem to move either of my arms. My left feels like it is tied up, but the right one has this nice warm tingling sensation moving up from my hand. It doesn’t feel tied up like the left, but like a weight is holding it down.

The pain sharpened, spreading through my shoulder, down my arm. My breathing stuttered. In. One, two. Out. One, two. Nothing changed. Nothing eased. My knees wobbled as I tried to steady myself. The world around me blurred. And the pain kept getting worse.

“We’ve got to get out of here, hide you away for a bit. Hide me away, too.” As he speaks, I hear a little click and then I gasp at the relief I feel in my right wrist. I groan as I shift my shoulder in its joint, turning my arm to again hold it in front of me. It’s incredibly painful, shifting the muscles that haven’t been moved this way in hours, but it’s the good kind of pain that just feels so right.

"Without Harmony, we won't win the next battle." He was silent for a moment. "You always say that." "It's the truth." He looked at her. The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he wanted to speak. He didn't. He turned and walked away. She stood there, watching his back. His right shoulder was lower than his left. An old wound. His shoulder blade had cracked once and never healed properly. Her gland gave another jolt. A warning. His frequency had left even more residue inside her, like sand leaking through a crack. It settled in the deepest part of her gland. Growing thicker.

Grinding pain. I hissed through my teeth, jaw clenched tight. No time to baby it. I leaned back against the rock, locked my spine, gripped the wrist with my left hand. Steadied my breath. Counted to three. Then jerked it forward and up. A sickening pop tore through my shoulder. Vision sparked white for a second. I bit down on a guttural noise and forced myself to breathe through the pain. It held. Joint back in place. The climb was slow, but I made it up.

ADRIAN I woke up to the steady hum of pain in my ribs and shoulder. Not the sharp, white-hot agony from before, but more like a dull and insistent ache that reminded me I was still alive, but just barely. Even breathing hurt so much, and I gasped for air.

It’s a hit. A bad one. There’s a sharp crack as my shoulder smashes into the boards, and a jagged white-hot pain shoots through me. “Dom! Dom!” someone’s yelling. Hands on me, tugging at me. I grit my teeth so hard it feels like they’ll crack too. Goddammit. My arm’s useless. My ribs feel like they’ve caved in. It’s bad. I can feel the bones grinding. But I can also feel them… moving. Already.

A small plastic square, unassuming and utterly out of reach. I let out a quiet breath. Reaching it looked like a monumental task. I inhaled carefully and shifted my weight, inching toward the left. The pain hit instantly. Not sharp—searing. It exploded through my shoulder like fire under my skin, ripping a sound from my throat before I could stop it. The noise came out wrong—too raw to be a cry, too broken to be a growl. It startled me. That definitely would have been heard. Instinct took over. My right hand flew to my left shoulder, fingers pressing down as if I could physically hold the pain in place. The pressure met thick bandaging.

The pain came in waves rather than a single strike, giving me just enough time to register it before it changed again. My shoulders were next. They dragged backward as if pulled by force, joints rotating as bone shifted position. The sensation was deep and heavy, reaching places I had never been aware of before. My arms followed, lengthening as the joints realigned. The pressure traveled down to my elbows and wrists, where it stalled for a moment before continuing.

It’s followed by a sharp sting that shoots through the joint, but it fades before I even finish the run. I shake out my arm once, grip the ball tighter, and score the first touchdown. Yet, I take another hit when a defender drives straight into my chest, forcing my shoulder backward. An electric jolt of pain shoots down my arm, followed by a strange tingling in my fingers. Taking in deep breaths, I flex them once, then twice. I exhale shakily when they respond. “Good enough,” I whisper to myself, then jog back to the line as if nothing happened.