Stabbing Pain Under Left Shoulder Blade And Chest Novels & Stories

Tariq The wound is high up on the left side of his chest, through-and-through, exit at the back below the scapula. The entry is clean. The exit is messier. Fragments of plate ceramic from the edge of his vest have come through with the round and are now somewhere in the muscle behind his shoulder blade. Possibly in the bone. The bleeding from the entry is bright red. From the exit it’s darker. And he’s lost too much already.

Every jolt sent fresh pain lancing through my shoulder, and beneath it, a deeper, more terrifying ache low in my abdomen that I couldn't stop pressing my free hand against, as though sheer will alone might keep whatever was happening inside me from getting worse. Dr. Alvarez appeared moments later, the same doctor from weeks ago, her expression sharpening with recognition and concern as she took in the scene. "Mrs. Thorne, again," she said, already reaching for gloves. "Talk to me. Where does it hurt?" "My shoulder," I managed, pain sharpening every word. "And my stomach. I fell hard, I don't know how hard." "We're going to take good care of you," she said firmly. "I need a full workup, feta

A blinding wave of agony shoots through my body as my left shoulder blade shatters, forcing me to shift back into my human form as I hit the bloody snow. The excruciating pain is unlike anything I have ever experienced, tearing through my nervous system like white-hot lightning and stealing the breath right out of my lungs.

Too close… A sharp, piercing pain struck my left shoulder, and I felt myself stumbling sideways. My legs buckled beneath me, and the world swirled in front of my eyes as I fell to the ground. A painful whimper tore out from my throat. “No… no…” “Freeze!” A voice barked. “Police! Put your hands up! You're under arrest!” I lay still on the dirt, staring dumbly ahead. The throbbing in my shoulder continued, and waves of hot, searing agony shot through my entire left arm. What the hell did they shoot or zap me with?

"The bond, I don't know how much you know of it, but I felt almost everything. I felt the blade when they drug it across your body." "Wait what? You couldn't possibly feel that!" Azrael said, confused. "I did, I would never lie to you about something like that. It went from here." Blake said, touching the top of his left shoulder, then ran his finger down and across his chest, all the way down to his right hip, making sure to go over the nipple because that part hurt the most.

Third fucking time. My heart is trying to punch a hole through my sternum. I press both hands to my chest, gasping, but the pain isn't just in my ribs. It’s lower. A sharp, stabbing cramp in my abdomen that feels like a ghost trying to claw its way back to life. I doubled over, squeezing my stomach. The phantom pain.

I already know how to get there… I just can’t do it alone. I stare up at the ceiling like an idiot, as if it might blink back at me with divine wisdom. It doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t. Then something slams into me. A sudden, sharp ache blooms deep in my shoulder, and I jolt upright with a gasp. What the hell? The pain radiates outward like fire licking through my veins. Before I can even process it, another jab slices up my neck. I choke. My lungs refuse to expand. I can’t breathe.

"Sure, I can put together a group of people by then." "That's cool—I'll see you there!" I was trying to lie back against the pillow when I accidentally dropped the phone on the ground. I found that I was unable to take sufficiently deep breaths, and I was having a difficult time preventing myself from overventilating. Even though I had taken a half dozen Motrin tablets, the pain in my ribs caused me to flinch as I ran my fingers over them. I made an effort to take deeper breaths, but as soon as I did, a searing agony shot through the left side of my body.

The cool water soothes the dryness, and I take a few greedy sips, feeling it trickle down my throat, grounding me. “Thank you,” I murmur, my voice hoarse, and Camden swallows, his gaze never leaving mine. “Are you all right?” he asks, and I blink, struggling to focus, to assess the strange numbness in my arm. I try to flex the fingers of my left hand, but there’s a sharp, throbbing pain, like something’s caught. My heart sinks as I realize something’s wrong. “My shoulder—” I whisper, fear creeping back in.

I rambled on, pacing back and forth nervously. Ted sighed as though I was the one being unreasonable. “It is in my pectoral muscle,” he said matter-of-factly. I froze mid-step and turned to stare at him confused. “What?” “The dagger,” he paused, “You said it's in my chest, it's not, it hit my pectoral muscles, not any major blood vessels. Just muscle.” He pointed to his chest, where the blade stuck out like a badge of honor. “Relax, I’m not going to die from a dagger wound.