Why Do I Smell Blood In My Nose Novels & Stories

She leaned closer, tilting her head closer to his face. The scent her scalp gave off was both sweet and oily. Was it a definitive symptom of the viral infection? He couldn't say for sure, but he didn't want to scare her with his unproven hypotheses. Especially not now that he wanted to take her to the nearest hospital. "Just a bit," he muttered. She pulled away and squinted at him. "Why's your nose always so sensitive?" He grinned. "It's called hyperosmia."

As much as I wanted to cover my nose to get rid of the strange smell, I had to use my senses to find the place I should be going. I flinch when I hear footsteps just around the corner. Trying my best to lower my gaze, I continue walking. Biting the inside of my cheek, I walk slowly. I loosen my shoulders and made sure that I was only looking at the floor. Their footsteps turn louder and even though I didn’t lift my head, their scent was way too strong to ignore. It was a mixture of the dust that was around the room where I got my clothes, sweat, and the unmistaken strong stench of blood. My lips turn flat and I do my best not to vomit everything that I just ate in the last two weeks. The sce

It took all my strong will not to cry or wail. Before my watchful gaze I saw them all leave the mini house and disappear into the night. For many minutes I only stood at the entrance staring into blank space. Just about three hours since they left I felt the cramp. I realized my nose is bleeding again. Swiftly I dashed to the sink where I throw up. At night! This only occurs at night. I wiped off the blood from my nose with a tissue but when I turn around to walk out I collided with Soraya.

I had locked it. A sharp breath left me and I went to the bathroom to get ready for work. I didn't even bother looking at the time. As I finished brushing my teeth, I noticed something odd, pausing as I saw my reflection. My brows furrowed and I leaned in closer, only to see something that looked like a stain right under my nose. It was red. The memory flashed: the blood that had streamed form my nose the nigth before. A chill ran through me. So it wasn’t a dream.

Blood is still dripping from my broken nose, and I try so hard not to think about it. Eventually, I try to get up, but everything hurts, and my body refuses to move. I stay still for a few more minutes, then I try to get up again. It takes me five minutes to stand up. My legs are shaking, and I steady myself with the help of the counter. And I smell it. I look down, and I see blood on the white floor. The smell and sight of it make me faint. Memories that haunt me every night creep into my mind–memories that will torment me forever.

The smell always came first. It was not soft or slow. It wasn't like flowers or food. It came sharp. Fast. Like it had been waiting. Like it had teeth. It was thick, wet and metallic. It was the kind of smell that crawled down your throat and stayed there. It was blood. That smell was always blood. Even years later, I could feel it. Taste it. Breathe it in. And no matter how hard I tried to bury it deep, that smell would always find a way back.

Struggling to suppress the panic and worry in me as I can smell his blood wafting through the cracks in the door frame. He's been shot! He's hurt, injured! As I force myself to breathe and calm down, I eventually notice my hands are throbbing, stinging where the skin is broken, black and blue from the repeated impacts with the door. But I don't care, not even that I'm bleeding, I am just happy to be feeling something, happy in the knowledge that Elias is alive and we know each other are here. As the adrenaline starts to wear off, I can feel how much damage I have done to my hands. Inspecting them now as they drip with blood, the red aroma filtering up to my nose, filling my nostrils with the

I sniffed into my nose, at first it was just the smell of the dirt and forest air, but as I continued to sniff I could start to make out different scents. I can smell the feathers of the birds and there’s a creek to the right What else? I can smell you and I can smell Smith Who can’t smell Smith? Cole chuckled through our flash. Shut it, keep going, Zee I sniffed hard at the air, sucking it in through my nostrils. A foul metallic scent hit me. Kind of like blood but different, not human, and maybe rotten, it was off somehow. I think it’s blood, but it would have to be animal blood, and it’s old, at least a few days

I removed the towel from my nose, but blood continued to run, so I quickly covered it again. A sudden urge to sneeze held me, and I knew this was bad. I stood up and walked away from the table, my hand securing the towel around my nose. I sneezed hard, and felt a whirling sensation of blood rushing into my head which made me stagger, but I steadied myself with the help of the wall. My hand which I leaned on the wall covered my bleeding nose, while I had my other hand on my waist. Without turning to my doctor, I asked through the mind link, "Where's the restroom?"

I instinctively curled up even further into my corner, seeking refuge from the chaos that was occurring around me as a result of the agony in my head. The interior of the vehicle was filled with an intolerable odor, which was a combination of the corrosive quality of blood, dread, and perspiration. The odor stuck to my sinuses, significantly exacerbating the nausea I felt. Suddenly, my respiration became shallower, and each inhalation I took seemed less pleasurable than the previous one.