Wounded Waters Bleeding Novels & Stories

Rhae tried to ask between his deep and scratchy coughs. He couldn't reply, his voice coming out as a wheeze. Rhae wrapped his arm around her and swam, kicking hard to keep them both above the water. After all the energy they had both expended, the trip to the shore felt like hiking up a mountain for hours. But soon enough, they made it onto the sand, with Rhae hauling Ambrose out of the water. The water where they had emerged from was still bubbling and rippling, as if whatever was below the surface was still thrashing in pain. Ambrose rolled onto his stomach and continued coughing, water spilling out of his mouth. The same red circles covered his limbs and back, with a large gash running do

His silver eyes bored through mine, all life drained from them. "Fucking arseholes" I heard him mutter before lifting his torso upright. Eagle's wrists were pouring so much blood that it had formed a puddle around him. The bullet wounds that riddled him streamed down his clothes to run into the blood seamlessly. The blue glowing bands were now broken beside him, the bright blue liquid blending with the edge of the blood puddle.

There’s all sorts of mixtures in here; ones for stopping bleeding like this and other that can regenerate nerves in an instant or even heal the skin within a week. Opening the kit, I rush back over to Willow, dropping to my knees and spilling the kit out on the floor between us. I rummage through until I find some sterile gauze. I carefully pick up her arm, slowly unwrapping my shirt from her wound and tossing the fabric into the bathtub strip by strip until the large, jagged cut is in front of my eyes. The first thing I see is the dirt around the wound, mixing into the dark blood. “Shit, hold on, Willow” I whisper, stroking her hair away from her face in hopes of keeping her awake. She is a

The sound of wolves who loved the chase more than the kill. I pushed myself upright, my body screaming in protest. Everything hurt—my lungs, my legs, my arms, my ribs. The water had battered me against rocks and branches, leaving new bruises on top of old ones. My thin nightdress was shredded, barely covering me anymore. My feet were torn and bleeding. But I was alive. And they were coming.

White and black filled my vision. "Endure it a little more." Conrad's cold voice made goosebumps settle on my skin. "Ugh! My throat hurts from screaming. And tears kept flowing at the side of my eyes. The moment I looked down, realization hit me like a truck. "Why am I...b-bleeding?!" Dark red oozed out of me like water from a broken pipe. The white bedsheet is now stained with my blood and my previously lilac nightgown cannot be recognized by it's soft color anymore.

Amy screamed in fright, "Nisbet, you're bleeding! Your face is bleeding!" Nisbet reached up to wipe his cheek, his hand covered in blood. A hint of unease crept into his mind. Looking at the group behind him, he shouted angrily, "Why are you all crying out? It's just some minor flesh wounds. Pick up the guns!" "Our wrist arteries are severed... the bleeding won't stop..." Someone trembled as they spoke. At this rate, they would lose too much blood and die! "Arteries severed?" Nisbet froze.

Green tag: walking wounded. I'd never done this before. I didn't remember learning it. But my hands knew what to do. My eyes knew where to look. The old Brynn—the one who had spent three years invisible—must have trained for something like this. Or maybe the new Brynn was just good under pressure. Either way, I worked. --- The first critical was a young warrior named Finn. An artery in his thigh had been torn. Blood pulsed out with every heartbeat. "He's bleeding out," the healer said, rushing over. "I need pressure—"

I scoop handfuls of water over the thicker patches, working my fingers carefully beneath the sticky edges until the water can get underneath them. They peel away from her fur and dissolve with another hiss, and underneath them, I find the wounds. Fuck. Some are shallow scratches, but others are deeper, claw marks cutting through her white fur. Blood seeps from several of them, turning the water around her faintly pink before it clears again. “It's okay. I've got you.” I cup more water in my hands and gently let it flow into the wounds. Zanthe trembles beneath my touch. She winces and growls as the healing water reaches the deeper cuts, her muscles tensing beneath my hands, but I keep going.

It weakens me more. It also inflict undesired injuries and peel outer layers of my skin. It gives me first degree burns. Numerous blood also drip from it. Numerous blood pint have I lost. Blood flows and stains every nearby object. My red coloured blood heavily stains and recolours the green coloured wolfs bane coated rope. It also drip down the rope, through am arm and down my body. A huge blood pool currently forms beneath hanging me. Courtesy of my heavily dripping blood. My second skin layer is also affected.

Her gray hair looked like silver, and her beautiful face was dirty and bruised. She took a handful of the clear water and splashed it her face. The cold sent shivers down her spine. She rubbed her face a little and washed it again. Then she washed her wrist. She gently rubbed the golden flakes of blood that dried up around her wound. She didn't notice that her arms full of bruises and little cuts until now. She winced as the water touched the cuts. Serra felt a little light and loosen now. It's like as if the water drowned away some of the pain in her heart and in her body, bringing them down to the deepest waters. She could breath a little wide now as if like the thing that hindered her lun