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.

Portals tearing open like wounds. My vision goes white. I feel something touch my forehead. Pain explodes. Warm liquid slides down my face. I’m bleeding. Not from a cut. From inside. Blood pours from my nose, drips onto the floor in thick, dark drops. Ezra shouts. “STOP! YOU’RE KILLING HIM!” The pressure spikes. I scream. The sword presses harder. Then — darkness. Voices overlap. Screams. Movement. Suddenly the pressure vanishes.

The shrub gave way to reveal a stream with clear water that flowed over glistening stones. “Fuck, yes," I growled as I rushed into the stream. Water splashed around, the sound of my chuckle tearing through the quiet forest. As I slowly descended toward the center, I gently pulled off the ragged cloak, careful not to drag it along my still healing wound. The water was cold and shocking but it did its job. Within seconds, the water flowing from where I stood swirled with crimson. Grime and pieces of flesh were carried away by the water as I scrubbed.

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—"