Wounded Waters Bleeding Novels & Stories

The timer over the poisoned sky ticked down, an invisible pressure against my ribs. We needed to move. We also needed not to bleed out before we got through. Corvin’s gaze dipped to my side. “You’re leaking,” he said. “It’s fine,” I said automatically. It was not fine. The swipe from the drone’s tail had left a long, shallow cut along my ribs. The adrenaline from the fight had blurred it into background noise, but now that we’d stopped, the burn was sharp, radiating with every breath. My shirt clung damply to the wound.

"No, no, no. Vincent?" There. Still there. But weaker now. So much weaker. Blood is everywhere. Pooling beneath him, soaking into the earth, covering my hands. I press down on the worst wound—the one in his shoulder blade, trying to stop the flow. It seeps hot and thick between my fingers. "Come on." I push down harder, but it doesn't help. The blood keeps coming. "Come on, please." I need something. Anything to stop the bleeding. My eyes dart around frantically. There—moss growing on a fallen log a few feet away. I've heard of using moss to stop bleeding. Or was that in a movie? I can't remember, but I have to try something.

Ava's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Yes, baby?" "You're bleeding on the boat..." I looked down. A dark puddle had formed between my feet, blood dripping steadily from my side. The sight shocked me - I knew I was injured, but this was too much blood. I should have healed by now—wolf healing was fast, especially for serious injuries. Why wasn't I healing? Suddenly my head felt too heavy to hold up. The world swam before my eyes. The machete—had it been coated with something? Something to stop wolves from healing?

-RAINA'S POV- The malevolent presence stood still. My trembling, weak hands covered the wound. Blood geysered through the cracks of my overlapping fingers, intertwining with them as they pressed on the severe gash on my right leg. The thick, warm, sticky, dark crimson liquid coated them, crawling under my nails. It would not stop bleeding. Consciousness was dwindling. Reality blurred. The agony was extremely excruciating. The pain and sorrow of the pack amplified in my chest and I clenched my teeth grunting, drowning under a tidal slaughter that felt like it would burst out of me.

He had been stabbed through his stomach and I tried using the cloth to stop his bleeding but the water had turned red yet the bleeding was yet to stop. I wiped the sweat that had formed around my forehead as I kept trying to stop the bleeding. The bleeding suddenly splashed on me and I blinked my eyes, wiping the blood off my face as I stuck the cloth to the wound. “I’m so sorry” I pleaded with the soldier who was staring at me with lowered eyes. I doubt if he could feel the pain of the stab. The bleeding finally stopped and I quickly bandaged his wound. “They will come and check up on you now” I informed him as I carried the bowl and moved to empty it. The water had turned so red that you c

A white rose lay on the floor dripping with blood. A small, shiny blade lay beside it. A beautiful object in such a terrible and painful condition. The blood stain on it did not hide it's immaculate and beautiful nature. She puffed smoke in the air and took a sip of the liquor beside her, as she glared at the bleeding rose with sad and anguish filled eyes, it told a lot about her and her agony. She was as beautiful as the rose in front of her.

He cradles his stump, crying and shaking from the pain, his chest wounds are still bleeding and his eye is a complete mess, with blood and pus oozing from it. I sigh. “You’re going to bleed out before I’ve had all my fun, and I can’t let that happen just yet, can I?” I focus on the blood rushing through his veins towards the open wounds, and draw power from it, forcing it to slow, so instead of gushing from him, it’s simply a steady drip.

We didn’t stop. The river wasn’t much, just a wide stream cutting through rock and mud, but the sound of rushing water felt like hope. We stumbled to the edge. I dropped to my knees and drank, not caring how dirty it was. Mira did the same. Lark leaned against a boulder, pale and sweating. I looked at him. “You need to stop the bleeding.” “No time,” he mumbled. I crawled to him, tore the sleeve off my shirt, and pressed it hard against the wound. He winced.

Her blood was mixing with the water as he watched the color change. Once Brandon could see more of her body, he knew she was seriously injured. There were multiple large wounds and whip marks on her body. The skin that was ripped from the whips had small pieces of silver stuck on the flesh. He raised his now wet hand and slowly touched the blood that continued to fall as he stared in horror at the sight.

His condition could not be seen from Ayla. "No, no, don't get up. There's a lot of bleeding." Ayla said in a trembling voice while her eyes were fixed on the blood flowing from the deep wound below his chest. As he was getting up, blood would start flowing in the form of rising on the mud-filled shirt.