Wounds Novels & Stories

Jinx stated as he power-walked past Wound. "Who are you telling, sunshine?" Wound growled, running as fast as his new limp could take him. Risking a glance back, it seemed that the turtles were more interested in basking in the cool spray from the falls than chasing them. Jinx slowed down to give Wound a chance to find his pace. His toe wasn't bleeding, at least not now. But it looked like it was going to be bruised and swollen before long. "You need to deal with that?" Jinx finally asked, nodding toward the old tom's foot.

He crouched down to clear the glass pieces scattered around the floor. "Shit!" He cursed when one shard pierced his finger. He lifted himself up slowly and plodded towards the bathroom, careful not to step on the splinters of glass. Neal put his wounded finger under the flowing water. It stings. He hissed in pain and searched the cupboards for the first aid, but it was nowhere to be found. He sighed and looked at the wound. His throat also felt dry. Maybe if he could find the kitchen he can get some water and a bandage or something? Neal nodded to himself and exit the bathroom. He hesitated for a moment before opening the door, the hallway was empty.

Ding! “Abnormal body condition report. Wound detected on the inner side of the left arm with a length of 9.9 cm and a depth of 4 mm. Blood clotting, normal, with a standard white blood cell count. Slight bacterial infection detected. Recommendation, use a disinfectant such as rubbing alcohol paired with an anti-inflammatory drug. Wound expected to heal within three to four days.” A cute, automated voice came out from the sphere. Everyone was stunned, while Nicole was very amazed. ‘It could detect my wound hidden under my sleeve?!’

I say, looking at her and feeling revulsion that something’s alive in my wound. “Bacteria. You don’t have as much as Lane had, but his injury was over a week old, as I said. Raif has done a good job so far of keeping the wound clean, but that would have changed over time. With warrior training, running, pretty much anything and everything you do allows bacteria to get into an open wound,” she says. I frown and sit as I look back at the slide, watching the nasty little blob squirm around. “Is that what I’m supposed to be looking at?”

The claw wounds on Steve's back were slowly and painfully healing, each day bringing both relief and unfamiliar discomfort. The deep gashes—three parallel lines that ran from his right shoulder blade to the middle of his spine—burned with every slight movement. It was a first for him, this human-like recovery process.

Making me the ultimate bad guy in his eyes, so four years into our marriage we were in a bad spot due to all this family drama. I was twenty-nine when everything went to hell in a hand basket and if it hadn’t been for that pocket watch I started wearing all the time, I would have died.

How had I gone from dreaming of a future filled with love and happiness to being trapped in this hell? As the days dragged on, my wounds began to fester and throb. The cuts and bruises had become infected, the skin around them swollen and inflamed. Pus oozed from the open wounds, mingling with the dirt and grime that coated my skin. I knew I had to do something to treat my wounds, to prevent the infection from spreading further and consuming me whole.

Now the adrenaline had left his system, he felt exhaustion creep over him and the pain from his wounds grew more noticeable. Vanadine lay back on the soft soil and probed his abdomen with scraped and cut fingertips. Three of the stab wounds Horann had given him were beginning to heal but the fourth and deepest felt raw, puckered and hot. Infection. Stuck in a crater in the dark, there was nothing he could do and he let his arm fall to his side as he gazed up at utter blackness. Muscles throbbed and the scrapes and bruises he had sustained started to nag at him as he slowly slipped into sleep he did not want.

A blade sliced through the air, finding its mark on his flesh, and a searing pain surged through his body. Chris staggered backward, clutching his wounded side, a mixture of agony and determination etched upon his face. Blood stained his clothes, but his spirit remained unyielding. He refused to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume him. Zelda, witnessing Chris's injury, rushed to his side, her eyes filled with concern and fear. She knew that this battle had exacted a heavy toll, and the wounds they bore were not merely physical. With trembling hands, she offered him comfort and support, urging him to remain steadfast.

the doctor informed them, "but it's nothing serious, fortunately. You shouldn't let the wounds come into contact with water until they heal, and you must apply the medicine every day." "Will there be any long-term effects?" Jackson asked. "The wounds are all skin-deep," the doctor replied. "No nerves or muscles were affected, though the wounds might leave some scars in the future." Jackson's eyebrows knitted. Once her hands were bandaged, Serenity desperately tried to clasp the photo album against her chest as if it was her precious baby. Seeing this, Jackson pursed his lips tightly, before once a