Accidentally Touched Dried Blood Novels & Stories

He cocked a brow and grinned again, showing his dirty yellow teeth. "Knowing the father of your children is searching for you all over the city." I tried to pull my feet in, to make the ropes slack, but the cords scraped like teeth. My left hand burned where the knot dug in. I tasted metal and old blood from the blow to my head. Scar laughed softly and leaned closer. “You've been busy,” he murmured, glancing at the table across the room. My phone lay there, a crack running through the middle. I felt a cold thread run through my chest when he picked it up and swiped it on and watched the screen glow.

“I’m so sorry if I woke you. My stomach is just a bit upset from the traveling, nothing to worry about.” He doesn’t answer. His golden-amber eyes aren’t looking at my face. They are tracking downward. Slowly, his gaze lands on my right hand. I look down. My stomach drops straight into the floorboards. In my haste to pull up my gown, I hadn’t realized my fingers were coated. Not just in the green herbal salve, but in dark, thick, unmistakable streaks of fresh blood. The welts on my back had split open when I strained to reach them, and I had smeared the evidence directly across my palm.

Just quick looks, like he was afraid I might splinter if he lingered too long. I noticed his gaze kept catching on my wrists. He finally broke. “You’re… bleeding.” I followed his line of sight. Red had soaked through the dirt and dried sweat, thin lines trailing toward my palms like messy ink. I shrugged. “I’ve had worse days.” That part was true.

I let out a low breath, preparing to return to my patrol. But as my eyes dropped back to the floor, a drop of deep crimson color caught my eyes. Right there on the marble where she had been standing, was a drop of blood. I froze in my tracks, dropping to a bent knee. I reached down, and smeared the fresh liquid with my fingertip. I lifted it to my nose, inhaling deeply.

I lean down and touch the droplets of blood, and like I expected, it was fresh enough for the droplets to stain my fingertips. One of the things we were taught in the academe is that whenever we feel like a fellow consort was taken and they were injured, we could always tell if the culprit can still be caught. It all depends on the sun and the blood. Blood dries after an hour, in room temperature. Judging from the heat, it should have dried much faster. It was still fresh. They were still near. And we can catch them. Yohan caught on to what I was thinking immediately. “We can do whatever you wish to, after we give him a burial and after we make sure his family is alright and taken care of. W

I couldn’t tell what time of the day it was, all I knew was that I was alone. I sit on a fallen tree, trying to gather my thoughts. Running my fingers over my neck, I let out a sign. My marks still sat on my skin. They didn’t hurt and there was no pain in my chest so I couldn’t be too far away. But it also meant that I wasn't having a vision. A raindrop hits my cheek and runs down over my skin. Wiping it away, I notice the dried blood under my nails and across the backs of my hands. Smelling my fingers, I knew the dried blood belonged to Blake. What had I done to him?

I’d gladly worship her in any way that she let me. One day we’ll have that chance, we have to. The warm cloth glides over her skin, cleaning the area of all the dried blood before I gently press on the skin around her wound to see how deep it goes. She sucks in a sharp breath as a tiny droplet of blood spills over onto her skin and makes its way down her stomach. I watch it for a second, but before I can stop myself, my tongue lands on the bead of it, dragging up and over its path until there’s no trace of it ever being on her skin.

I quickly reached for a clean rag and damped it a little in the bucket. I brought the bucket out and set it down on the bedside. I took the now wet clean rag that was in the bucket out and squeezed it a little to get the water out. I slowly wiped the dried blood that was on her forehead and on the corner of her lips. I heard her wince in pain, and it hurt me. It hurt me because that bastard hurt her, and I didn't make it on time.

“Whatever you need.” It was all so vivid and real in my head that I opened my eyes, hand already stretched out of the water for him, only to find no one on the banks of the stream watching me but a squirrel who’d paused halfway up a tree to gape at the weird human touching herself in the water. I made a sound of disappointment and embarrassment and started to drop my hand until I realized dark gunk was clumped under my fingernails. Wanting them clean, I brought them closer and began a vigorous hand-grooming regimen, only to realize the grime was actually dried blood, not dirt or sand.

He afterwards went inside the wash room in order to wash his hands. Just as the door slammed behind him, Max came towards the basin to get some hand wash but at the same time, his eyes caught the sight of her blood that were coating his fingertips. Max raised his hands till the height of his face and have them a view. The blood had dried up. It hardly made a drop of the liquid.