Bed Bug Blood Stains On Pillow Novels & Stories

His white shirt especially had traces of red that were so hard to wash that I had to stay extra long in the laundry room, scrubbing the fabric until my knuckles were raw. The stains were strange. They did not look like blood exactly, more like red sand that had been ground into the fabric. I had never seen anything like it before. I wondered what had caused the stains. "Should I report this strange thing to Darius?" It seemed suspicious, especially given Adrian's disappearance during the nightwalker attack. But then I decided against it. Adrian could have simply fallen down during the chaos. The grounds had been covered in dirt and debris. There was probably a reasonable explanation.

The bedroom is. Deep breath in, deep breath out, I opened the door; it didn't help. Harley surrounded me as I flipped on the light. 'Check the dresser drawers, Nick.' Nothing but the most wonderfully smelling bras and panties, I can't help myself as I bring a handful to my face. That leaves the nightstand. Of course it does. I move over to the bed, move aside Harley's fluffy, multicolored, bullerfiled blanket, and sit. Again, I get the strangest whiff of myself. Now I'm searching the surrounding bed, and I find an oddly not multicolored or butterflied pillow. Upon further inspection, I read 'Property of Motel99' stitched inside. Harley had come back looking for me.

Again. The hell? I started pulling more clothes out, tossing them on the bed one by one. A weird pattern was forming—and not the fun, aesthetic kind. It was all the same strange whiteish, chalky-looking stain. Rough in texture. Faintly discolored. Like something had... soaked in and dried completely. I stepped back and stared at the pile, heart thudding faster with every second. It didn’t look like lotion. Didn’t feel like lotion. And unless all my clothes had collectively decided to develop eczema, this was getting very concerning.

The sheets were tangled and disheveled, as if she had struggled to get out of bed in a hurry or had been dragged from it entirely. At first, I tried to convince myself it was nothing. Maybe she had just had a rough morning. Maybe she had been in a rush. That was what I wanted to believe—until my gaze dropped to the floor. My breathing almost hitched; there were stains. Dark. Dried. Unmistakable. Blood. The sight of it sent a chill down my spine, my entire body going rigid as dread pooled heavily in my chest. The uneasy feeling from earlier twisted into something far worse, something suffocating and impossible to ignore.

or whatever version he suspected was about to catch up with me. The phone kept ringing, the sound becoming more insistent, more accusing. I felt this unpleasant heat at the back of my neck. I sat up, holding onto the duvet around me like a shield. But as I began to shift, something my eyes met with on the bed made me stop. It was a vivid red stain that had seeped into the white sheets. It was the sight of blood. I gasped with my hands trembling, my eyeballs popping out as I pushed the duvet away,

The morning started like every other day. The air was cool, the kind that made you want to stay curled up under the blanket for just a few more minutes. For a second, everything felt normal peaceful, quiet. Then I noticed it. A dark stain on the floor near my bed. At first, I thought it was water, maybe something I spilled the night before. But as I sat up, rubbing my eyes, my chest tightened. It wasn’t water. It was blood. A thin, dark trail stretched across the white tiles, leading straight toward my bathroom.

I ask, smiling up at him. "Great idea." He says and I throw my arms around his waist to hug him tightly in excitement. "Let's get going then, time is not on our side." I hold his hand, pulling him along with me. The moment we enter our room, I pause momentarily when I see the state of the bed. 'Did we do that!? How come I didn't notice the first time?' I wonder to myself There are blood stains all over the sheet, obviously from both of us. There are also rips caused by claw marks in different places, that's undeniably my doing.

Something that made him uneasy. He threw the sheets off himself and stood up, pacing the room. Fred ran a hand through his tousled hair, trying to shake off the nagging feeling creeping up his spine. Something felt off. He could still smell her, a mix of vanilla and something uniquely hers, clinging to the sheets, haunting the room. But she was gone. No note. No trace. Just a ghost of her presence. His gaze drifted down, and that’s when he saw it. A deep red stain, against the white silk sheets. His breath stopped for a while, his body going still as he stared at it, noticing for a fact that it was blood.

"Look what I found." With the limited mobility she has in these ropes, she pulls back at the duvet, and then the sheet. My breath catches in my throat. Blood stains the entire mattress in thick patches, all of varying colour. These don't belong to her, which means they belong to whoever came before her. "Fuck," I breathe, fighting the urge to throw up. "I'm going to get you out of here but we need to be quiet. My father is here and he is conducting this...he's behind this."

This is not the first time I am carrying her but today I felt she is weightless and very thin. Carefully I kept her on bed and adjusted the pillows beneath her head to make it comfortable for her. I pulled the quilt to cover her but that's when something caught in my eyes. Blood stains on that white bed sheets. I stared at them with a confused face " Now from where did they appear? " I mumbled to myself.