Bed Bug Blood Stains On Pillow Novels & Stories

At 9:30 pm, after brushing my teeth, I walked into the bedroom and saw that Alice had already placed the pillow right in the middle of the bed. Not on her side, and not on mine, but dead center. "No need to sneak a sniff tonight?" I asked. Her hand froze on the corner of the blanket. "You…" "Let's smell it together." I sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up the pillow. The small lump in the bottom right corner pressed against my finger. It was Mom's handiwork. I buried my face in it. The smell of diesel oil and tobacco was faint, but this time, I actually smelled it.

Who will believe such lies, Deron, when the right answer clearly states the opposite of yours? Giving up on your lies, I just sighed before I diverted my attention back to the light switch I am groping. When a light of ball shined to the whole room, another mess greeted me. But what caught my attention the most was the evident voluminous stain of red liquid on the white comforter in your bed and another one on the floor just at the front of the bed, but smaller from the sheet. There were splashed stains on the white wall as well. The stains were so evident since every place where they were scattered are pure white. I felt you let go of my hand, just right when I turned to face you with a cre

"Sheets and everything were taken as evidence." "Was there blood splatter? Did someone..." Miles faced the door, intentionally putting his back to the bed. "Is it possible whoever was here got shot and their blood landed there?" "That bed was doused in something," Davies said. Diha crossed the room, moving gracefully. Before Miles could warn her against getting too close, she bent and inhaled just over the mattress in question. "Acetone." She straightened and looked at him. "This mattress had acetone poured on it."

I gave her a robe and led her to her bed, telling her to rest for a moment while I cleaned up the living room. Leaving the room, I brought my hand to my mouth, suppressing a scream at the sight of the mess that devil's daughter had made. My eyes widened as the cushions of the armchair were torn apart, and despite being caught, she continued attacking that pillow, or rather, that rag, since all the feathers were scattered everywhere... What am I going to do? I'm dead, those pillows are imported from Paris. God, we're talking about Paris, I don't even have a penny to my name, where am I going to get those expensive feather pillows from?

She was eager to know. Beth stood beside her and leaned in, she narrowed her eyes to better search for whatever it was she was trying to show. She couldn't at first, but she was stubborn and too curious. She leaned in further and that is when she saw it. Just beside the door's hinge was a large dry stain. It was like a splat of juice on the wall. Or was that…? "This is my son's blood." She said flatly.

My entire body freezes at the possibility that it might be what I'm thinking. No. I blink. No, no, no. I slowly look down, then I gasp. “Oh, shit.” I jump off the bed so quickly that I nearly trip over my own feet. Please don't let it be what I think it is. Please. I turn around. And there it is. A large, very obvious red stain sitting proudly in the middle of Tristan Hale's perfectly expensive white bedsheet. For several seconds, I simply stare at it. My mouth slowly falls open.

Mitch suddenly stopped after two kilometers, and he started to tremble all over. "Oh no, we're out of luck." Everyone looked down. Mitch rolled up his pants, and they saw a bloodsucking bug on top of his leg. It sucked on Mitch's blood greedily. The bloodsucking bug was pale gray and half transparent. The blood could be seen in its body as it turned a dark red. Mitch tugged on the bloodsucking bug and threw it far away, saying, "Damn it. We can't continue forward. Wilbur, there are bloodsucking bugs on this path. We need to head back."

My brain reeled back to two hours ago when I left the room locked. Convinced that it might just be a staff trying to get my room in order, I opened the door to find his face buried in my pillow, a rare and awkward sight to behold. And in addition to that, there were blood stains on my sheets, the crimson droplets didn’t spare my floors or the light pink covers of my bed. “Ron, everything alright?” I asked, reaching out for him as slowly and gently as possible so my presence wouldn’t startle him. He turned to face me and I pulled back, watching his hair become disheveled with water trickling down his face.

It shattered. “So much for the element of surprise,” Donald growled at him, throwing him a look. Darius couldn’t hear him. He strode inside and was momentarily thrown back by the disgusting smell. To a human it would have been bad, but to a werewolf, intolerable. There were bed bug infested mattresses on a garbage-covered floor. The original color of the tile was indiscernible through the grime. Propped against the walls sat and slept drugged-out humans, some awake though not really. It wasn’t just meth they were taking. They were on heroine, too.

That word grated on my ears, but my expression didn't change in the slightest. When I entered the master bedroom, the bed was perfectly made, but I immediately caught the faint scent of perfume that didn't belong to me. Even the positioning of pillows had shifted. On the pillow on Alder's side, there was a single strand of hair. My hair was a natural pitch black, but the hair on the pillow was a golden curl, just like Danika's. I picked up the strand of hair between my fingers and silently stared at it for two seconds before tossing it into the trash can.