Bleach 228 Cover Novels & Stories

The smell of bleach stings my nose as I pour it onto the sponge, the liquid sloshing over. I start with the floor, dropping to my knees beside the bloodstain. The sponge soaks up the red, turning it a sickly pink as I scrub, my arms moving in jerky motions. My head throbs with every movement, but I push through, my jaw clenched. The blood smears at first, stubborn and slick, but I keep at it, pouring more bleach, scrubbing until the tiles shines. I move to the table next, wiping down the edge where the blackmailer’s hand had rested, then the chairs, my hands shaking so badly I nearly drop the sponge. Every creak of the building, every distant sound of a car horn, makes me flinch, my eyes dar

But for Alex, he automatically knew who it was as he immediately recognized his white hoodie that got splattered with paint in the colors of the rainbow. He scrolled up and as the caption, he simply had a blue heart emoji. "Blue."

he grinned like a typical annoying kid. Louisa contained the little laughter that bubbled in her throat to smile instead. "It's going to take ages to master it." She had decided to go with the beginning of the day's shade, Berry Nude. "A day will do. Try me." She shook her head in amusement, "Haven't used a number of them yet, but so far, there's Red Dahlia: when I mean business and strictly business, there's...are you sure this won't bore you?"

Just as I decided to go home and sulk over a bottle of whisky the moonlight caught something silvery on the sand which in turn caught my attention. I turned on my phone torch and bent to examine whatever it was. Sand covered most of it probably when Butterfly drove off so I had to dig it out. When I did I saw it was a decorated gold-and-black card probably the size of an ID that was an invitation to the opening of a club called Ecstasy!. I recognized it immediately because — Christ, what was her name again? — well, my newest conquest was ranting and raving about it before she started ranting and raving about me.

It was a single line of stark white text on a pitch – black background. LIQUIDATION INCOMPLETE. PHASE FOUR INITIATED. Attached to the text was a low – resolution, grainy photograph. I watched the blood drain from Lolita’s beautiful face. The photo was taken from far away. It looked right through the wet windows of the Dorchester gala from last night. It was a picture of us standing on the terrace. I was holding her, entirely captivated, completely unaware we were being hunted. And in the bottom corner of the image, digitally stamped in blood – red ink, were GPS coordinates pointing directly to this building. To Sovereign Bloom Capital.

Inside, the warehouse smells of rust and dust and old oil, the vast interior littered with broken pallets and machinery long since stripped of anything valuable. Perfect. Rowan leans heavily against one of the metal support beams once we’re inside, his breathing growing rough again now that the adrenaline from our escape has faded. The silver poison surges back with renewed strength. I can feel it. My fingers tighten slightly at my sides. I cannot help him again so soon. Not without risk. He notices the way I’m watching him. “You’re staring.” “You’re bleeding.” “That happens.” I cross the distance between us before he can object, reaching for the torn fabric at his side.

he whispered. Then he heard it. A scream. He stood, already running before the sound ended. --- The Cult’s Offering Near a clearing, torches burned bright. A girl knelt on an altar made of cracked stone, chains around her wrists. Hooded figures chanted in an ancient language, surrounding her with symbols drawn in blood. They raised a dagger—a twisted blade that pulsed like it was alive. Alaric didn’t speak. He didn’t ask questions. He moved like smoke, like death.

“I’ve claimed this room. Without my permission, no one else will use it. If it’s urgent, transfer the other patient to another hospital!” From outside the wall, I could hear Martin’s cold words. “No matter who it is, I won’t put Tricia in danger. I want everything foolproof!” I collapsed onto the bed, as if my body had drained of every last ounce of life. Just then, someone looked toward me in shock. It was Martin’s assistant, Conrad. His eyes widened as he rushed inside. “Boss, there’s a woman outside covered in blood. She looks like Madam!”

We are free from everything. The End.