Bleach Quincy Oc Novels & Stories

Melanie got into the car and put on the seat belt. “Why are you here and on the way?” “I’m doing something nearby. I’m also paying attention to something as important as you participating in the Perfume Blending Competition. I wasn’t expecting to see you come out,” Quincy explained with a smile. “Heading home or for the company?” “No.” Melanie then said, “I need to go to the Certification Center first to get some documents.” “What documents?” Quincy asked.

I briefly wonder if I'll ever fully get over the scandal. "Okay, let's get you under the dryers," Quincy says as she throws the brushes in the now empty bowls. "Looks like Sue is here." I look over and see an older woman wearing a hoodie and dark sunglasses. Geni chuckles. "Oh yes. That's inconspicuous." "Don't make fun," Quincy says as she pushes the tray of supplies to the side. "She's you in about fifty years." "Hey!" Geni cries then stops to think. "Yeah, okay. That's accurate." She shrugs, turning to go get her own client who just arrived.

I burst through the final barrier into the grand foyer, and a wave of pure, chemical nausea hits me instantly. The air is thick and suffocatingly heavy with the unmistakable, biting odor of industrial bleach and medical antiseptic. It burns the back of my throat, my stomach rolling as my mind flashes back to the image of Stephon’s blood on the stone floor. Cade’s clean-up crew has already been here. They scrubbed the crime scene raw, erasing the syndicate's vulnerability before the elite could smell the copper.

⁠ I⁠ tied a‍ rag around‍ my face like a mask. I po​ured b‍l⁠each on t⁠he floor.⁠ I​ poured bleach‌ on the walls. The s​mell was overp‍ower⁠ing, ch‍emica‍l and sha‍rp‌.​ It burned my‌ e⁠yes, but I lov‍e‍d‌ it. It smelle‌d⁠ like purity. ‍I scrubbed the c‍oncrete⁠ on my h‍ands an⁠d‌ knee​s.⁠ I scrubbed the toilet‌. I s⁠crubbed the s‍ink.

Increase the dose. I suck in air too fast. The room tilts. Jeremy catches it on my face. "Adis." "Bleach," I mutter. "There was a room. Clinic room." His good hand grips the back of my neck, grounding me. "Stay here." As if I can do anything else. Boots hammer across concrete. More people now. Familiar scents break through blood and dust. Soap and pine smoke. Amber. Panic hits harder than the shock did.

Nine Lives was a strip club on the edge of 107th and hell, and that was me being generous about the location. It was also the place I'd been calling my second home for the past three years. "This bitch must think I'm all kinds of stupid!" Bianca Quinn—self-proclaimed queen of Nine Lives—tossed her faux diamond earrings onto her vanity with a toss of her manicured hand, the lights flickering in the wake of her anger. Sirens had a hard time keeping their electromagnetic fields in check during times of high stress, and Bianca wasn't an exception just because she was half. She flipped her head back, locks shifting from blood-red ringlets to her more natural blue-black straightness.

Maisie had told her that she would find someone to help her, and she frowned when she saw it was Quincy who had come. Quincy walked into the decoration shop and looked at the decorations she had picked. “This is it?” “All these are for birthday parties. Do you have any problem with them?”

I walked slowly toward the living room, the floor creaking under my feet, my breath catching in my throat as I glanced around. It was too clean. Like hotel-clean. Like someone had bleached the soul out of it. There was a faint chemical tang still hanging in the air—harsh, acidic, unmistakable. Bleach. My heart dropped. The couch cushions were fluffed. The coffee table gleamed unnaturally. Even the faded rug looked scrubbed. I turned in a slow circle. It was too clean. Too perfect.

Then I can tell you both about the others. Quincy nodded and went into the bathroom attached to the room. He pulled off his filthy shirt and washed his hair, face, and arms in the sink. Then he used the paper towels to dry off as much as possible before pulling the clean black T-shirt over his head. He was surprised that it fit him. She had even managed to find him a small travel stick of deodorant. He swiped it on and gave himself one last look in the mirror. "Much better," he said to himself before exiting the bathroom. Carla stood next to the bed, checking on Daryl. "Okay, so tell me about the others. How's the baby? Did anyone check on Leo? What about Ivan? Will he be okay?" Quincy was e

Caitlin replied, and they continued walking forward, soon arriving at Gavin's house. Quincy opened the dilapidated door and called out, "Uncle Gavin, are you home?" When no one answered, Quincy pushed open the door to the living room and walked inside to look for Gavin. But suddenly, a shrill scream pierced the air, "Ah! Caitlin!" Caitlin furrowed her brows and quickly walked over to find Quincy frozen in place, as if he had been nailed to the ground. A strong, metallic smell filled the air. It was the smell of blood...