Blood And Tears Novels & Stories

Saratan’s P.O.V "I own you, little vessel." His breath was icy against my neck as he leaned in, “Every drop of the blood thrumming through your veins belongs to me… and when you bore me, I’ll drain and stuff you." My pulse thudded erratically and I couldn't help the helpless tears that slid from my eyes, "P-please, don't kill me, I don’t want to be a blood vessel…" I whimpered, feeling my bladder give up on me and wetness flooded my thighs.

In that moment, I knew that my fate hung in the balance, and the choice I had made would shape the path ahead. As the tear rolled down my cheek, its shimmering presence illuminated by the soft, dim light of the room, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the sacrifices I was willing to make. It was a tear that spoke volumes, a testament to the lengths I was prepared to go with my plea, hanging in the air like a fragile thread, echoed through the silence.

I was so mad. I don't know where that madness was coming from. But I feel so heavy that I feel like I might shrink under the ground. I wanted to shed a tear, but nothing is coming out. I wanted to burst into tears, but there was something inside me saying NO! A single tear is not worth it to give to this woman. Raven got near me, and she held my hands while the old woman was shaking in tears.

The knife flashes across my face, he grabs a chunk of my hair, baring my neck. “Let me go!” I scream with tears raining from my eyes.

It was then that all her memories of before came tumbling in her head. Her body then slides down to the white-tiled that was floor of the bathroom. Her head resting on the cabinet that the sink was in. she began to cry hot and angry tears. But what is done is done. Plus it was only time before he would have claimed her anyways. But still, she had hoped that they could start an actual relationship beforehand.

"But first, you need to leave. I don’t want to do that in your presence. I need to take you back to the hospital." "Do it." She said. "Please." "Are you sure?" He asked, and she nodded. Flicking his gaze at the coffin, he went on his knees and opened it. The baby’s skin was pale, and he knew that if he didn’t feed her then, she was going to die. He quickly cut himself with the knife in his hand and trickled his blood over the baby’s mouth. As she drank the blood, he watched as her skin slowly brightened and her eyes changed to Red.

His eyes darkened when he saw my tears. His calloused hand reached for my cheek. He caressed it gently. I tried to smile to show that it was okay but my tears only got worse. His lips parted at my sudden burst of tears. He looked sad, weak and frustrated. In embarrassment I tried to avert the face but he wouldn’t let go. I hushed myself silently.

She made it to her room before the first tear fell. And then she broke. She cried with her entire body. Not because she was caught, or scolded—but because something inside her was unraveling. Her heart ached in ways that made no sense. Her blood felt foreign. Her reflection earlier… that gold glow still haunted her. She collapsed into bed, tears soaking the pillow, fingers clutching her chest like she could hold herself together. And then, darkness took her. But it wasn’t empty. Not this time. She stood in the woods again, barefoot, bathed in moonlight. The air was warmer here—sweeter. And she wasn’t alone.

"DAMN IT!" Hayden approached the lifeless body sprawled on the cold ground, while Miracle stood silently nearby, consumed by an overwhelming sense of defeat unlike anything she had felt before. A wave of guilt washed over her as her gaze fell upon the horrific wound carved into his chest—flesh torn open, ribcage dislocated—tightening her heart with a suffocating weight. Crouching, she outstretched her trembling hand to the boy. "What are we going to do about this, Hayden?" She struggled to choke back tears. "I-Is he going to be all right?"

Tears so full of passion and craving for more. Tears of disgrace and contrition. Tears of allowing this darkness Glenn spoke of to enter my soul. I wanted to peel my skin to avoid his touch. Pierce my eyes to avoid watching the other men’s stares. I wanted to sacrifice my outer being to save my soul. But at the same time, I also wanted to push my hips back to meet each thrust of his cock as he claimed my body under the moon. The red of my hair hung in my eyes, reminding me of the blood of a battlefield—my battlefield.