Blood Black Roses Novels & Stories

BLACK ROSES AND POISONED TRUTH NOELLE'S POV The knock on my door came later that evening. I was already in my pajamas, my hair messy, coffee barely touched, when I opened it to find a delivery man holding the most beautiful and unusual bouquet I had ever seen. Two dozen black roses. Deep, velvety black petals that looked almost dangerous in their perfection. They were wrapped in sleek matte black paper with a single silver ribbon. The delivery man handed me the bouquet along with a small cream envelope.

and left the kitchen. My hands were itching to spill her young innocent blood. I wouldn't be giving her an easy death; It'll be slow and painful as payment for the time and resources we've spent looking for her and when father comes back from his trip, I'll give him her corpse as a welcome home present I concluded with a chuckle. ROSELLE'S POV.

He clenched his fists as he stared out the window of his penthouse, the city sprawling below him like a maze. "You lied to me, Matteo," he murmured to himself. "You think you can hide her from me?" A sharp knock interrupted his thoughts. Rafael turned, narrowing his eyes at his trembling informant. "You said you found something," Rafael said, voice like silk wrapped around a blade. The man nodded, sweating through his shirt. "In Matteo’s jacket... sir. We found... this." He handed Rafael a small, dried rose, stained dark red. Blood roses.

Everything goes blurs, blackness engulfs me. Roman's screams echoes " Rose...no!" Next silence, then nothing but darkness forever. ############

The rain in Manhattan didn't wash away sins; it only made the blood slicker on the pavement. Sloane Volkov—known to the underworld as the "Black Rose"—stood in the shadows of an alleyway across from L'Eclat, a club so exclusive its entrance didn't even have a sign. She adjusted the hem of her gown. It was a masterpiece of deep, bruised purple silk that clung to her curves like a second skin. To the casual observer, she was a socialite waiting for a car. To the man she was hunting, she was death incarnate.

The hall quietened, the silence hanging like a thick veil - almost as if everyone had suddenly held their breaths on wisp. The red - haired male stepped forward, reaching out for the bouquet of roses. His eyes filled with silent contemplation as he stared at the blooming,fresh roses and then at Dylan's expecting eyes. Without another thought he tossed the roses to the ground, trampling on them with his shoes tilled their petals scattered around in the dust. Gasps rippled through the halls, a clear expression of shock from the watching bystanders. "Dylan, how many times must i have to turn you away and how many times must you embarrass yourself in public like this?. You know.....", Simone pau

A tiny crimson bead of blood welled up on my skin. "Careful," Greg murmured. He had been standing a few feet away, but at the sight of the blood, he stepped closer, his presence immediately grounding. I reached back in, more cautiously this time, and gently lifted the object out by the stem. It was a freshly cut, incredibly thorny rose. The petals, which must have originally been a dark, velvety red, had been carefully spray-painted pitch black. The edge of every single petal had been meticulously lined with a border of sparkling silver glitter.

I went over to the roses and lost myself in their magnificent beauty. I walked through the rose bushes until I reached the back and noticed the dark black roses. I walked over to the black roses and knelt to inhale their distinct sweet scent. I opened my eyes and marveled at their dark purity. Each flower had a small hint of scarlet red at the base of the buds, but it quickly faded to the darkening color at the petal's end. "AVAYY!!" Someone yelled from the other side of the garden. "I'm right over here." I screamed back, refusing to leave the black roses just yet.

She loves flowers. The stem of flower is very thick I take out my knife from basket and try to cut it. I cut the stem and as I go to put it my basket I hear a snap of twig breaking nearby. Thinking it were guards I stand up to confront them with flowers in one hand and knife in another and basket near my feet. But it wasn't father's guards it was a big black wild boar. I stay still as boar stands there, a little movement and I will become his focus for anger.

The lady was surprised and confused when he suddenly cut her off. "Y-Yes? I think she placed it on her vanity area." He felt like he was being poured with a glass of cold water when his speculation was confirmed. Hyde remembered it when he went to the victim's vanity table. He remembered what it looked like. A bird darker than a crow, and usually eats flesh from dead animals. A bird that means DEATH... A CARRION CROW.