Blood Chart Homestuck Novels & Stories

Chloe helped Martha with a few of the chores around the farm that could be done at such an odd hour of the day before heading back to the house. The closer they got to the house, the more anxious she became. Would Baqman have the test results? Was she contaminated with vampire or werewolf venom? Or both? Would she need to have her blood cleaned? How did they plan on doing it? Were they going to give her a blood transfusion? As far as she knew, Martha was the only one in Manthella who had blood that would be compatible; providing it was the same type as hers.

A sheen of sweat dotted his forehead. "One more hour to go until the transfusion is over," Lilith said in the distance. "What?" I tried to lift myself, but Hunt pushed me gently back down on the soft couch I was laying on. "What transfusion?" Hunt lifted his t-shirt and I saw two thin plastic tubes stuck into his chest with dark red blood travelling through them. "We're being bonded," he said, steadying his gaze on me. I moved my hand to my chest and felt the same cord connected to my chest.

The only thing keeping me in my chair right now is Atlas' calming presence. "We also tested everyone's blood for various levels to see if your kidneys are in good enough shape," the doctor smiles. "Mr. Steele, you have B-positive blood, so you are not a match," he announces as he goes down the list. "The same is true for you, Mrs. Greyson. B+" She nods. She already knew.

I had never had it aimed at me personally before. "Mr. Sinclair," she said. "The preliminary compatibility results have come back from haematology." "And?" I said. She held my gaze steadily. "I am afraid they are not what we hoped for." Something shifted in the room. I felt it before I understood it. Like the pressure changing before weather arrives. "What does that mean," I said.

"How can you leave a girl in that condition? She has broken ribs, internal bleeding, and signs of prolonged starvation. Even for a pureblood, this is barbaric." "She is lucky she can still bleed," I said, standing up to meet his gaze. "Does the blood match?" Romilly sighed, the fight draining out of him. He handed me the chart. "It matches. She is a pureblood. High concentration, no dilution. It is a miracle she is alive at all." Rory didn't even look over. He just pushed off the wall and started walking toward the exit. He had raised the doubt, and now that he was proven wrong, he acted like the conversation was beneath him.

I click the mouse, opening the next set of lab values. "That's impossible," I say. "Your bloodwork from November shows a complete systemic collapse. I’ve spent my entire adult life reading medical data, and these numbers don't belong to someone with a chronic, manageable illness. They belong to a terminal patient.” A deep frown creases my forehead. “Honestly, looking at this chart, I wouldn’t think there’s any way the person attached to these numbers survived the month. This makes it seem like you’re terminally ill." Natasha walks around the desk to stand behind my chair, her eyes locking onto the screen.

His skin had faded to an ashen gray, the faint gold that had once burned through his veins now dulled to something fragile—like an ember on the verge of collapse. “Vitals dropping,” Dr. Aris said sharply, hands moving fast. “The Ancient Blood overloaded his system. His marrow is rejecting itself. He needs a stabilizer—now.” “Then give it to him,” Kael said from the doorway. His voice was hoarse. He looked like he had come straight from a battlefield—mud on his boots, rain still clinging to his hair, the scent of pine sharp with panic. “We can’t,” Aris snapped, holding up an empty vial. “He’s RH–Ancient Negative. Royal marker. Standard blood would act like a toxin.”

she said firmly. Elias looked at her carefully. “Promise?” Her throat tightened slightly. “I promise.” Victor’s jaw tightened as he listened, his silence heavier than any words he could have spoken. The results began appearing on the screen slowly, each number forming a pattern that told a story. Sabrina turned toward the display and felt her breath catch as she read the markers one by one. White blood cell count elevated, platelet count stable, hemoglobin normal, no collapse, no suppression, no sign of crisis. She ran the panel again to eliminate error only to receive identical results.

Terry holds out his hand and the doctors take tubes of blood and begin to run it through the machine. Zachary makes the base for the formula over and over once he has Terry’s separated blood, he adds the same amount he did of his own. “Too blue, need more red, I can hear it,” Zachary says, making Hank roll his eyes. Zachary adds more and waits. “Good Pop?” Terry asks. “You not top enough,” Zachary says. “Need more red.” After adding even more Zachary nods. The doctor tests the sample. “It works, but slower,” the doctor says.

Reid’s hands, his expression darkened with recognition. “Whose chart is that?” Dr. Samuel asked, his eyes not leaving the paper. “Why?” Dr. Reid replied, puzzled at the sudden interest of Dr. Samuel in the patient’s chart. “This can’t be…” Dr. Samuel muttered, his eyes scanning the data. He looked up at Maxton, his voice laced with disbelief. “These chemical traces in the blood, they match the components we have been studying in the Soulbane drug. But this…” He pointed to the chart. “This is an extremely high dose. Much higher than anything we’ve seen in the users at the facility. Who’s the patient? Still alive?”