Blood Clot Isaac Novels & Stories

Damon’s claws dug into Isaac’s shirt, nearly tearing it to shreds as he yanked him up only to drive him back down, “—you even breathe her name with those filthy lips, and I’ll rip you apart!” “Damon, stop!” I cried, my voice shaking. But Damon was lost in the storm. His growls deepened, mingling with the sickening thud of his fists connecting with Isaac’s body. Isaac coughed blood, cursing weakly, his face already swelling, crimson dripping from his temple. “Damon!” I lurched forward, grabbing his arm with trembling hands. “Please—he’s had enough! You’ll kill him!”

LILY’S POV The hospital halls were busy with people going about their morning business, but I felt like I was walking through fog. Last day was still fresh in my mind. Isaac, no-Cobra, showed me a side of him I didn't know he had. A picture of him standing over the dead body of the man he killed, gun in hand, kept coming back to me. I saw it again every time I closed my eyes. And his words kept going through my mind: Monster.

“That clip fucking nailed it!” “That was awesome, Fran!” cried Isaac, showing up by her side with one of his bright grins. “You fucking killed us all! Did you hear how they were cheering and clapping?” “Mission accomplished,” I replied, chuckling. Isaac put on his readers and looked closer at the screen, frowning. “You look like blurry. Where are you?” “Oh, it’s Kujo. I’m literally inside of him.” “Isaac. Trisha.” “Hey, big boy!”

He sought sanctuary with Derick, knowing that Blake wanted him dead. "Derick! Please, you have to protect me," Mr. Isaac pleaded, his voice trembling with fear. "Blake wants me dead. He ruined your company, destroyed everything you worked for. I had no choice but to do his bidding. Please, save me." Derick's expression hardened, the weight of betrayal and loss heavy on his shoulders. He looked into Mr. Isaac's eyes, searching for any trace of remorse or redemption. But all he found was a reflection of his own pain.

“Yes it's the only way to remember her, I didn't see a face— I couldn't... She was like a glow stick,” Isaac leaped towards me, grabbing a dagger from his stash, slicing through my palm, “Ow!” I cried out “Are you crazy?” “Hold still, it will heal” he assured me. I watched the blood on the knife, oozing down on the pendant, clicking it open, “That didn't happen before,” I whispered,

"Do you really not see it?" "You again." "Stop lying to yourself, Isaac." "I don't know what you're talking about." "You have to look back." "I don't have a past." "We all have a past, Isaac." "Stop it!" "Look." My whole body hurts; I can't move; my head is bursting. "I want to die." In front of me, there is a faceless woman tying me to a chair, yelling at me not to move, or she'll kill me.

she raises an eyebrow dubiously, aiming her question towards me along with her returning gaze to which I shake my head. “You have no memory of the attack in the clearing?” Isaac's eyes widen in surprise, his face dropping upon the mention, riddling with guilt like he had just spoken of the world’s worst sin, “Oh, boy. Um, I don’t know how to say this exactly, but you’ve been in a coma for the past three months,” he shakes his head.

the attending doctor informed him with a sense of urgency. Isaac’s heart sank, and a wave of despair washed over him. There was a buzzing sound in his ears, and his body shook. “I’ll donate my blood.” A voice cut through the tense situation, like a glimmer of hope. Isaac’s eyes lit up, and he turned around to look at the kind-hearted person. However, when he saw who it was, his expression turned extremely ugly. Nina stood in front of Isaac. She shifted her gaze at the doctor and said calmly, “I have RH-negative blood. I can transfuse blood to her. Take mine.”

Samael orders his guards, and the remaining man goes without a fight. Samael sits back on his throne, his hands dripping blood, and I trail my fingers up the back of his neck. A moment later, the doors bang open revealing a bloody Kieran. “I found Isaac,” he says, before collapsing in front of us, his body hitting the floor and twitching before going completely still.

Apparently, we should also go back to ignoring each other’s existence. “I can do it too,” I tell myself, addressing my reflection in the mirror. “Let’s see who does it better!” I’m about to march to the toilet in anger when I notice the dark mark on my collarbone. Grimacing, I push my pyjama top lower, exposing the entire splotch. He really gave me a hickey. A very prominent one at that. Oh, fuck him. *** “I hope you don’t get bored on your own,” Isaac says as he gets ready to leave. It’s already eight o’clock and there’s a weekend event at his job where he’s needed.