Blood In Blood Out Stickers นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Slipping the chip of my card on the sensor, the door pushes open to red stains on the white floor. It forms a pool and drags along in scary circles. Blood?!!

“You’re not hurt?” “No.” My voice came out steadier than I felt, which seemed to be the theme of the night. “Not physically.” His jaw ticked — that same tell from the car, except now I understood exactly what it meant. He was furious, and not at me. He crouched down beside Marco, who one of the medics was already working on, pressing gauze against the wound in his shoulder with quick, competent hands. “He’ll live,” the medic said without looking up. “Lucky. Missed the artery by an inch.”

In my palm, they found a small piece of a candy wrapper soaked in blood. On the back of the wrapper, a few crooked words had been scratched out in blood. I had carved them with my fingernail, bit by bit. The officer held up the evidence bag and read the words aloud for everyone to hear. "Mom, I wish you had never had me." The moment those words came out, the air seemed to freeze. Mom looked like someone had ripped out her spine. Her eyes rolled back, and she fainted completely. Liam stared at my body covered by the white sheet. He clawed at the floor like a madman, making horrible scraping sounds.

Sharper this time. I swallowed. My hands were shaking. I hugged my sketchbook tighter. He exhaled through his nose. Looked at the blood on his knuckles like it had personally offended him. Then he reached into his jacket, pulled out a black bandana, and started wrapping his hand. I watched, stupidly mesmerized. “Why were you there?” I asked quietly. His eyes flicked to mine. “I was passing through.” “Twice in two days you’ve ‘passed through’ exactly where I am.”

Our blood locked quickly. I had been marked.

Another photo. Me walking through the forest. Me sitting near the river. Me training. Me standing beside Jason. When were these taken? How were these taken? I flipped one over. The back was smeared. Dark. Sticky. My heart pounded harder. I brought it closer to the light. Blood. Dried blood. Sprinkled over the image like a ritual marking. Several of the photos had it. Jason’s face circled in red ink. My face scratched out in some. Highlighted in others.

“When you say ‘blood,’ how much.” Melody chose her words carefully. “Not… a draining,” she said. “Not an offering. It’s more like a mark. A press. You anchor a drop — literally a drop — and I work it into the ward lines. Like a… signature. A claim. It makes the scar remember who it shut for. It makes it harder for anything else to override that.” Baylee let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. One drop. She could do that.

Brick snarled as his beast blood began to boil enraged at being hurt so badly when he'd not been used to it beforehand. "AHHHH DAMN!" growled Brick his eyes blazing with fury as they began to shift in the wake of his pain and frustration. "I'm gonna have to dig out the bullet, if we're lucky it shouldn't be too deep," she said trying to reassure him. "Fuck, go on then." growled an embittered Brick as he did his best to stave off passing out from the loss of blood and the poison from the silver bullets. The two pieces of metal had not been enough to kill him themselves but the acidic nature of them beneath his skin and mixing with his were-blood would no doubt end him by way of infection if t