Blood On A Rose Novels & Stories

I looked at her and nodded. I did everything I can do. But in the last part, I stopped. There's a rose on the table. But not an ordinary rose. Because this type of rose has magic in it. Within 1 minute this rose will turn into a monster. It's dangerous not because it can turn into a monster. But it will use your weakness against you before it kills you. "Kill the rose." I heard Drake said. I took a deep breath before stepping closer to it. I held it trembling. As I held on to it some memories entered my mind. Memories I don't want to remember anymore.

Nicole didn't answer; she opened the note, and her eyes filled with tears as she read what was written. "They say the color of red roses comes from the blood of Aphrodite. When her great love Adonis died, as she went after him, she cut herself, and a drop of her blood fell on a white rose, turning it red. Aphrodite decided to plant vast gardens of red roses to remember her great love." She sighed deeply. Inside the envelope, there was also a photograph. It was of Leandro's garden, where he had planted hundreds of red rose bushes. "Can you leave me alone, please?" she said, unable to hold back the tears streaming down her face.

One particularly vicious branch caught his cheek, opening a line of fire from cheekbone to jaw. He stumbled, hand flying to his face. His fingers came away slick with blood—too much blood for such a small cut. It welled up rich and dark against his bronze skin, running warm down his neck to soak into his collar. The metallic taste filled his mouth though he hadn't bitten anything. But there was no pain. No sting, no throb, no burn. Just the wet warmth spreading across his skin like a caress. He stood frozen, watching his blood drip onto white petals, staining them crimson. The roses seemed to lean closer, their faces turning toward him like they were drinking in the sight. Or perhaps she was

The farther I move, the more the blood, till I’m welcomed by a large pool of blood. Luna Sarah. Her heart, just like Aurora’s, is ripped out. And she’s lying in her blood. Her eyes snap open. They’re fixed on me, every inch of them covered in black ink. “Rosie,” she croaks, blood spilling out of her mouth when she coughs. “Why did you do this?” My eyes fly open and I let out a blood-curdling scream that makes my stomach cramp. “No, no, no.” This can’t be right.

The irony hit hard. As we drove further in, we stopped in front of the second villa. I stepped out and gaped—it was the most beautiful one of all. Painted soft white and pastel pink, with tall glass windows gleaming under the afternoon sun. Inside, the living room took my breath away. Gold and blush accents framed the walls, and the air smelled faintly of vanilla—my favorite scent. What a coincidence, I thought. A woman, probably In her early fifties, appeared from what looked like the kitchen. She smiled gently and spoke quietly with the assistant. I barely listened, too overwhelmed to focus on their conversation.

If there's anything I know about our world, it's that the need to relive your victory is far too great that sometimes the majority toss away common sense just to have the opportunity to gloat. I hope this would be no different. I hope I would be knuckles deep in some bastard's stomach by this time tomorrow. The attendant shakes his head, his entire face covered in sweat as he looks at me and looks away repeatedly. Fucking pussy. Yet, I don't blame him. It isn't everyday one could see a member or even two of The Black Rose without dying afterwards. But then again, it isn't every time one sees a member of The Black Rose in a fucking freezer.

A red rose is not selfish because it wants to be a red rose. ✾ “Your arm?” I blink reluctantly at the woman in front of me. Biting my bottom lip, I slowly raise my hand and show her my wrist. She grabs onto it, pulling it towards her. She smiles at me, or I think she does, the only part of her that I could see either way was her lips, the bottom part of her nose, and everything below her ankles. Then she pulls a small sharp pen from her pocket, stabs it on my wrist, making me flinch. The pen starts turning red, and just like that she had taken some of my blood.

And the blush that was barely receding was back again. "I'm not a pretty little flower, Roses are as pretty as they are dangerous." He scoffed, standing up and even from where he was standing, I could see that he'll tower over me. He straightened out his suit jacket. Eyes boring into mine. "The only dangerous roses are those with thorns Rose, and you my dear, you have no thorns. You're a pretty little flower, a harmless little flower." He walked towards me till he was standing right Infront of me, towering over me as expected, I craned my neck just too look at him. "I'll be taking my leave now pretty flower, say hi to Mr. Potter for me."

They came far after Erebus began to feed the rose by dropping blood on its petals, and the rose grew more and more of a bloodred scarlet, somehow looking enticing and delicious. Suddenly, Erebus stopped where he was, looking horrified.

A white rose lay on the floor dripping with blood. A small, shiny blade lay beside it. A beautiful object in such a terrible and painful condition. The blood stain on it did not hide it's immaculate and beautiful nature. She puffed smoke in the air and took a sip of the liquor beside her, as she glared at the bleeding rose with sad and anguish filled eyes, it told a lot about her and her agony. She was as beautiful as the rose in front of her.