Blood On A Rose Novels & Stories

She already practiced her line and that is to tell them that she's not yet ready to enter a relationship. She smelled the rose before opening the card and read what's written on it. 'The redness of this rose is like the color of the blood of the innocent creatures that I'll kill if you won't be mine, Amalia.' -S. Stavros. She felt all the hair on her nape saluted and trembled in fear after she read it. She immediately threw the stem of rose and the card while her eyes heated and started to tear up.

Instead, her hands stayed on her face, caressing and nibbing. ‘How did she get to this? She remembered insulting the man in white at the burial ceremony of her best friend. His beauty hypnotized her at first. His prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw had trapped her eyes in them. His silver glistening eyes devoured her own eyes, making it hard to look away.’

Or was it not a sweven? She could still imagine that very moment in their P.E.class when her whole body gradually hardened and somehow she herself was turning to a…to a rose. Not just a rose, a blood rose. Or was it just an ordinary rose? She’d never seen an actual blood rose before anyway and Rozelyn bet that it was far more different than any other roses. It possesses such extraordinary abilities and so it shall also possess an extraordinary appearance. She licked the blood from her finger, making her tongue taste the blood that it had been craving.

It’s quiet, but it’s not the silence that freezes me. A fresh batch of deep red roses sits in the vase, each stem perfectly arranged. I haven’t touched it today, and my siblings know better than to mess with the flowers. The anger in my veins thins into something colder. I inch closer, and my fingers graze a petal. Near the edge is a small, darkened smear that’s barely visible unless you’re looking at it. A sniff reveals its blood. Fresh enough to stain and faint enough to almost miss. Whoever cared enough to change the roses got cut in the process of doing so.

Stephanie yelled as she looked into the box. "W-what? What's wrong?" Khloe asked before she looked in? There was a rose, a single Rose, but it was unlike any she had ever seen before, it had black petals and was placed in a small puddle of blood. Another thing that was strange about this rose was that it was burning, but a very low burn like at any moment it would go out" And it stunk, real bad. So bad she had to take a step back. Stephanie lifted the rose from the box, "Are you crazy mother? You'll get burnt!" Khloe yelled horrified but was shocked when it didn't hurt her, however, half the petals turned to ash and disappeared into thin air,

The thorns are wet, but it’s not… not water. I drop the rose and look down at my palm, and the smear of blood left behind.

Something about her explanation felt rehearsed, but her smile was so genuine that I couldn't question her further. "Well, thank you. This will look lovely in my office." The next day, Anna appeared again. This time with a blood-red rose, its petals dark and velvety. "The blood rose represents passionate dedication," she announced proudly, handing it to me. "Like how you're dedicated to healing." Again, the words seemed beyond her years. And the flower itself—blood roses were rare and expensive, typically found only in high-ranking pack gardens. "Anna, this is very kind," I said carefully. "But where did you really get these flowers?"

Roberta took my hand in hers and led me inside the room to a table at the corner, beside our children's cribs. There were a bunch of red spotted flowers on the table. As we got close enough to look at them, I noticed that the flowers were actually plain white roses. They had only appeared to be spotted because of the drops of blood that were sprinkled on them. My heart thumped loudly in my chest as I reached out and swiped the blood with my right index finger. I brought it up to my nose and took a huge whiff of it. I searched my mind to discover if the blood smelled familiar to me in any way.

Rose shook her head, seemingly trying to erase whatever it was she saw. “Is it bad?” he cautiously asked to avoid triggering the emotions she was struggling to process. “What did you see?” She looked to the side, finally took a deep breath and whispered, her voice soft as mist, “Blood.” Symon’s stomach dropped. “B- blood?” Her gaze met his again. “Blood. E-Everywhere.” “Whose blood?” Keith fearfully asked from where he was. “Huh…” Terror bulged Rose’s eyes, as if the monstrous thing she saw within her closed eyes was in that very room. “I…”

I consider shouting out for help, picturing Alastaire’s confused expression as he runs into my room to find me clinging to the outside of my window. I’d never live it down. I guess there’s no choice then. Slowly, carefully, I press one hand against the window, and reach out the other towards the wall next to me, trying to grasp the twisting rose branches that cling to the exterior of the house. As I wrap my hand around a stem I feel a jolt of pain, and I pull it back, watching as small droplets of blood red as the roses all around pool in my palm. Roses have thorns. Duh.