Blood On My Hands Book Novels & Stories

IRENE I don’t think I had seen that much blood ever in my life, it looked like it was everywhere. It felt so warm and sticky at the same time and looked so dark red it would have made an excellent color for a red wine if it had been placed in a glass, but then it wasn’t in a glass, it was right there all over the floor board where I knelt and now as I looked at my hands I could see it had covered it to the extent I could not see the lines on my palms anymore.

I wrapped my arms around myself, my heart thundering in my chest. And then, I saw it. My hands. They were covered in blood. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. "Whose... Whose blood is this?" I whispered, barely recognizing the trembling voice that escaped my lips. My hands trembled as I stared at them, the dark, sticky red coating my skin, staining it. The blood looked fresh. Too fresh. My chest tightened, fear clawing its way up my throat. I couldn't think straight. Was it my blood? Someone else's? The questions hammered in my mind, but I had no answers.

Fear making him brave in the specific stupid way that fear does. She looks at him for a moment. Then at me. Something passes between us — not a question, not a request. Just information. Your turn for a moment. I push off the worktable. I cross to Caruso slowly, the way I cross to everything I've decided to deal with, and I take his right hand — zip-tied to the chair arm, fingers splayed — and I look at it the way I look at structural problems. Practically. Dispassionately.

Maybe seeing me this way would turn him off, maybe then he would see me for the monster I was and finally give up this pathetic fantasy. Instead, he came closer to me seemingly unfazed, reaching his hand towards my face. I stood there unmoving and without stopping him like my head was telling me to, curious to what his intentions were. My eyes narrowed instinctively as his fingers caressed my chin moving slightly in an upward motion. The familiar tingle followed his movements. I realized he was wiping some blood away that had dripped from my mouth. His fingers lingered on my lips as I watched his eyes glow with intensity and I imagined he was witnessing mine darkening at the same time. I gra

Chapter 24 Davina I wiped my hands on my face as I was feeling quite tensed and sweaty. My hands on my face did nothing to ease the droplets running down my face so I rubbed them on my forehead again. As I dropped my hands, I caught a glimpse of blood smeared on my palm and it set my heart pounding faster than I think it has ever beaten. What’s this? I glanced down at myself and saw that I was covered in blood like I had a blood bath and I stepped back, falling to my knees as I splayed my hands in front of me.

“They were words written in this book before, but they disappeared. It is said that it is only your blood that can make the words appear again. I want you to let your blood make it appear" "Alright. Hold the book firmly with your two hands”. I did as Jade instructed, I held the book with my two hands. I watched her bleed herself. Her nails elongated and she came forward, she stretched her two hands to get the book, immediately her hands touched the book, her nails dug into my flesh and I felt dizzy at once, before I could register anything that was happening I passed out.

She wiped it away and it felt thick and sticky against the back of her hand. Curious, Amber held her hands out in front of her and saw the blood. It was everywhere. She was covered in it. The light of the candle danced across it reflecting it around her mind. It shouldn’t feel real but it did. She frantically wiped her hands across the front of her shit in a desperate attempt to free herself of the horrible sensation.

Clara sighed and decided that maybe she could fix its bindings before returning them. She picked up the loosened page, and unlike the burnt one which she had read last night, this one did really belong to the book. And there she found an almost faded sketch of a gilded hand with fingers that were slender and nails that looked more like claws. It seemed to be holding a heart, dripping blood collected into a pool beneath it.

Sylvia knit her eyebrows tightly but did not answer. He stared at her coldly. “I’ll ask you again, where did the blood on this come from?” Sylvia assumed that Odell thought she had done something wrong, so she replied, “It’s my blood.” Odell immediately grabbed her hands to take a look. On her hands which were full of calluses, he could see two freshly-healed wounds. One was on the back of her right hand, and the other was on the fingertip of her left hand’s index finger.

to them now after what I saw. You can do it, Leslie. Step up. One leg, then the other. I follow my conscience's instructions and slowly get up from the floor. My ears funnel an annoying ringing that only worsens when I stand and let the blood circulate throughout my whole body again. My hands shake uncontrollably; my fingers have little splatters of blood—Alejandro's blood. Quickly, I head to the bathroom and wash my hands. I wash them with scalding hot water and with an excessively dripping amount of soap. I scrub my hands, watching the suds gather in the sink bowl, and I continue washing my hands until they're blotchy, swollen and red, similar to my face right now.