Blood On The Clocktower Trouble Brewing Novels & Stories

There’s a spilled glass of juice on the counter next to her, but she doesn’t seem to notice it. “Hey there Pocket? Y-you okay? Why are you up this late?” I tilt my head, trying to see her better. “Go away,” she bawls without turning around. I creep around the island and flip the switch that turns on the under cabinet lights. As they flicker on, I see Zara standing in a dark crimson pool of blood. She’s holding a carving knife in one hand with blood streaming down her opposite arm. A shiver goes down my spine at the sight.

Blood seeped through the fabric, warm against my shaking hands. I swallowed hard. “Okay. First step: stop bleeding. Second step: don’t panic. Third step: find magical vampire first-aid kit.” A drawer slid open with a loud shunk. I yelped. “BRENDA! That is NOT helping!” Inside the drawer sat a crystal bottle full of thick dark liquid. I stared. I blinked. I stared again. “…Is that blood?” The lights flickered once. Yes. “Is it vintage? Like… does blood expire?”

I breathed the fresh air, while the blood on my face and hands dried hard like layers. “ Fuck, I look nasty, I smell of blood and death. Should I bother myself into taking bath in public bathroom?” I cussed, wipin off the thick blood from my lip’s corners. Lifting my arm, I noticed the time on my wristwatch. It was already midnight and I think Erick safely returned back to the mansion. Walking towards my car, I heard sirens of corp’s cars heading towards the redlight area. I think someone from the customer’s group was informed about the assassination.

The code burned in my memory, and as long as I was breathing, the Director's entire operation was a ticking clock. *God, my head hurts. The drug... it’s still in my blood. It feels like swallowed lead.* I slammed my good shoulder against the turn in the tunnel, using the momentum to keep myself upright as my knees buckled. Blood was pooling inside my left sleeve, hot and sticky against my skin, running down my knuckles to drip steady red dots onto the floor. "She went up the east service stair!" a voice roared through a ventilation duct above me. "Cover the upper perimeter! Shoot to cripple!"

He drove his remaining hand into the gap between the rotating iron gears using his digital density to jam the internal clockwork. A spectacular explosion of silver data sparks and fractured text blocks erupted from the machinery, setting the layers of newsprint on fire. The flames were a brilliant indigo blue that smelled of copper and human blood. The central column groaned, the iron gears stripping their teeth with a metallic screech. ALERT: CORE_STRUCTURAL_FAILURE. UNBOUND_AUTHOR_INTERFERING_WITH_THE_SPINE. INITIATING_EMERGENCY_TRIM. Above them, the sky-sized iron period accelerated its descent, the multi-ton block plunging down through the remaining air, like a falling anvil. The shadow

Blood from my nose had run past my lips and chin, smearing across my cheeks and ears. The front of my shirt had long since lost its original color. It was soaked through with blood. The pool beneath me had spread to Derrick’s shoes, sticky and dark. “Harriet?” Derrick’s voice trembled. He called my name again. “Harriet?” Mom had been celebrating Sheila’s safe return. When she saw Derrick storm toward the storage room, she followed him. The sight before her made her scream. She covered her mouth and staggered back a step. Dad had been comforting the frightened Sheila. After hearing the commotion, he rushed over as well.

The building was falling, but the air in his lungs still tasted like ash. "F**k," he hissed, slamming his palm against the window frame. The wood splintered, a tiny sliver of oak driving into his skin. He didn't pull it out. He just watched the blood well up, a dark bead against the pale flesh. The tower’s spine snapped an hour later. The central column buckled, the top twelve floors pancaking into the middle. A cloud of grey dust erupted, swallowing the street, turning the midday sun into a dim, orange ghost.

During my three-year-old son's preschool physical, his blood type didn't match mine or my wife's. I had just printed the divorce papers when I suddenly heard my son's voice. [This disgusting man is so stupid. He's raised me, his own little brother, as his son for years and still has no idea!] [Lol, hurry up and get divorced. Once they divorce, I can cling openly to my real mom!] [And divorced men are unwanted anyway. From now on, every dollar he earns will be mine!] My wife was still anxiously explaining, "Honey! I really never betrayed you! Do you really want a divorce?" I looked at my son's tightly closed lips and excited eyes, then tore up the divorce papers instead. "No divorce. S

Prince Evan butt in. "The mountain spirit said there's a bordello in the small community beyond this forest. There, we will find a man named Orion. We can ask him about a wine called Blood of the Wise. That is what we need to please the magical healer." "But wait. Bordello?" My brows furrowed when I realized what word was used. "Oh. Sounds like a good place." Prince Evan smirked. He exactly knows what to expect in that kind of place. Probably because he's a regular or what.

“It’s worth a try. Maybe my blood is worthy. After all, it did unlock Muxue Yan’s bonds.” Hoko’s face turned white as a sheet upon hearing Xiyu’s words, and he clenched his fist behind his back, shivering as the couple faced each other. Using Xiyu’s ice dagger, Dongyue made a sharp cut on his hand and Xiyu’s, allowing the blood to trickle down the hole of the platform. Xiyu heard his prayers loud and clear. “Bodhisattva, grant me strength.” She heard the sound a chilly wind emerge from somewhere in the room, gradually getting louder and closer as the lights surrounding the platform lit up in a myriad of varying colours. No longer purple, she counted seven different colours.