Blood On The Clocktower Trouble Brewing Novels & Stories

"What?" "Don't hurt Tara. I still need her." I hung up without explaining further. If Ethan was smart enough, he would soon find the clues I left behind. Once he did, that was when the real show would begin. Tara was stashed in an abandoned warehouse. When I arrived, Amber Shaw was there loudly hurling insults at her. She called Tara a homewrecker, a shameless tramp, and worse. Tara was tied to a chair and her pale face was flushed red. When she saw me enter, she glared daggers at me.

In the dark of the night. Over the quiet earth, a dark shadow was approaching unsettlingly toward Tourmaline Estate. On top of the tower of Tourmaline Estate, the guards watched the form of the floating black fog from a distance. A hint of doubt filled their eyes. "Strange, why is there such a big fog?" Just after they had muttered this to themselves, from far away came a bullet which hit one man in his left atrium. He did not even have the time to make a sound before falling to the ground.

Just like yesterday. Borham walks in holding five glasses of water. "Drink up. You must be tired." He smiled like a soldier who had won the war. Henry picked up his flask. "Thanks but we had enough water already." "Oh. My apologies. What would you like to eat?" "Nothing. It's fine. We are okay. Instead, tell us what happened outside. Why is there blood everywhere? And a hand? Why is it a vampire? Borham looked like he was done with Jonathan's nonstop questions.

He remarked, still unmoving in his position. Something about this comment seeming moderately off to Chiri, she had little time to reflect on it as they were soon caught in a tense standoff in the tower. Horus Crouse and Tristan Hurst splitting into different veins amongst the clock’s mechanisms, they gradually began to close in on the man’s location. A crackling heard in the cogs, the electricity Horus had begun to emit tinkered with the links of the chains that dangled between the different platforms and bounced from the rickety wooden boards as they approached. However, an unexpected bolt of lightning escaped from Horus’s control.

“The northern wing! The observation tower! You need to see this—now.” By the time I reached the top floor, the wind was howling through shattered windows. Frost clung to the bricks, forming jagged spikes where warmth had once held. But it wasn’t the ice that made my heart stop. It was the message. Scrawled in a mix of blood and rime, slashed across the stone arch of the tower wall: “The Frost Crown awakens. And the Blood Moon shall burn.” And below it—burned, not written—was my name.

My home was dark, the silence heavy as I poured a glass of whiskey, the burn grounding me. I grabbed a calendar from the counter, my eyes locking on tomorrow’s date, circled in red—the Blood Moon. The frat party. The night they’d try to kill her. My vision flashed again—her heart torn out, blood pooling under that cursed moon. I downed the whiskey, my hand shaking as I set the glass down.

They followed the blood trail, to the living room, then outside, the blood led to a tower of dead bodies, they were bodies of maids and guards. “Miranda!!!” Onora screamed in terror, Miranda body was there, the first body of the tower but the blood trailed to the wall, something was written on it. RED IS YOUR FAVORITES, ISN'T IT?

It was a steel cable woven from trauma and survival. "I can feel you," Tate whispered, tears streaming down her face. "I can feel you both." "We're here," Mathias choked out. "We're not letting go," I promised. The grandfather clock in the hall struck eleven. One hour to midnight. We stood up. We holstered our weapons. We put the crystals in our pockets, close to our hearts. "Let's go kill a monster," I said.