Blood On The Leaves Book Novels & Stories

He knew he would inflict more wounds instead of cleaning them. The fourth arrow touched Alex's arm and she sat down. She sat down and cried with her hand on her arm. Blood flowed continuously from her arm. Conard was far away and Alex looked at the weeping blood on the leaves. Drops of blood fell tip to tip, turning the white leaves red. The forest bathed in moonlight presented a terrifying scene. A forest bathed in moonlight falling on tall trees. This moon was not full. The full moon night is very eerie on Alpha.

I open it. A gust of air stirs the dust from the floor, and glowing golden letters rise from the page, swirling gently in front of me. “Found something?” Eva’s already beside me, voice low. I angle the book toward her. “Truth walks behind illusion. The crown is shadowed, but not lost. Blood remembers.” Sonia scrambles down the ladder and peeks over my shoulder. “That matches a line I saw earlier in a book . Something about blood seeing truth.” I look at Eva. Her face has gone a little pale. She whispers, “We’re close.”

I looked at her legs, the blood was slowly gushing out increasing the pain that she had tried to conceal. “How do I help?” I asked mama taking the stance of a man. “Ikem, get water” she replied almost immediately. Ikem took the bucket and set off swiftly then she turned towards me “you will have to control the bleeding” I nodded my head, taking recognition of the task placed on me. “Find an onugbu leaf, cut as much as possible and find a cloth or wrapper.” I surveyed the forest as I found an onugbu tree, I cut off leaves as much as I could then rushed back to mama.

This time, it had me sucking in a sharp breath when I opened it and my eyes widening at the diagrams that I saw. Inside that book was various ways to kill a vampire.

"Your brother said you knew plants. Said you could tell the difference between them." "I... I can't remember everything," she admits, her voice barely above a breath. "Not properly." I rub a hand over my jaw. "Blood of Wolfsbane is wolfsbane fed with our blood. The leaves turn red. It's rare and dangerous. Packs don't grow it openly because of what it can do." I pause, watching her reaction.

“Why didn’t you finish it?” No answer. Just the whisper of the trees and the faint drip of his blood cooling in the dirt. The droplets hissed softly as they hit fallen leaves, dark and almost luminous in the thin wash of moonlight, as if even the forest didn’t quite know what to do with the Devil’s blood.

It really is very, very close to my house. As I squint, I notice something slightly shiny on some leaves on the ground. It takes me a few moments to realize it’s likely blood.

A sharp piece of the broken plate had cut through her hand, and she was bleeding. "Oh Jeez! Poor girl." Chloe muttered, shaking her head. Angel's eyes were glued to the blood that was dripping, unable to take her eyes off it as each drop of blood whispered, "Drink me." Her body burned and longed for the blood, as she hadn’t fed for a while. She waged an internal battle, trying to resist the overwhelming urge to rush towards the injured girl and sink her fangs into her flesh, draining her completely dry.

A puddle of blood began forming on the floor where it seeped out of the bite marks in her neck. Before Eira could do anything, the vampire was in front of her, his veiny hands crushed her wind-pipe, making her choke. She felt her body weakening under the pressure. The leaves, an inner voice whispered. Use them, it said. Her eyes began to drift just as the vampire opened his mouth to flash long canines painted with blood but before he could sink it in her neck, Eira reached into her Jean pocket, answering her instincts and pulled out a few Bloodivy leaves and rubbed them against the vampire's pale face.

Lyra The air hung still, heavy with the scent of blood and ash. The forest, once alive, breathing, pulsing with light, now smoldered in silence. Every leaf was dusted with soot, every branch splintered by the violence that had swept through. My knees trembled beneath me, and I pressed a bloodstained palm against the earth to steady myself. It was warm, humming faintly, as if the ground itself remembered every cry, every drop of blood shed in its name.