Novel & Cerita Blood Song

(BLOOD HOWL) DRIP! DRIP! DRIP! The sound echoes to the entire mansion as silence is imminent and the storm continues to get worse. To the eerie hallway, to the dim corners, the fast-asleep servants, and the long-running time of the peculiar and particular stormy night. A hum slowly is being heard as a song plays and echoes together with the symphony of the music box that does not exist. “Die, die, die, just what should I do?”

My hands were cold, and I stared at the screen again. “It is not his empire,” I said. "This is his bloodline." Footsteps resounded outside the room. The door opened. Dino stood with an unreadable expression. "You found something," he said. I swung around and looked at him a-throbbing. "Yes," I replied. His eyes sharpened. "What did you find, Drina?" I turned back and looked at the screen, and then at the man whose name had plagued all corners of my life. "A ghost," I said. "And it belongs to your family."

The darkest days are always before the morning. The early rain is a sign of dismay. The howling of evil birds filled our creeks on that specific dawn, howling the sound of tragedy innovating an evil omen. We had expected this day, prepared for the way to total decimation, imagined this apocalypto. The early rain fell heavily in our community sending chills into our veins. The splatter of the rain rhymed to the loud cohorts of gunshots. He watched as soldiers tore into our homes, shooting and killing every living creature.

It took a while after she managed to even breathe, “It's Kimberly; we tried everything we could, Gibson. The leukemias already contaminated her white blood cell for a long time and it had weakened her whole body to fight the cancer off. She's dead.” There was a moment of silence. His phone fell off his loosed grip as he stared into blank space; his fingers rushed to undo his first three buttons. He rubbed his hands on his face, feeling stressed; he looked like he was filled with devastation. His eyes welled up with tears. Two veins pulsed by the side of his head as he slammed his hands hard on his wheels. “Fuck!” The voice bounced back in the confinement of his car “Hello, Gibson, hello?”

The thick, dark primordial blood of a century-old vampire welled from the deep cut. "Drink, Brynn," Riheirk commanded, his voice raw and desperate as he pressed his bleeding wrist firmly against her lips. "Drink from me. Let my blood purge the poison. Accept it, sweetheart, please." Brynn’s jade eyes flickered. Driven by her own fading strength and the desperate, triumphant internal screaming of Solar, her jaw parted. She bit down lightly on his wrist, her lips drawing the heavy, white-hot furnace of his primordial blood into her system.

CHAPTER 45 — BLOOD OF MY BLOOD, ASH OF MY ASH (Full-Length | 2,000+ words | High-tension, emotional, brutal, explosive) The ringing in Riven’s ears was a solid, disorienting wall of noise. It swallowed everything—the fire, the collapsing steel, and the echo of the explosion still rippling out into the night. Smoke burnt his lungs as he pushed himself up on shaking arms, coughing hard enough to taste blood.

He added and I nodded and sigh again. “I will kill him with my own hand if he does something bad to Blood.” Third Person POV “F*ck him! F*ck! F*ck that mother f*cking bastard.” Blood keeps on cursing as he is inside of a room of a house believe, where they take him yesterday after his ‘encounter’ with Devren. “I will f*cking kill that mother f*cker!” He said in anger.

I try to say something, but before I can speak I start coughing and Victor helps me, I bend over as blood comes out with each cough. After several times feeling this pressure in my chest and getting weaker each time, I then taste rotten meat and make a greater effort and soon a ball of muscle, blood and hair comes out of me and falls to the ground. "Fuck!" I hear Ishtar's voice. "Some Necromancer has Soren's blood!" As soon as this grotesque thing comes out of me, I can feel Strïth coming back, and his anger is palpable. Then, before I can say anything, I see Ghost start to bend over, bringing his hand to the middle of his chest, the smell of his blood spreading as it starts to drip from his

Someone, probably Baron, left a blood bag on my pillow. I usually don’t drink unknown blood, but I’m starving and the painful thirst reminding me that I haven’t fed yet is driving me insane. I tear the bag open and bring it to my nose. Grimacing and shaking my head, I get up and empty the bag in the bathroom sink. I can smell the human disease in the blood – Typhoid. It won’t harm me, but it makes the blood bitter. I pull on a pair of joggers and a sweater and lie on the soft, comfortable bed, listening to the house settle down and gradually go quiet. The only sound is the footsteps of Baron’s patrolling wolves. No doubt, he has a few wolf guards on Simone’s door.