Blood Splatter On Wall Novels & Stories

Nyra walked deeper into the house, through an opening in the back of the room. It led to a small bedroom, nothing remarkable about it, until her eyes fell on the wall. Along its surface were deep gouges. Nyra ran her fingers along them. "These were not made by an animal." Kael looked them over. "No," Ryker said as he entered the room, his gaze fixed on the floor. "What?" Nyra turned to look at Ryker. He was staring at a dark stain on the floor. "Blood." Kael crouched down beside it.

His entire being was radiating darkness and decay. I watched as he violently pushed a woman away. His face contorted uncontrollably with anger. I frowned slightly. Clearly, it was not just his demeanor that had changed. However, none of it compared to the shock of looking at someone who had my face. At first glance, it was terrifying. Upon closer inspection, though, the resemblance was not perfect. Perhaps the plastic surgery had gone too far. Her features were swollen and unnaturally smooth, and even the heavy makeup could not hide the fine scars at the corners of her eyes.

The blood is splashed all over Murphy’s shirt, pooling on the floor around him and even splattered on the wall behind him in a pattern that instantly makes my stomach knot. Also, from the way his pale skin looks, he has definitely been dead for hours. Maybe even longer. “This is a crime scene now,” Liam says quietly. “We should be careful.” And he is right. I force myself to look away from the dead body and search the rest of the room. Right then, my eyes land straight on the wall opposite Murphy’s body. I nearly gasp. On the wall, a message is written in blood, definitely Murphy’s blood. And the message reads:

The air felt wrong — heavy, charged, like someone was still here. Watching. Waiting. I scanned the room again. Nothing. No movement. No sound. No shadow shifting in the corner. But the blood… It wasn’t pooled. It wasn’t smeared. It wasn’t splattered. It was placed. A single drop. Then another. Then another. Leading to the far wall. I walked toward it, gun raised. The wall looked solid — old wood, peeling paint, nothing unusual. But the blood trail ended right at the baseboard.

As they all were frightened, covering their mouths, and were sweating heavily, the monster was walking slowly down in the middle of the street. "!!!" All of them were being careful not to make any movements that would cause loud noises that will likely attract the monster to them. But as the monster was passing by, a small kid, just sitting next to them and being quiet the whole time, accidentally got the bottle next to him to fall on the floor. Everyone was quiet for a moment. "Shit!" A loud bang coming from the outside was heard. They all thought the monster had noticed them, but when they looked outside the monster was laying on the ground with its head all gone.

Blood splatter on my shirt and on the walls. The next man attempted to raise his weapon, but I was too quick. I grabbed the gun to my side and fire all the shots in it until it was out. I grabbed him by the neck pushing him to the wall, I feel a hit on my back. It’s a baseball bat crushing on my shoulders. I slam the man’s head to the wall giving me enough time to face my new opponent who couldn’t wait for his turn. He raised the bat at me and I grabbed it by the edge, I twist and his right arm follows with it. I kick him in the balls and he fall on his knees to the ground. A cry escaped his lips.

Empty in the way that spaces went empty after people, not the emptiness of a place that had just never been occupied. What remained of what had occurred occupied the main room. A chair on its side by the centre of the floor. Maddie’s speaker turned face down against the far wall, casing broken. Her phone was a two-piece thing by the baseboard, the screen broken in that way that resulted from impact at speed as opposed to just dropping something. Tested or stricken hard from her hand. I looked for blood all over every surface. Floors, walls, counters, door frames. Nothing. I checked twice.

Something drips after a sudden splatter and I wipe my hand across my face, blinking my eyes open. Blood. Red and ozzing, falls atop me and I jump when something falls just to the side of where I laid.

My vision blurred as I sat there, stunned, my eyes wandering aimlessly around the room. That’s when I saw it—a thick, red stain I hadn’t noticed before, smeared across the floor. My breath caught as I spotted another, further ahead. Slowly, I followed the trail of red droplets, each one pulling me closer to the bathroom. The mirror on the wall was shattered, with a trail of blood on it. My heart skipped and I went pale, cold sweats broke out of my face as I gazed intently at the mirror, there was a fresh splash of blood on the wall behind me.

He hadn't stopped. My breath hitched, a sharp, shaky sound that broke the heavy, suffocating silence of the room, cutting through the oppressive stillness that clung to everything. A fresh wave of nausea rolled through me. I turned my head to the side, slowly, painfully, and that’s when my gaze landed on it. The blood. Stark against the once-pristine white sheets, a violent splash of crimson, an undeniable, horrifying stain. It was everywhere, smeared and streaked, a brutal, cruel testament to everything that had happened, to everything he had taken.