Blood Splatter On Wall Novels & Stories

, Mark questioned himself. The mixed emotions gave him anxiety. Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he picked up his fists and pounded it against the tiled wall. He continued until his fists were bleeding. Jessica burst through the door, looking at a disreveled Mark. The blood oozing from his knuckles and dropping onto the white floor. The washroom looked like a murder had taken place. There was blood splatted on every wall, the ceiling and the floor. Grabbing a bunch of paper towels from the sinks she held them against Mark's hands. Applying pressure to stop the bleeding but the blood seeped through.

It was a crime scene. The living room was torn apart. My couch cushions slashed open, white stuffing spilling like guts onto the floor. My lamp was knocked over, glass shattered everywhere, twinkling under the dim light like cruel little stars. Drawers yanked out and left spilling their contents. My picture frames broken. Clothes ripped from their hangers and thrown across the floor. It smelled like dust, sweat, and something metallic that made me gag. And then I saw it. The wall. Red paint, thick and dripping, smeared across the pale surface like blood. The letters were jagged, violent, rushed, and yet deliberate, every word screaming at me.

A distant call resonated through my mind but like everything else, it fell into the cacophony of noise and drifted off to an incoherent noise. I'd left her lying there, on the bed. I blinked and the image of her wrapped in covers came to me but as I blinked again the horror I was in confronted me. There was blood everywhere. The walls were splattered with it like a macabre piece of amateur art. The flooring was dotted with it, a clear sign of Rose fighting back. Her claw marks were accompanied with splatters of red, as if the person had been clawing or cutting into her as they dragged her.

Splintered wood. And beneath it Cora. Her scent filled the air. But something about it was wrong. Disturbed. My pulse exploded. By the time I reached the living room, the fighting was already over. And the damage was everywhere. The tall windows had been blown inward. Shards of glass glittered across the floor like frozen rain. Furniture had been overturned. Deep claw marks gouged the wooden boards. Two guards struggled to stand. Another leaned against the wall, clutching a bleeding shoulder.

Intrigued despite her wariness, Gloria took a tentative step closer to get a better listen, straining her ears as Lukas murmured the name again in his drowsy state. Unfortunately, she still couldn't quite make out the exact name he was whispering—his voice was too muffled and slurred by sleep—but it was unmistakably a person's name, repeated with insistent rhythm, echoing some unresolved emotion. As Gloria observed the "sleeping lion" before her, her attention was suddenly drawn to something alarming on the wall directly behind the sofa. It was cracked severely, with jagged fissures spiderwebbing outward, and dark splatters of dried blood staining the pristine surface like macabre abstract a

"Please.” We went down, carefully stepping around the wreckage that no one had yet to clean up. In the light of day, the destruction appeared to be more severe., The damage looked worse in the daylight." Cracks, spider-webbed across the wall where I had thrown that intruder. The dining table was tipped over, one leg clean broken off. There were shattered picture frames with glass on our feet. Mom was already in the kitchen scrubbing blood from the countertop with paper towels and bleach.

Chapter 53 Location: red blood pack Caroline's POV More blood spill abd drop from spines abd back head of the half conscious guards. His every flowing and yet healing blood injury stains heavily my perfectly painted wall. The floor tikes not exempted. His dumb blood also ruins it's perfect and great appearance. How annoying. But I though am less bothered. Am unconcerned over the royal cottages bloody appearance nor the guards continous and non stop bleed soften my heart region.

Aria Darren collided with me, knocking me to the floor before I could even comprehend the sound of the gunshot or the screams. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs, but I barely registered it. All I could focus on now was the sting on my cheek, the warmth of the fresh blood that was now trickling down my skin. Had I been hit? My fingers fluttered across the stinging sensation on my cheek, my eyes widening as they came away red. Then, I turned my head to see the crack in the wall, the silver bullet embedded in the ornate wallpaper.

Cracks spidered out, and chunks of white plaster fell to the floor. Excitement rippled through the group. They'd found a way in. They struck harder. On the second blow came a sharp metallic clang, and the man screamed. His hammer clattered to the floor as he staggered back and fell. Blood streamed from deep gashes across both hands. The wounds froze quickly in the cold, turning gruesome. "What happened?" voices shouted. They scraped away the rest of the plaster, and when the surface cleared, jaws dropped. "The wall's steel too!"

"Bang!" The bullet flew like a bamboo arrow, pinned to the wall in front of them, just a few feet away from the two. The blue stone on the wall was like a glass panel hit hard by a hammer, instantly shattered, and the debris fell to the ground. The whole process was in a split second. Uri could only gasp and roll his eyes in amazement. "Get out!" Alex's voice was cold.