Bloodborne Doll And Hunter Novels & Stories

Blood from my nose had run past my lips and chin, smearing across my cheeks and ears. The front of my shirt had long since lost its original color. It was soaked through with blood. The pool beneath me had spread to Derrick’s shoes, sticky and dark. “Harriet?” Derrick’s voice trembled. He called my name again. “Harriet?” Mom had been celebrating Sheila’s safe return. When she saw Derrick storm toward the storage room, she followed him. The sight before her made her scream. She covered her mouth and staggered back a step. Dad had been comforting the frightened Sheila. After hearing the commotion, he rushed over as well.

He clutched his coat and threw him on the ground with full force. “GET AWAY FROM HIM!!” He shouted and dashed to Dylan who had fainted. Hunter was still held to the ground but no sooner Dylan fainted, his blood transformed to molten lava. He turned his furious gaze to that man who had him pinned to the ground. His eyes were fixated on the duo who was engrossed in a scuffle and thus, Hunter took advantage. Coiling his fingers around the rifle, he jerked him away. The cop was taken him off guard but before he could defend him, Hunter shoved the nozzle on his chest and pushed him away.

"Mommy! Mommy!" I grab him by the collar, pulling him back against my ribs while throwing my arm out to block Liora's view as she runs out of the washroom. "Liora, stay back!" I look into the open leather chest, and my stomach violently turns. Inside lies a hand-carved wooden doll of an Alpha pup, its stomach crudely sliced open and stitched together with rusted iron wire, its chest hollowed out and filled with rotting, dried blood. The glass eyes have been gouged from its sockets, leaving gaping, hollow black holes stared straight up at the ceiling, and fixed around its neck is a iron choker bearing the stamped crest of the Nightbane bloodline.

He was looking at a predator. Elara pulled the knife out. Her hands were covered in red. "Status Update," the melodic voice hummed in her earpiece. "Level 1 Hunter neutralized. Bonus multiplier active. Probability of survival: 18%." The Hunter slumped against the trash bags, gasping, his hands pressed to the wound. He wasn't dead—the Renaissance "Hunters" were wearing specialized trauma-gel layers—but he was out of the game. Elara stood over him, her chest heaving. She looked at the blood on the silver wolf. She should have felt sick. She should have been screaming.

His brow was also relaxed and dent free. The hunter shut his eyelids and listened for the quiet footsteps, knowing that only one group of creatures could walk into a room without making a sound. Then last second, Ben's eyelids snapped open once more. "DUCK!" He yelled to his mate. May yelped and instantly placed her head on the mattress. Ben turned around and pulled the trigger, blasting a deadly shell into the white naked chest of a vampire who attempted to penetrate the bedroom through the window. The vampire howled, a hole blasting through his ribs, as his figure flew backwards along with the million shards of glass from the window.

"Keep it steady!" I regained my footing between the bags, aimed, then took another two shots. One hit his upper arm, the other his shoulder, but he kept coming, unfazed by the gushing holes. I shifted my weight onto my other foot and grinned. I might not have stopped him, but the Thornblood dipped bullets had punctured him, binding shade and host to the same satisfying fate. I fired one last time, hitting him strait between his soulless eyes.

I was too curious to remember that I was supposed to be unconscious. As soon as we made it to the ring, we saw the many, many fans all looking shocked, horrified, excited, and downright terrified. Soon I found out why as well. Haydon was standing over a dead Troll. His long-elongated claws and fangs were covered in thick blood. His eyes were bright red instead of hazel. He had this rabid look. I could hardly even recognise him. Honestly, he looked like one of those vampire-monsters that you would see in those horror movies...only Haydon looked even more attractive in this state... That was not the point though.

I noticed the areas infested with worms and dug my claws into them, making his body recoil violently. Enraged, Hunter roared. I placed Rigan in a corner near a rock and launched myself back into direct combat. The sounds of battle echoed through the clearing. I roared again when I saw Hunter try to rush toward the pup. I positioned myself as a shield, but his poisoned claws plunged into my abdomen. Roaring in pain, I grabbed his hand, holding it in place, and with a brutal strike, I drove my fist into his chest, tearing open a hole in his rotting, half-decayed flesh. I ripped out Dante’s heart—the body possessed by Hunter.

Eljo heard screams and saw that people were running out of the compound. Vampires won’t go near a hunter as they know that besides drinking to death or being burnt to death by fire or daylight, a hunter can kill them as well. A hunter, when their sense was activated, can penetrate a vampire's skin. All the hunters have to do was punch a hole in the place where the vampire's heart used to be and leave a single strand of their own hair; or any part of their body, but a strand of hair was the obvious choice. A single strand of hunter's hair in the place where a vampire’s heart used to be before it turned to ash, blows up vampire-like fireworks unless they were born Vampires like some Prehistori

Mario halted abruptly and looked at Calogero. “Born in blood. Sworn in blood. You enter alive, you leave dead!” He spat and shot Calogero. He walked out of the room with his soldiers without looking back after wiping out a whole family of five. There is a cough in the serene room of the dead…