Bloodborne Graphic Novels & Stories

“Yes, I have it with me and I'm heading straight to the hospital. I need you to get it cultured for twenty-four hours; I'll be back in my seat the next day, waiting for the results of the blood test.” “Alright, Sir.” Just as he was about to hang up, another call came in. This one sounded like a female voice. A terrified female voice. “Calm down nurse, what's the problem?” 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.”

That memory haunted him and it always would. A lot of shit haunted Gage. Dead bodies didn’t bother him anymore since the first one he saw had been his mother’s. One day she’d been reading him a story and tucking him into bed after Hunter had already gone to sleep and the next day she was in her bathtub, bleeding out as he watched her. ** “Gage … I’m sorry,” she mumbled. Gage stood next to the bathtub and stroked her hair. The blood ran down her arms and mingled with the water. Her nightdress was soaked through and her breathing was shallow. Gage looked into her eyes and kissed her forehead softly.

I just stood there, watching. Amara wasn’t responding. No movement. No sound. After a while, the doctor removed his gloves and turned to face me. “She has low blood sugar,” he said. “Her blood pressure is high, and the dislocation is more serious than we thought.” I stared at him. “So what you’re saying is… she might die?” He didn’t respond fast enough. I reached for the gun on my waist and pulled it. I didn’t aim. I just let him see it properly.

Even though there are laws against it, workplace discrimination still occurs. And violence had gone down, but it wasn't gone. Elara's replacement, a young vampire named Marcus (not Sophie's father), said there had been forty-two attacks in the last year. "Down from hundreds that were expected if we had stayed at war, but still forty-two violent acts aimed at integration efforts." How many people died? "Matthias enquired. Seven. There are two witches and five vampires. Many more were hurt. Millions of dollars worth of damage to property.

Dino’s POV I had never opened those files in many years, not out of secrecy, but because they were covered with excessive blood. They sat on my individual server, and were kept, closed over three layers of clearance, any movement or conversation thereof being neither noticed nor recalled by anyone save the dead. I read them tonight, since the name of Drina was never to be forgotten, and because I felt that silence was beginning to be a crime. The screen was dimly lit in the dark office in which I poured myself a drink that I was not determined to take. The capital of Madrid was extending beyond the glass walls, breathing life, unaware of the ghosts breathing within my empire.

I screamed, my lavender eyes strobing so violently that the overhead lights shattered, raining glass onto my shoulders. "The virus is using the tubes, Gianna!" Vossen shouted back, his hands frantic on the manual overrides. "It’s traveling through the fluid-exchange! It’s trying to infect Julian before the synthesis is complete! If the black blood touches the white blood, they’ll both liquefy in seconds!" I looked at the glass partition. The centrifuge was spinning at a lethal velocity, the clear, golden serum from Julian’s blood beginning to mix with a creeping, oily shadow of black bile flowing back from Nevan’s side.

I grabbed the hem of Felix's shirt, fixed a pitiful expression on my face, and mumbled, "I believe you, Felix." Felix's expression softened as he helped me back to my feet. Taking advantage of the fact that the other wolves' attention was still on us, I retrieved a document from my bag and handed it to Felix. "I accidentally recorded your pup's blood type as AB when I registered his information last time. The truth is, his blood type is O." Felix's face twisted as he snatched the document from me. An eerie silence descended upon the hall. Everyone knew that all the wolves of the Blackrock pack had type-AB blood, making it impossible for a pup with type-O blood to exist in the pack.

“You’re not hurt?” “No.” My voice came out steadier than I felt, which seemed to be the theme of the night. “Not physically.” His jaw ticked — that same tell from the car, except now I understood exactly what it meant. He was furious, and not at me. He crouched down beside Marco, who one of the medics was already working on, pressing gauze against the wound in his shoulder with quick, competent hands. “He’ll live,” the medic said without looking up. “Lucky. Missed the artery by an inch.”

He stepped forward, his massive frame towering over the vampire as he looked down into the folds of the cloak. The Alpha's dark eyes instantly narrowed as he caught the visual markers of the crisis. Brynn’s face was pale, her soft jasmine scent heavily laced with the metallic, intoxicating tang of primordial vampire blood. But what Garick saw first—what caused his wolf instincts to flare with a protective panic—were the thin, smoky purple-and-black tracks of the Blood-born venom still faintly webbing across her collarbone. They were visibly fading, dissolving into her sun-kissed skin as Riheirk’s ancient, healing blood aggressively incinerated the last remnants of the poison from her system.

"It is O positive, your favorite." I smiled at him before extending my hand to collect the blood bag. My orbs turned red once my fang sunk into the bag. My eyelid closed while I savored every drop of the liquid that touched my tongue. It felt like a release from the shackle of bondage I had inserted myself in right from the day we all lost Kate.