Bloodborne Picture Novels & Stories

He took a little breath before answering, “OliviasCrypt.” “Stupid,” Ted muttered. “What?” Zane asked. She shook her head. “They’re on one of my lists. Send me what you have now, Shotz.” “Coming your way.” We all waited to keep from distracting him. “Got it,” Ted said. “Does transformation infarction have anything to do with thin blood?” I asked the others. “It can,” Alicia said. “Troubles with transformations have many causes, but yes, people with leukemia and other blood illnesses tend to avoid transforming outside emergencies. Why?”

“No ma’am, but the picture you’ve painted so far. Severely infected wounds with no immune system to fight it off with. I’ve gone septic haven’t I?” “Yes, the infection has made its way into your blood but my concern in addition to the septicemia is the silver. That’s why I need to do another read. The way the silver feels is confusing, it doesn’t make any sense to me. I can feel the burn on your leg, your left thigh specifically. It’s not visible because the shorts you’re wearing come down to your knees but it’s a large source of the pain you’re in as well as the main source of infection. I felt a lot of silver there which tells me that it’s a burn coming from silver, for it to be deeply inf

He swung his hand and directed his dark blue supernatural power towards the so-called unnecessary space between the womanhood symbol and the red orpiment picture with a thick cross on it. The hidden picture was clearly visible in front of all of them at this moment. All the people in the dining room were seen looking at that hidden picture engraved on the gigantic stone with their considerable awe as well as amazement. That hidden picture turned out to be a picture of three drops of blood. “It turns out to be three drops of blood...” sighed Sugar Aquarius.

Gabrielle said fearfully. “I know, I know, but the only viable way to find some sort of cure using my blood is that way,” I said confidently. "I could verify that what Daemon said was true, and like it or not, having an infected person in the lab would be a good thing. Or at the very least, blood and dead tissue samples." “You're really serious,” Gabrielle said incredulously. "I don't want to sound stale, but you have to think about the baby you're carrying in your belly. Exposing yourself like that to silk sickness is dangerous."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Cassandra walked in her laboratory, carrying a vial of blood. She approached her microscope, brought the small light closer and used a dropper to lay a blood drop onto the transparent glass. She sat there, looking into the device, adjusting it till she saw the blood cells clearly. She tore a piece of paper, jotting down her observation. This wasn’t good. Hepatitis B. She clipped it to her patient’s file and walked out, “Charles, make a call to Ms. Isabella Scoffield and direct it to my office. It’s urgent.”

The doctor ran her eyes around the lab looking for someone to help her, and huffed. -When I don't need help, there's a lot of people around me, bothering me, and now, when I really need there's no one -she grumbled as she stood up and went to the 'cooler'-a kind of refrigerator specific to store blood- and took a vial of human blood, another one with vampire blood, another one with wolf blood and another one with blood altered by the drug DroPaCem and took them with her to the microscope.

Mango's heart couldn't help but skip a beat when she heard Nathaniel's question. Is there really something wrong with me? "Harris looked at them and whispered, ""Yes, your blood is a little abnormal. Bettany is an expert in this area. Take a look.""" "Bettany took the data and glanced at it. She quickly exchanged a look with Nathaniel and whispered, ""I need to channel out her blood as soon as possible. This thing is contagious.""" What is it?

Ironic. The thought dragged a dry, humorless laugh from my throat. It echoed in the sterile silence of my office, a place that smelled of lemon polish and an underlying decay. My vision was now swimming on the edge of a crimson haze, each blink more laborious than the last. My hands trembled uncontrollably, and I curled them into fists, nails digging into my palms—useless pain that did nothing to steady me. Then it hit me: Bloodmatch. The name pressed against my consciousness like a shadow that refused to lift, a curse and a promise all at once—dangerous, illicit, irresistibly seductive.

She pulled up data on a portable display. "Your preliminary blood work shows some concerning results," Vasquez continued. "Your red blood cell count is significantly depleted. Your hemoglobin levels are very low. Your platelet count is slightly elevated, which suggests your body is trying to compensate for the blood loss. Your Strain concentration is at 99.98% purity." She looked directly at Melina. "The extraction process has accelerated your Strain expression beyond even our most pessimistic projections," Vasquez said. "Your blood is now lethal at trace exposure levels. Even a single drop of your blood in an open wound could cause system failure in a supernatural being."

Her little hands were curled into fists on top of the blankets. I knelt beside the bed. I reached out and touched her forehead. It was burning hot. Her wolf was so weak that I could barely sense it. A tiny, flickering spark deep inside her. Like a candle flame in a storm. It was dying. Slowly. Quietly. It was almost gone. My throat tightened. My eyes burned. This was what the blood sickness did. It stole children. It took them piece by piece until there was nothing left. "Mira," I whispered. "Can you hear me?"