Bloodshot Dc Novels & Stories

ISLA The shelter clinic smells like blood and antiseptic. I've been working for six hours straight. Treating the wounded from the blood club rescue. Danny's on the cot nearest me. Shoulder wound from silver bullet. I've extracted the bullet, cleaned the wound, stitched it closed. But silver poisoning is spreading. His healing is suppressed. "How bad?" he asks. "Bad. You'll live but recovery takes weeks." I wrap the bandage. "No combat for at least a month."

The other option was that whoever fired the rifle wasn't experienced, hence the minor wound to their target but still didn't explain why the rifle was left. Lucas moved slowly, eyes dancing over the snow. Something else happened to make the shooter drop their weapon, but what? It was still unclear until he spotted where the blanket of ice had been disturbed. The way it was stamped down and cut up told of the struggle that had happened. Tiny red droplets marred the perfect whiteness like rubies on a blanket. The blood had frozen from the temperature. Gradually they grew bigger until they came to an end at a patch of smeared blood. Lucas crouched down onto his haunches, gloved finger tracing a

That this flight wasn’t some nightmare too vivid to be real. This wound was real. Dreams didn’t put holes through a person’s thigh. She let her head fall back against the tree and stared up at the canopy. November’s stripped branches carved jagged silhouettes against a sky suspended between black and blue—the exact shade of someone caught at a crossroads. Her consciousness had started going cotton. Light, fraying at the edges—textbook blood loss, recalled from a first aid class she’d spent critiquing the city’s ambulance GPS routing. But enough logic remained to tell her one thing: stop moving.

I lifted my eyelids and tried to focus on Jinx shaking his head and mumbling about something not being good. "The beast infected Noah's shadow wolf's blood. It's going to alter his DNA and mind and hopefully not cause his darkness to overrun him," Dagon murmured in regret. I looked up at him and said no. My eyes closed and I must have fainted. I woke up again sometime later with an IV in my arm and gold blood flowing within it. I sat up and glanced around the pack room in my lodge that still stood. The blood was bagged and not from a living source. I yelled out and a lovely woman came in. I recalled that her name was Sara. She came in and started to remove the needle from my arm.

"Senior, will Darryl have any side effects after he exchanges blood with Dax?" Divine Farmer laughed when he knew Debra was worried about Darryl. He said, "Don't worry. Darryl has protection from the Red Lotus Fayette. Taking a little blood will not hurt him. After the transfusion, he will still be energetic. It won't ruin the plan you guys have for tonight." Chester and the disciples burst out in laughter. The way they looked at Darryl and Debra changed. Everyone knew the relationship between Darryl and Debra, but no one ever hinted at something so lustful. Furthermore, they had no idea Divine Farmer was such a witty individual.

『.*+ •ᴄʜᴀᴘ. ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ+ •*.』 SCARLETT GROWLED AS HER OCEANIC EYES WERE ENGULFED INTO BLOODSHOT FIERY RED ORBS.

“That sealed zone beneath Valenfort? The site of the Great Massacre?” “Yes. If I want to understand what the Black Blood truly is, I have to go where it began.” --- Below, Aster Crowe was surrounded by the Silver Hounds. He looked up toward the rooftop where Evelyn had vanished. A silver bullet tore through his shoulder, blood splattered, glowing neither red nor black, but pale blue silver. He dropped to one knee, smiling faintly through the pain. “She’s like me… but she still has hope.” Then, with a calm motion, he pressed a switch on his belt. A sphere of light blossomed and the lower floors detonated in a blinding white wave.

Her tears soaked Darren's shoulder as he carried her away, his grip unyielding, fueled by a possessive determination. Blood had welled up from a deep gash on Stanley's cheekbone, flowing in a rivulet down the side of his face. The crimson liquid painted a stark contrast against his pale skin, creating a grotesque tableau of violence and pain. The wound oozed with an intensity that matched the anger pulsating within Darren, a testament to the ferocity with which he had struck his rival.

...Darius POV... I touched the ground around where Wynter was. I needed to figure out what had happened. I could tell from the strong scent in the air that she was here. Not only that, but she was afraid. I felt absolutely helpless. Almost as if my body was possessed, I could feel my hand go to the base of the tree. My eyes ran to the back of my head as images started to unfold in my mind. I could see Wynter running for her life. She'd been shot multiple times and had recently shifted out of her wolf form. Her perfect body was covered in blood and bullet holes. But from the looks of her injuries, these were basic bullets that she had been shot with. I could see black veins rung through her b

A thin layer of frost covered her brows and eyelashes, making her look like a sleeping ice fairy. Jack reached out, his hand trembling, unable to touch her. He could feel the chill emanating from her body, freezing the surrounding air. “Alcatel…” Jack’s voice was hoarse with extreme pain, “12 hours…we won’t even reach the center of the Pacific!” “Boss…” a weak voice came. Victor lay on another bed, Marcus treating the gunshot wound in his shoulder. “Old Scar’s” mercenaries used “Silver Core” bullets, specifically designed to deal with supernatural beings.