Bloodstained Apples Novels & Stories

The light was fading quickly, casting long shadows between the trees. Our search didn’t take long. In the distance, a lone apple tree stood, its branches bearing a few pieces of fruit. I approached and quickly counted. Five apples. Three were ripe, their skin glowing a deep red under the dimming light. The other two were smaller, still a bit green. I took them all anyway. “Let’s go home, Wolfie.” With the apples in hand, we ran back through the underbrush, dodging low branches and fallen logs, guided only by instinct and habit. The sky was nearly dark when we reached the stables again.

I ferociously shoved him and continued on drinking my mother's blood to the last drop. “What has befall of you, my son...? What has the devil bestowed on you? No, you are no longer my son! You are a monster!” My father cried as he tried to straighten his bruised body from the hard fall. I stared at him and then at my lifeless mother in horror as my thirst was finally quenched. I moved away only to be terrified yet again to see my horrendous appearance in the mirror that was hanging on the wall, facing me. My skin was as pale as the ghost, my eyes were bloodshot, and I could see fangs extended from my upper lip with fresh blood dripping on my mouth. ====####====

Her face was ornamented with a glittery black mask that can only be worn during a lavish soiree. “You have done well to enrage them. Now that they are in anger towards another, we can now use them as mere pawns. Thanks to that enchanted sand you blew towards the. They definitely didn’t know that it can cause chaos to one another....” “What is that sand actually, Mistress of Blood?” She smirked, showing her shiny white teeth to the handsome man. “Those were from the leaves of the tree of the real-life Apple of Discord.” “Apple of Discord? Like the one in Greek Mythology that caused the Trojan War?”

Aria’s breath caught in her throat. The woman’s mouth opened and a low sound gurgled out — not words. Not a scream. Something wet and slow, like she was drowning on dry land. Then came the blood. Thick and dark. It poured from her lips like it had been waiting, sliding down her chin in a slow, steady stream. Someone gasped behind Aria. “Oh my god,” a man said softly. A vendor dropped a box of apples. They hit the pavement with soft, wet thuds.

Elizabeth called him and tried to turn around, but when she saw the things in front of James, she suddenly paused. James felt angry and wanted to lose his temper, but he smiled when he saw that Elizabeth had woken up, "Honey, are you awake?" "What... are you doing?" Elizabeth stared straight at the mess in front of him, "Can you eat all of them?" James was sitting on the sofa in the room. On the simple tea table in front of him, there were more than a dozen peeled apples. The apple on the edge of the table might have been peeled for a long time, and its color was a little dark. In front of the row of apples, there was a pile of apple parings, but all of them were small pieces of apple flesh.

Well, we're just the same. We should be strong for each other, but I can't, I can't move on from what happened, I don't know how to rise up from falling because I can't teach myself to get up, everyone has already moved on from my fall, yet here I am, lying on the ground and still can't make a single step to remove myself in the same situation that I've been in my whole life. I can't get up to the mud that I stumbled to and it's slowly eating me and taking over my body. I heard someone entering my room, this time, he already knocked to let me know that he's back. He arrived holding a glass of blood and a plate full of fruit. Those foods... I hate that.

“You think a bastard can rule over me?” The girl lets out a terrified sob, her shoulder twitching just an inch to the left. I fire. BANG!!! I blink through the smoke, expecting to see the shattered fragments of the apple raining down on the floor. But the fruit is rolling away, completely intact. The girl is silent. The bullet missed the apple entirely, tearing straight through the center of her forehead. Her eyes remain wide, frozen in permanent shock as her body goes completely limp, sliding down the brick wall like a broken doll before collapsing into a bloody heap on the floor.

I deadpanned menacingly, "I am sliding the apples your way. Grab them if you want them or let them roll away if you don't." Lowering an apple, I slid it across the floor and watched closely for its fate. All of a sudden, my heart lurched into my throat as I saw a big, meaty hand coming out of the bars. Thick veins bobbed up his dirty hands. Even after regular starvation, he appeared to be bulky and masculine. His long nails lowered and wrapped around the apple before it vanished into the cell. Exhaling heavily, I rolled the next three apples and watched with the same curiosity as he picked them all. I waited for the thanks but all I got was an eerie silence.

A line not meant to be crossed without bleeding for it. The snow beyond wasn’t truly snow anymore. It wore a skin of frost, yes—but underneath, something glistened wrong. Not with reflections, but refractions. The light bent through it as if what lay beneath remembered blood. Then the scent hit. Not suddenly, but slow, curling in like smoke nosing under a door. Blood. Thick, iron-rich. It clotted in the air, ripe and heavy, like it had been spilled and left to ferment. Beneath that: sulfur. Acrid and bitter. A ghost of flame that hadn’t burned clean.

The Air smelled like earth and apples and autumn, and the low sun was painting everything in this gorgeous golden light that made even the fucking grass look magical. The first row of apple trees appeared, branches heavy with fruit, and Miles consulted the map Patricia had given us. "Okay, so... according to this light guy here, these are the Honeycrisp. Apparently they're the best for eating. It says 'fresh super crisp, sweet-tart balance,' alli of that." He reached up and plucked an apple from a low-hanging branch, examining it. "See? You want to look for ones that are fully colored, no green, and twist them gently. If they come off easily, they're ripe."