Bloodstained Apples Romane & Geschichten

Although the rain had stopped a few hours ago, the sky had begun to darken and that was clear evidence that the rain was going to pour down again. A little girl could be seen picking small apples that had fallen down the tree that stood tall in the center of a huge Mansion. "Beatrice darling, how many times does mummy have to tell you that picking the fallen apples is bad..do you want to be struck by lightning?" An older woman asked as she walked out of the house to see the little girl down on her knees as she picked them carefully. "But mummy, the apples are fresh." "Sweetie, this is food for the dead not for the living." Her mother said, and the little girl's eyes widened.

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.

It always happens whenever I'm scared. "Calm down, Cara, lest you reveal your powers to him," Hana whispers angrily. "If that happens we can kiss this place goodbye because we'll be thrown out as bad bloods." Bad bloods. Otherwise known as the Ruined, or the Cursed. The spoilt apples.

The fact of my own existence was proof of her desperate, impossible success. "We're here," Cassius said, his voice a gentle anchor in the storm of my thoughts. "Pick whatever you like." Before us stood a small, sun-dappled grove. The apple trees were heavy with fruit, their branches bowed low. Each apple was a jewel, crimson and gleaming with dew, impossibly perfect. I drifted towards the nearest tree, a strange sense of detachment guiding my hand. It trembled as I reached out, my fingers closing around the cool, smooth skin of an apple, and plucked it from its stem with a soft snap.

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.

Onur-Love wins, and the forbidden apple is sweeter than everything, only we know that because we experienced it. Lenor-Let everyone gets such love.

Grace nodded and looked at the TV again, watching as the men fought against one another, one of them killing three men with a pencil, what the hell? “At least I understand where you get your homicidal side from” I said standing up feeling disgusted by the amount of blood I saw pouring out of one of the men’s neck, wondering how it was possible for one man to take out three men, then go running to kill another man. “Oh, like you haven’t watched it with me, and yet here you are, all miss innocent” Grace said in a mocking tone. I rolled my eyes at my little sister and started heating milk to make some hot chocolate, might as well keep our bellies warm if we planned on having a movie night. Chec

The heavy doors pulled open and Alpha Varg walked in, stepping into the immediate space around the bed. The silence that accompanied his movement was absolute, heavy, and terrifying. His mountainous, imposing frame completely dominated the dim area, casting a long, dark shadow that stretched across the mattress, effectively cutting off the morning light. But what anchored my gaze…what made my breath completely catch in my dry throat…was his shirt. The pristine white linen shirt he had been wearing at breakfast was now heavily stained. A massive, gruesome smear of dark crimson blood was dried across his chest and down his forearms, a brutal, permanent brand of my failure from when he had lift

"She was begging for my help, and I pushed her away! All because of your lies!" Melora turned blue. She struggled wildly. Artemis pulled his crazed wife away. But his eyes looking at Melora were as cold as death. Zale stood up slowly. The pressure of the Sea God crashed down on Melora like a mountain. "Melora." His voice was a low rumble, like a judgment passed in the depths of Tartarus. "You took the Golden Apple. You killed Kressa." "No!" Melora shook her head wildly. "I really needed that apple!"

she said, shaking my arm. I shook her off. "You were the ones who made this a joke first." She suddenly rushed out of the room. Seconds later, she stormed back in with some apples. She threw them at me. "You haven't had this variety of apples, right? Fine. They're all yours. Eat as much as you want. If you want to leave, finish these first!" The commotion drew the entire family over. James finally spoke, every word he uttered directed at me. "Preston, it's New Year's. Do you have to make us angry? Look at what this house has turned into because of you!"