Bloodstained Best Familiar Mga Nobela at Kwento

Only a speck of life was left in her body. She stared at herself in horror and in her eyes she could see her reflection. Her eyes were gray and her hair was brown. She was the Badblood girl. "H...help" she choked in pain. Tears fell down on her eyes. Rila just stared at herself in horror. She felt like her stomach was turned upside down. She looked in the distance and saw a tall man with unspeakable ugliness. His face was out of this world. He was holding an ax covered with thick crimson blood.

The sun is shining. "Isn't she your girl?" Huh? Who? Me? My mind asked that because of confusion. “Yes. He is the one our schoolmates are talking about. They said they couldn't smell her blood so they didn't know if she is vampire blood or not," "Really?!" “Yes. And even if you smell the air, you won't smell anything from her except her perfume," "That's weird," "Bro, I didn't smell anything on her except her perfume," "Me too, I didn't smell her blood,"

It was loud, filthy, and everything sinful. I didn't know one could cum from just spanking until I met him. Dormani Nostra was everything dark and evil. His signature smile made me want to gut him whenever he was near. Last night had been both a nightmare and a dream- a dark fantasy dream, one that had manifested right in front of me., without my consent, of course. (But I loved every bit of it. Was that possible? Or was I experiencing some syndrome with a man I had just met a few weeks ago?)

"Hm... you'll find out later, which will make it easier for you to deal with Barend." Instantly Felen stopped eating. The fork he was holding even fell to the floor due to his shaking hands. The blood, the blood splatter was visible again, staining all over his arms and palms with a strong fishy smell. Felen hurriedly got up from the chair until it fell down with a loud sound that startled himself. He quickly retreated as blood stained not only him, but almost the entire room. "No!" Felen squatted while closing his eyes tightly with his hands on both ears. Don't want to see the horror of the blood splattered everywhere.

But I just could not help it any longer, being face to face with a wolf had everything flooding into my brain, and I wanted to scream my lungs out. Blood. It was blood that I saw. My parents' blood, spilled on the wooden floor around their heads. I saw their lifeless eyes and still bodies, and wounded faces. I saw my eleven year old self crying and screaming for them to wake up and look at me again, to call me their baby again. But that did not happen, it never happened. And I saw the people that had done that to them, their smug faces and crooked smirks, their hands stained with the blood of my parents, and the set of tattoos on one of their forearms.

Familiar eyes shine through the dripping blood with a snarl. The monster grabs my wrist before I can pull back from a hard strike to its neck, and twists my hand painfully, bringing me down to my knees. Wait. How did it know my name? “OOwwwW!” I howl in pain and glare at the monster. “Let me go!” It takes a beat for me to look past his bloody appearance. Those eyes. I know who this fucker is. The coagulated blood he’s covered head to toe in isn’t blood at all. It’s the red mud of the Blood River. The natural iron deposits make the water blood red. It’s so potent that it turns the mud on the river banks blood red as well.

I stood up slowly, my legs feeling like jelly, and approached the basket. The smell hit me first. It was metallic, sharp, and unmistakable. Blood. Fresh blood. And there it was: a white shirt, or what used to be white, now drenched in red, soaked through with dark, glistening stains. Patches of the original fabric peeked through like mocking reminders, but the rest… It was a horror. My stomach lurched. No. Not again.

The moment the door opened, everyone in the living room instinctively covered their noses and mouths. Even Mom, who was always so domineering, gagged at the smell. Dad froze in the doorway. He stood frozen in place like a statue. I followed his line of sight and saw myself curled up on the floor. Between the drugs and alcohol, combined with the summer heat, my body had swollen and turned black beyond recognition. The pool of dried blood at the corner of my mouth split my face in two. There was still something tightly wedged inside my fist.

Wicked There was blood on the floor. A deep sticky red pool that had congealed to a tacky mess. It was the blood of a man I knew well. The father of my best friend. And it was strange to see it. I wasn’t a stranger to death and violence but to see our presidents blood and grey matter on the floor hit me hard.

Sorry but I need to live. ...... Blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood So much blood. ......