Bloodstained Bloodless Novels & Stories

he spat, kicking her in the side before yanking her head up by her blood soaked hair. His black shirt was stained, red bleeding through the dark fabric. Yes. Black. Stained. With blood. You can imagine how much blood it takes for crimson to show through black. She sobbed, her voice trembling so hard that her words barely came out. I clenched my fists. My breath trembled as Ruthless shoved me forward toward the twins and the bleeding woman. The blonde twin, Lucifer, stood silently at the side, his gaze cold. In his hand, he turned a small dagger, tracing the blade with a detached kind of focus, like the weapon fascinated him more than the chaos around.

Damn. My heart pounds frantically in my chest as I feel something wet and sticky between my legs. With trembling hands, I reach down, my fingers coming away slick with crimson, the metallic scent of blood filling the air. God, why am I bleeding? Horror washes over me as I realize what's happening, and I feel bile rise in my throat, threatening to choke me. The blood continues to flow, staining the pristine floor beneath me in dark, ominous streaks, a stark contrast against the polished surface.

The air seemed to thicken with a mix of fear and adrenaline, intensifying the already suffocating atmosphere. Kelsey lay motionless on the bathroom floor, a grotesque pool of crimson spreading around her head. The impact had caused a sickening crack. It was as if time had stopped, and the world had been transformed into a morbid tableau of pain and consequence. Abigail's gaze shifted to her trembling hands as she recoiled on the floor. She did this. She had stained her soul with Kelsey's blood.

We finally have an elder on our side and she can perhaps combat with the warlock magically. "And I can't think straight with this throbbing head and bleeding body." I bobbed my head and bit a chunk of my hand before filling a wine glass with the droplets of my blood. The blood of vampires can help heal up all kinds of wounds on any supernatural species and fragile humans. Bastiana accepted the glass and drank my blood with a gulp while her face mirrored disgust. Her scars began healing and her cuts closed back till her skin was as good as new.

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. ......

Her bright ruddy colored blood staining his white colored suit. Red had been shot and was going lifeless in his arms, she was slowly slipping away, dying and there was nothing he could do about it.

Levi Blood drips from my hands, trickling down my fingers like crimson tears. My shirt is stained, the white fabric soaked with the dark red liquid. I make my way into the tall building, a majestic skyscraper with a sleek, modern design. The ceiling made entirely of glass allowing the light to sip in unhindered. I'm pissed to the core as I make my way to the elevator, my feet grazing the polished graphite wooden floors. The metallic scent of blood lingers in the air around me, the trail of blood behind me as it drips from my hand and once white sparkling shirt.

Understand now? Tara froze, staring at me in shock. I did not care. I turned around to leave, but a shadow blocked my path. I looked up. I did not know how long he had been standing there. Ethan's bloodshot eyes told me everything. He had cleaned himself up, trying to look sharp, but no matter how polished his appearance, eyes never lied. No one could fake the exhaustion of countless sleepless nights. His voice was hoarse and tinged with nervousness. "I didn't know she came here. I'll send her away right now, Lana."

He hadn't stopped. My breath hitched, a sharp, shaky sound that broke the heavy, suffocating silence of the room, cutting through the oppressive stillness that clung to everything. A fresh wave of nausea rolled through me. I turned my head to the side, slowly, painfully, and that’s when my gaze landed on it. The blood. Stark against the once-pristine white sheets, a violent splash of crimson, an undeniable, horrifying stain. It was everywhere, smeared and streaked, a brutal, cruel testament to everything that had happened, to everything he had taken.

Blood stained her trembling fingers, a vivid testament to her suffering. With an unwavering determination, Lilith shifted her gaze to Alvin, her eyes still shining with their golden hue, oblivious to the change. Slowly, she traced her bloodied hands along the place where the dagger had pierced his chest, her touch gentle yet desperate, seeking a connection she did not fully comprehend.