Bloodstained Classic Mode 2 Novels & Stories

“You did, but you might be one of them now but remember, the hunt will continue. We will continue to die. That tradition will never die until Dar die.” “Might be true, but still, you went after the wrong person. And in the wrong way. You might tell that reason to make yourself feel better but I don’t buy it, I always see through your façade. Good bye I hope you get to be punished for eternity by the god of punishment.” I tell him as I stab my sword into his eyes before slitting his throat and wrist. “Leave him to bleed out, then collect my sword and help me return it. “With that, I moved towards the camp. I have made the statement that I wanted to make.

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. ......

Impatience consumed me, followed closely on its heels by frustration. “Give it a moment. Keep focusing.” She murmured as if she could sense my mood turning. I bit back a sigh and kept it on, internally rolling my eyes at the nothingness. All of a sudden, something sharper wafted up to me, it’s tinge distinctively metallic. It smelled incredibly familiar. “Blood,” I murmured, my stomach twisting. “Yes,” she said gently. “That’s the cloth—it’s from a recent hunt. What else?” I took another breath, sorting through the layers of scent. “Mint… leather… something sweet.”

It had a chequered front strap, double diamond grips, stainless steel and engraved frame, polished gold finish of the Wilson Combat Classic Super grade handgun. Eden had seen it in Malakai's hands multiple times and absolutely loved it. In all honesty, she was just taking it now to piss Malakai off, and trust me, it worked. Malakai was fuming, Eden was going to be a lot to handle, he could already tell. He knew she would not be easy to control, and that was an understatement. Eden had become one of his best too. By the time Malakai reached his office, Eden was long gone.

Belle gasped and her eyes went wide. Alba, with a revolver on her gloved-hand, had been standing behind Annabella when she unexpectedly fell face down onto the hard surface of the carpeted floor. Annabella started to shiver and moan on the ground, as Alba aimed the rifle at her head without any hesitation.

How the hell did that happen? Having no time to process these sudden unexpected mind link powers, I ran and jumped as high as I could muster, at the nearest tree. Clinging onto a branch with all my strength I managed to climb up on it before the rogue beneath me attempted to pull me down. Seconds later the rogue was shot dead by someone in the bushes opposite. I screamed in panic but then out jumped Ben and Daniel in their wolf forms along with a few of the warriors. Ben's wolf was beautiful, thick black fur and and he was extremely strong. Taking down the remaining rogues easily in a matter of seconds. We were finally safe but Ben was furious to say the least. They quickly changed back to

Evil Moon said in human language. There was no response from the other side. Evil Moon's forelimbs crouched down slightly, and the next moment, it had disappeared on the spot. A white flowing light flashed across the sky in an instant. A muffled groan rang out. Blood splattered in the air. When Evil Moon returned to the shore, there was a trace of dark crimson blood on its white claws, falling drop by drop on the shore, coagulating and shimmering like scintillating scarlet pearls.

Malakai was throwing an absolute, unhinged temper tantrum. The pitch-black interior of the vehicle was silent save for the pathetic, rhythmic ticking of a dead dashboard and the heavy, furious panting of the ancient vampire. The crystal glass lay shattered on the floorboards, and the priceless vintage wine was a dark, sticky stain ruining the lap of his bespoke three-piece suit.

I grabbed a match from the mantle and struck it. “What are you doing?” Silas roared, lunging for me. I dropped the match. The gilt-edged pages, soaked in the dry rot of twenty years, caught instantly. The secrets of the Ares empire—the murders, the bribes, the “Conditioning”—erupted into a wall of orange flame. “I’m clearing the site,” I said. Silas tackled me, the weight of him slamming me into the mahogany desk. We hit the floor, a tangle of limbs and fury. I felt the detonator fly from his hand, skidding across the floor toward the vault.

The staples I had driven into his side were visible—tiny, silver-white stitches against skin bruised an oxygen-starved purple. He wasn't fighting a King. He was fighting a Sledge-Wolf—a chemically enhanced monster with arms like tree trunks and eyes leaking necrotic fluid. "Betting is closed!" a voice shrieked. "The 'Mortal Relic' vs. The Butcher!" I watched, my pulse thudding a slow, syncopated rhythm. I didn't feel the fire of a fated bond. Instead, the Gilded Toll pulsed in my skull, a sharp, clinical erasure.