Novel & Cerita Bloodstained Endings

“You think this ends with me? You think killing me fixes this? There are more, Alex. More than you know. You’re swimming in a sea of sharks, and they’ve been waiting for you to bleed.” “I already did,” I said, pressing the barrel of my gun into his chest. Fear. I could smell it as his eyes widened and the rage melted to pain. “You won't shoot me,” he whispered. “Not here. Not like this.” I stared into his eyes. Then pulled the trigger. One shot. That was all I needed I stood over his body. Over the course of my life, I've always wondered what it would be like when I finally destroy the man who killed my family would be like.

"And so are you." "I'm cursed." The word comes out savage, desperate. "Everything I touch, I destroy. Everyone who gets close to me ends up dead or worse. You need to leave. Now. Before—" He doesn't finish. Because at that moment, the survivors from the caravan begin to emerge from their hiding places, drawn by the sudden silence. An older woman with iron-gray hair and sharp eyes takes one look at the scene—at the dead soldiers, at Kael wreathed in shadows, at me standing frozen in the middle of it all—and her expression shifts from fear to something that looks almost like recognition.

Claire ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ Blood... Blood stained my hands... Vincenzo's blood... I stared at the crimson stains, a sickening reminder of the violence I had unleashed. The weight of guilt pressed down on me, suffocating and relentless. I never intended for things to escalate like this. My plan had spiraled out of control, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

A final, wet rattle escaped his throat as he collapsed backward, utterly still, the ghastly crimson stain spreading beneath him. The tent was filled with the horrific tableau of blood, stillness, and the acrid stench of death

The stench of blood filled the air, a sickeningly sweet scent that clung to Allistair’s form. Azran’s face contorted in agony, his eyes wide with disbelief as life drained from him. His wings, once proud and radiant, lay tattered and broken, feathers drifting like fallen stars. Lucifer turned, and Allistair was drenched in the Arch Seraph's blood, head tilted like a predator, breathing heavily as if the kill had thrilled him.

No one that age should have to see or endure that. I grabbed the hanging shower head and started to run the water over her body, watching the water turn dark pink as it washed the blood from her. The more the water washed away, the more I could see the details of what had happened to her. The lashings were varying depths, some having started to scab over if they were more on the surface, the deeper ones still seeping blood.

Seven's white t-shirt is stained on the chest. I watch in horror as Seven falls on the ground, blood oozing out of his body. All I can see is Blood! Blood! Blood! 💀💀💀💀💀

He looked like he was about to say something, but he was cut off when he started coughing violently. He spat out a mouthful of blackened blood. It made for a gruesome sight against the white carpet. Felix stared at the blood in disbelief before he jerked his head up to look at me. "Why?" I set my wine glass down and looked down at him from the tip of my nose. "I'm just fulfilling my responsibility as a mother." Felix's eyes widened when he finally registered my words. The wolfsbane worked quickly, especially since Felix had been caught completely off-guard. It didn't take long before he crumpled to the ground.

“That's true. Now let's get you rinsed.” I'm offering to wash his knuckles off the proof of fight, there is a big old baby behind his tough form and he revealed it today. I turned on the tap, he let me pull his hands to the running water. The water mixed with the blood on his hands was a stain on the white porcelain sink. The more water touched his knuckles, the clearer the water became. The blood stains was gone, I looked at his knuckles where the blood had gathered the most, “No cut?” I asked, avoiding glancing at him.

Blood seeped from her wound, staining the floor a vivid scarlet, a stark reminder of the fragility of life. My world shattered. I dropped to my knees, my arms enveloping Zyra's fragile form, her lifeblood seeping through my fingers. The metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air, intermingling with the raw scent of fear and despair. It was a scene etched into my memory, a portrait of helplessness and fractured bonds.