Bloodstained Techniques Novels & Stories

My knuckles were pale beneath the sticky sheen of blood that wasn’t mine. Zach stood in the middle of the carnage, his chest rising and falling, each breath labored but steady. There was blood on him that is not his, not this time, it's splattered across his shirt, painting over the tattoos that marked him. I traced them instinctively with my eyes, the ones I used to follow with my fingertips in quiet, fragile hours when the world outside our bed didn’t exist. Now they were obscured, swallowed by the stains of violence.

Blood welled from the cut, but not a single drop reached the ground. Morvienne placed her other hand over the cut. Then, slowly, she began to pull it away. As her hand withdrew, the blood clung to her fingers instead of dripping. It stretched into a long crimson strand before thickening, hardening, and crystallizing as it flowed from the wound. Inch by inch, the forming blade followed her hand, as though she were unsheathing it from her own blood. By the time her arm was fully extended, she held a fully formed crimson sword, its translucent blade forged entirely from her blood.

This was a technique that was known only to elite guards, but I'd managed to learn it thanks to my intellectual capability. "Blood technique..." I chanted, and the nearer soldiers heard me. It was my intention to speak to their hearing, that way their sudden reaction would throw those behind into confusion, thus breeding chaos amongst the group. In one swift movement, the closer soldiers all leapt away in fear. They'd been following me tree to tree, the soles of their feet were already stained with my blood. ".... exploding blood!"

My claws extended and without waiting for a second breath, used my Bloodrage technique to get under his stomach and made a huge slash. He gurgled blood, a viscous whine leaving his throat as all eyes focused on me. I threw a knife that had been buried in the sand towards the one handed brother just as he reached Kael. My aim was true. The knife exploded at the back of his shoulders, cutting his other hand clean. He dropped to the floor in pain. Just as the wounded wolf tried to aim for me again, my hand snapped around his foreleg mid-strike. His momentum carried him straight into the ground. His bone made a sickening crunch, a howl split the hall as his arm bent the wrong way.

Bloodstain. My stomach dropped, and I gritted my teeth against the bile rising in my throat. I dared a glance down again. A faint, dark smear stained the hem of my dress, mocking me, taunting me with its presence. Tears almost rolled down my eyes, as I knew there was no way out for me anymore. I’d be caught with this bloodstain and there was no way to wipe it off. Except for one.

"I’m calling the Gambino family’s Don right now! Let him see your true colors—pretending to talk about business while trying to seduce someone else's husband! You're disgusting!" "I'm calling him now. I'm going to see him now and have him kill you!"

He breaks his fingers one by one with a kind of clamp, cuts off his ears, and cauterizes the wounds so that he loses so much blood to be able to continue with his game if the man dies. Then he turns to me, his face and his torso are splattered with blood, his hands drip with the crimson liquid, and he approaches me slowly as if I'll be scared if he does anything suddenly. I'm not disgusted but I am fascinated to see him work, he continues to get involved in his own game, and my stomach is oppressed by something that does not decipher. He reached out to me, placed his bloody hands on my waist, and carried me off the table, staining my shirt with his hands, but it didn't matter.

The technique was named "Hellfire." Intrigued and apprehensive, Danial made his way to the indicated shelf. He found the book nestled between two dusty volumes and carefully pulled it out. The cover was dark and worn, with intricate symbols etched into the leather. As he opened it, the air around him seemed to heat up, and he could almost feel the intensity of the technique within. The technique was advanced and required precise control and immense focus. He felt a mix of excitement and doubt. This was no ordinary technique; mastering it would be a challenge. But the potential it held was immense. He knew that if he could learn Hellfire, it would greatly enhance his capabilities.

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.

*** Another doctor holding two test tubes with blood samples in them, walked into Doctor Smith’s office. “Doctor Smith, Your attention is needed in th—” She staggered and dropped the samples, the test tubes breaking and the blood leaking out. She held the table in support because she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Just at the corner of the office lay the victim unmoving and quiet in a desperate position. She couldn’t help but scream and in less than 1 minute, doctors and nurses were piling into the office in concern.