Bloodstains Lyrics Novels & Stories

They shimmer like tiny stars in the crimson pool. Jasper coughs blood onto Lucian's hand. Silver flecks glimmer in it.

“I’ll always come for you, no matter what.” Pure joy flooded my system, but more so was love. He had come for me, and the fact that he had was more than I could ask for. As he pulled back, staring into my eyes his thumbs wiping the tears from my cheeks, he smiled, kissing me gently once more. “Don’t cry, Vanessa.” “As much as I hate to break up this happy reunion, Nash. We have to go.” Brady’s voice pulled me from my thoughts as I peered over Nash’s shoulder to see Brady covered in dirt, his hair a mess and blood splattered across his clothing. “Jesus, you look totally different.”

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.

I touch my face, as if unsure what I will find. But as I pull them away, my cheeks are damp. My hands were covered in silvery liquid. No, not silvery liquid. Blood. Lo is bleeding. And it is everywhere.

her eyes brimmed with tears, tears that she trying not to fall whatever it takes. “That Bloody Night were they first show up with full force,” she added as her eyes turned blank as she try very best to not to cry or even crack her voice. “As if maddened, they move so fast and deadly! To the point of draining everyone... Everyone that have the blood of the Brightest Moon and the...Almighty Sun, have drained their blood to flood the land with redness!”

I ordered. They were still murmuring. I got infuriated. I spotted a man in his early forties and zoomed in on him. I gripped his shoulder and slammed my hands into his chest. I ripped out his heart, and he fell to the ground dead. I dropped the heart on his carcass. I walked back to the porch, and by the time I reached there, everybody was quiet. The only sounds that could be heard were that of the crickets, which sang untiringly every night till dawn. I got a handkerchief from Solomon and wiped the blood from my hand.

I needed answers, and I needed them now. Tracking the bloodstains, I stumbled upon a scene that made my blood run cold. A figure lay motionless, bathed in a pool of blood. Denial gripped me, unwilling to accept the unmistakable features. Yet, as the figure shifted, our gazes locked, and reality slapped me with brutal force. It was Scarlet – broken, battered, and bleeding. "What!" I gasped, my voice barely audible as my mouth wide open in stunned silence. Time seemed to freeze, my brain struggling to process the scene before me.

He caught me just before I hit the ground, cradling my weakening body in his arms. “Alina! Alina,” he whispered my name in a trembling voice, full of shock—and was that... panic I heard? “My girl,” he choked out. I lowered my gaze, and that’s when I saw it—his hands, stained with blood. My blood. He was pressing hard on my torso, trying to stop the bleeding, but crimson was already seeping through his fingers. Beneath us, the snow was no longer white—it had turned a deep, wet red. The stain spread rapidly, devouring the purity of the fresh snowfall.

Everything about him is precise, controlled, perfect. Something’s wrong. I crouch down, my fingers brushing the fabric, finding it stiff in places. When I lift it, straightening on my feet, sunlight catches on a clean slice through the shoulder. But it’s the blood that makes my breath catch—dark brown stains spread across the white cotton like a Rorschach test of violence. I’ve never seen him bleed before…