Bloodstains Lyrics Novels & Stories

neo Apr 2015 werewolf thoughts at midnight there are bones between my teeth moonlight glimmering in my eyes dried blood in my nails, in my hair my head pounding (thump. thump. thump.) you know they say blood is thicker than water but that just means blood is more likely to stick in my throat coughing up family ties one by one glistening red memories, leaving only a metallic aftertaste sick nightmare fantasy of ripping open bodies im the monster in your fairytale stories lets do a bit of editing, perhaps? lets shred the whole **** book, perhaps?

White and black filled my vision. "Endure it a little more." Conrad's cold voice made goosebumps settle on my skin. "Ugh! My throat hurts from screaming. And tears kept flowing at the side of my eyes. The moment I looked down, realization hit me like a truck. "Why am I...b-bleeding?!" Dark red oozed out of me like water from a broken pipe. The white bedsheet is now stained with my blood and my previously lilac nightgown cannot be recognized by it's soft color anymore.

Turning the blood stains from a deep red color to a pinkish pigment. I cupped her face and put her forehead to mine. “You’re safe now, baby,” I tried to soothe. Sera continued to sob as the recent events sank in. I placed a hand on her bump. “You both are safe now.” I pressed a kiss to her lips and licked her tears from my lip. Sera clung to my blood stained shirt. “Shhh, it’s over baby. You did so well!” I ran my hand down her head before placing my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me.

~CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND NINETEEN~ I try to pull her up. And that’s when I see it. Blood. So much blood. It stains her clothes, spreads across the floor, thick and dark and real. My brain refuses to understand it. “What… what is this?” My voice comes out small. “Nina? Talk to me. What happened?” She tries to smile. She actually tries to smile. But her lips tremble and no sound comes out.

Sharper this time. I swallowed. My hands were shaking. I hugged my sketchbook tighter. He exhaled through his nose. Looked at the blood on his knuckles like it had personally offended him. Then he reached into his jacket, pulled out a black bandana, and started wrapping his hand. I watched, stupidly mesmerized. “Why were you there?” I asked quietly. His eyes flicked to mine. “I was passing through.” “Twice in two days you’ve ‘passed through’ exactly where I am.”

the man said as he grabbed a knife from his side. “I’ll stab you, and I expect you to live, do you understand?” He said to the trembling little boy, “I know you’ll die, but I’m very willing to wait until you try and kill me and my man. I don’t care if you kill us through haunting, or if you miraculously survive. Either way,” he stabbed Michael on his left bicep, and the little boy screamed in pain, “Make sure you never forget my face.” he said as he dropped the bleeding boy on the deck and gestured for his men to leave.

I grab the glass, now within reach and chuck the contents in Diana's face. Diana blinks hard a few times, her eyes going back to her normal blue colour. Slowly she focuses on me in a sweaty mess from having to contort myself like a fucking pretzel. "Bonnie.... What are you doing? And why am I covered in...... lemonade?" We both burst out laughing, I'm laughing out of sheer relief. I was nearly squished like play doh in her bloody hand. I flop on the floor. Thankfully it's dark in the kitchen and my throat heals over within a minute. Quickly I wipe the faint traces of blood onto my jumper sleeve.

Her blood will stain my hands too. My fingers tremble as I brush the blood-soaked strands of her hair from her face. Her eyes are shut, thank God, but they’re frozen in a final look of shock. Her body is still warm, the blood sticky and thick against her skin. Her blonde hair, once so bright, is now matted, darkened by the blood. I touch her cheek softly, my heart breaking all over again. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. I feel myself spiraling, my thoughts sinking deeper into a darkness that threatens to swallow me whole. I shouldn’t be alone. Not like this. But the room is empty, and it feels like the world has closed in on me.

The crimson drops blossomed against the crystal, stark and visceral, like morbid roses blooming on glass. "My blood won you this," I said, gesturing to the shattered trophy with my bleeding hand. My voice was so calm it was chilling. "And now, I'm taking back everything I've earned for you."

Diana’s POV Blood. That was all I could see. The Sovereign’s mouth was clamped on the boy’s throat, his fangs buried deep, lips slick with crimson. The boy’s body dangled lifeless in his grip like a discarded rag doll. Blood streamed in rivulets, mingling with the storm, painting the rooftop tiles in diluted streaks of red, like wine bleeding into water, staining everything it touched. The rain couldn’t wash the horror away. It only spread it, painting the rooftop in streaks of diluted red.