Bloody Beggar Movie Review Novels & Stories

But I shivered when I saw a body lying on the grass, and I recognized her; it was Levine. "L—Levine?" Almost no voice came out of me when I noticed she was bloody. I knelt beside her and stared at her intently. Anger overwhelmed me because of the tragedy that had befallen her. How could they kill someone like her who had done nothing wrong to them?

"Wait. Whatever you want, I can give it to you. Money, anything. I'm taking both of them with me." Ethan steadied himself and regained his composure as he locked his sharp eyes onto Amber. Anyone else might have been intimidated, but Amber was not one to scare easily. She did not even lift her gaze before waving her hand. Tara panicked as her tears spilled uncontrollably while Ethan's eyes stayed on her, filled with nothing but heartache and tenderness. At that moment, I probably looked like the greatest villain of all. It was as if I was someone who had torn apart the fated love story of two star-crossed lovers.

Mom rushed over with red‑rimmed eyes and slapped me across the face. “It must have been you who drove Sheila away.” Her voice trembled with anger. “A girl raised by human traffickers is exactly what I expected. We should never have let you come back.” I stared at her. Then, through the blood blurring my vision, I looked toward Derrick. At that moment, the system’s countdown echoed in my mind. The stabbing pain in my chest intensified without warning. It hurt so much that every word required all the strength I had left. “If this was how things were going to be…”

"Want to see something? Come here and open this box." I got up quietly and went to that box. The thought of what would be inside that box made my heart restless. I extended one hand and opened it within the next breath. A dead body, covered from head to foot with new white linen, was lying under the box. He slid his hands and removed the linen. Her clothes were like that of a royal queen with bloodstains over them. There was grief on her face. And a broken bangle tied around her hand with sharp edges. One end of the bangle pierced her vein, and the blood fell off. Her skin seemed colder.

Fatimah pulled out the dagger, relishing in the spray of blood that spurted after the dagger and spattered to the floor as he staggered back and hit the ground with a thud, his eyes fixed on her, the shock never quite dissipates. Fatimah got up, the bullets falling out as she started to heal. "That took more than a minute" she grinned as the fire started consuming him and his scream of agony filled the whole bathroom. "I am sorry Silver but Massimo won't be getting a Head today, and maybe next time, just do your job without talking too much or listening to dumb shit. Did I say I was sorry? Oops, slip of tongue," She smiled and watched as he disintegrated and crumbled to ashes.

"Fuck y—" I pulled the trigger cutting him off and a loud pop was heard. There was a gasp of breath and then silence. Utter and complete silence. I stared at Robertson, his pitch black eyes open, but glazed over and lifeless. Empty. Hollow. Opened wide in his final death throes. He was limp against the wall. And in the middle of his forehead was a tiny hole where my bullet had gone. Thick blood ran down his face and my smile widened at the sight.

While taking a sip, she walked into our direction and sat between Jane and I. I looked at the tv again but was severely distracted by the naked legs of Tris. The buzz from the alcohol didn't help. My fingers were nearing her skin by themselves, I swear I had no control over them. “What are we watching?“ Tris asked us. I frowned at the tv. “What is this?“ I asked Jane. “Dracula. I think right now it's more of a documentary than a horror.“ Jane responded with a laugh. I grabbed a pillow next to me and threw it at Jane her head. She fell over, not expecting my attack and almost spilled her glass of Whiskey over the couch.

His clothing was covered in splattered blood, and the sickening smell of vomit and death intertwined with the stench of body order. Then, I turned to look at the crew. Isabella's fingertips traced the edges of Viktor's scars slashed across his neck as she sobbed. They shook as they moved to touch him. Martin was trying to help Amber with Wendall—everyone was torn apart. There was so much…carnage. My gut twisted—and I wasn’t sure whether it was from the stench and sight of it all, or because I truly, actually did care about the people in front of me.

Clarissa whispered to Lucas. Lucas hummed. Still not tearing his gaze off the couple as they walked down the aisle to wave at the audience. “They look cute.” his tone lowered as he muttered under his breath. “And pathetic.” But Clarissa heard him. She raised a single brow at him. “Why are they pathetic??” Lucas finally brought his gaze to Clarissa and forced out a small smirk. “Because Bukky is the worst.” He didn’t elaborate as he turned to face the scene again, giving all of his attention to the ceremony.

The scar-faced thug at the front kicked over a chair and snarled, "That bastard Kevin didn't pay up. So guess what? You're the payment." Before I could react, two of them lunged at me. "Don't come near me!" I screamed. They laughed. "Still acting like some pure little girl? Where was all this fight when you were with other men, huh? Filthy vixen." I pressed the silver blade to my throat. My voice trembled. "One more step and I'll kill myself. I swear it." Blood had already started to stream down my neck. That finally made them stop. They spat curses as they backed off. "You've got three days. If we don't get our money, you'll be burying Kevin instead."