Bloody Mary Candle Novels & Stories

Melanie" she stood up "Don't you dare harm any of them you bløôdly bîtvh!?!?Don't_" "Bring in the candles!' Fiona half-yelled. Immediately the door to the dark room got opened. A guy came in holding a candle and a lighter. Bexley struggled trying to break free from the tight ropes on her legs and hands A sly smrike was plastered on her lips as she lit up the candles. The wax started melting and Fiona bent the candlestick a little

Azrael felt as though he was staring directly into the heart of creation itself—a feeling of wonderment that left him breathless. And then there were the candles. Every single one of them had been magically infused with an intense red glow, the light flickering gently over their wicks like fiery eyes reflecting the fireflies. The scent of burning cinnamon and cloves mingled together to create a sweet fragrance that seemed to emanate from the candles themselves. The candles were placed at strategic points in the garden, some in the ground, some hanging from vines, and others dangling between trelliswork. The entire garden glowed in the candlelight as if the Cerulean sun had dipped behind the

The fragrance filled the room, creating an atmosphere of calm and serenity. Next, I lit the candles. I had chosen a variety of sizes and shapes, all in soft, muted colors that complemented the lavender of my nightgown. Their flickering flames cast a gentle, golden glow throughout the bathroom, their light dancing on the walls and ceiling. The candles added a touch of magic to the room, transforming it into a sanctuary where I could escape from the world and its troubles.

“Guys…this feels legit. Like…witchcraft legit.” Sky beamed. “Thank you. I pride myself on authenticity.” Charlie sighed. Loudly. “These candles are eighty percent wax and twenty percent chemical fragrance. The only spirit you’re calling is Bath & Body Works.” Sky ignored him and crouched beside the candles, lifting her hands like some medium. “Who wants to join the circle?” she asked. Half the room practically trampled each other trying to volunteer. Tyler, the eternally doomed lunch-money thief, was shoved forward first.

The living room had been stripped of furniture, leaving only a white table adorned with candles and scattered rose petals in the center. The soft glow of the candles highlighted Marco's features, casting shadows across his face. It was a surreal sight, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze as I took it all in.

A pathetic weapon against a sentient forest. I flicked it. The flame sparked to life. I touched it to the nearest vine, a thick tendril creeping over a root. Nothing. The flame licked at the waxy surface but wouldn’t catch. It was like trying to light wet rubber. I cursed, shoving the lighter back. My mind raced through my meager inventory. The candle. The weird white candle from the ferry ticket-taker. A low-grade Artifact with a ‘purifying’ tag I didn’t fully understand.

“Milk this candle with your virgin cunt. Soak it. Show me how much you love being ruined by your holy guardian.” Even as her orgasm began to ebb, he did not stop. He kept the thick red candle buried deep inside her, pumping it in and out with slower but still powerful strokes, drawing out every last shudder. Her pussy was red and swollen, stretched wide around the base of the candle, leaking profusely. Father Damien pulled the candle out almost completely, admiring the messy sight of her ruined hole and the candle glistening with her cream and blood. Then he pushed it back in to the hilt, making her whimper again.

Her hair, as usual, was wild, and an apron was tied to her waist with purple bruises all over her body as she lit up the candles. Each one had a carved symbol of a blood moon on its body. The candle represented something ominous in the pack. Only witches used it for rituals. She was definitely not going to sacrifice or hell drink my blood. Whatever witches did these days. The light from the candle made it easier to see my pimp’s face. Her eyes were closed tight and her hands lifted up in a prayer. “Sanguis… Vinctum… Aperire…” She said in a strange language. My eyes caught a painting of two werewolves drawn near a blood moon with a girl in the middle with fierce eyes.

“Martini? Vodka on the rocks?” I pull out my silencer and Jonas’ eye go wide as saucers. His petrified gaze shifts rapidly back and forth between the gun and my face. “Bloody Mary,” I tell him and shoot at his dick. A deep shade of red blossoms like a flower and spreads through his robe, changing it to a deep maroon colour and Jonas slumps onto the ground. Blood splatters on the brunette too and she screams, running away faster than you can say ‘bye’ while the tall lean man stands frozen like a statue.

I asked looking at the new item she added in the already list of things I bought for the earlier spell. “They are ashes and this candle I bought from one of my friend. This is not some ordinary candle; its wax is prepared from the dead carbon of the purge of underworld. They are scented.” I saw her face light up in excitement. She was enjoying it, her voice wavering as she explained me everything. “You know they say the scent can make a memory come alive, the spirits we calling needs to lure with this candle. Once the spirits answered us, we have the time till the candles extinguishes.” She said and I hummed trying to remember everything by repeating it inside my mind over and over.