Bloody Mary Folklore Novels & Stories

“One day, something terrible happened. There was a rampage at the tavern, as one of the drunken men had lost control and had caused a killing spree. They threw all sorts of things at themselves, knives, swords, daggers, and a lot of people present there were killed, including Marylin Lou. “She was taken to a priest who happened to be a newly converted vampire, for her body to be blessed before it would be buried. The priest, who found out that her heart was still beating in the mortuary, decided to convert her immediately, as she would be dead in a matter of seconds if he didn’t. He bribed the mortuary staff to lie to her family that she had been buried immediately after the blessing, and th

I barely knew how she did what she did myself, but something told me it had something to do with the copious amounts of her blood I could smell on her. "That wasn't natural, Sol," Serin said softly. I knew he was trying not to anger me. He didn't want to insult Mia, but his confusion was understandable. "Don't you remember the old stories?" "The old stories?" Sarah asked as she looked up at both of us. "Fictional stories," I stressed to both of them. "Bedtime stories our mothers would tell us." "They were cautionary tales, Sol, of half-bloods who could wipe out entire villages and kingdoms if they chose to."

“I want to understand you. You will teach me how to understand you,” “I have a new theory.” Faye slumped on the couch beside Selene who was getting ready for her work. The seemingly sunny day was not in sync with her mood, she barely got any sleep and it has been going on for three days straight after she left Domus Malum, feeling bewitched. “So.. I have read about an Irish folklore called “Candies for the Soul” which talks about a supernatural being that lurks in the forest or mountains, it is famous because people are flocking outside till midnight calling for its name to grant them three wishes..”

The young woman nodded gratefully, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and apprehension. She led us through the winding streets of Sleepy Hollow, her steps quick and urgent as she recounted the town's dark history and the origins of the Headless Horseman's curse. Long ago, a powerful warlock had been betrayed by the townspeople and condemned to a gruesome death, his head severed from his body in a cruel act of vengeance. In his dying breath, the warlock had cursed Sleepy Hollow, vowing to return from the grave and exact his revenge on all who dwelled within its borders.

"Bloody Mary? As in the cocktail?" Sayna smirked. Naturally, she knew about the legend of Bloody Mary that was told before the cocktail, but she did not want to let slip a chance to diss Mary. Even if she was not given a beating, it was just a matter of time if Frank was not here.

The Blood Mistress is the one whose hair is the color of autumn and she sees the world through color brown—through russet eyes. And since both of them—Maebh and Romaine—possessed those, the two of them are the enemies that she had been looking for. Her enemy had been on her side all along, and had been close to her ever since she had known this world—the world where the creatures of the night lurk. The so-called Romaine Eastwood is Mary Bathory, the former Blood Mistress before she passed the title to her daughter. The blood of being the Blood Mistress still ran in her veins though, nevertheless the fact that she already passed her title.

CRIMSON “Do you know the story of the bloody werewolf rogue that was killed by his alpha? Do you know about that rogue that was hated by all of his pack and all the other packs that no one wanted him at all? Are you familiar with the story, child?” an old woman asked me while giving me a serene smile on her lips.

"Each plant is fed with vampire blood mixed into the soil. It sustains them and gives them their unique properties." "They glow." "Blood magic manifests in different ways. These roses have been cultivated for centuries. Some say they remember every vampire whose blood fed them." He stopped beside a fountain where water ran red over black stone. "This place is a secret. Only few are allowed entry." "Why bring me here?" "Because you should see beauty that comes from darkness. Not everything touched by blood is terrible." He gestured to a bench beneath a willow whose leaves hung like silver curtains. "Sit.”

"Maybe you didn't lose it. Maybe your body was just too traumatized to use it. Or maybe it only works when your heart is truly connected to the person you're healing." He stood up and began pacing the small room, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "Kyla, have you ever heard the legends of the Wolf Mother? Not the Goddess, but the flesh-and-blood women who supposedly carried her direct bloodline?" I shook my head. "I thought those were just bedtime stories, until Tormund found the bone." "That bone doesn't belong to him," Cyrus grunted. "But what else do you know about these women?" "Well, my mother used to tell me about she-wolves whose blood could turn lead into gold and whose breath could

Savannah's hand went rigid in mine. Rowan's eyes narrowed. "A story?" Mabel nodded once. "Yes. Old packs used to scare pups with tales of Bloodborn. Creatures that could walk like vampires but bleed like men. Things that were old enough to know wolf law and cruel enough to twist it." "And my mother believed in them?" "Not exactly." Mabel said quietly. "She found proof." "What proof?" I asked, feeling my mouth go dryer than the desert. "Bodies." Savannah inhaled sharply.