Bloody Mary! Novels & Stories

"What do you want to know, Bloom?" I shrugged lightly. "Favourite colour—and movie?" Zac's eyes squinted as he chuckled. He hummed for a moment. "Blue and Pulp Fiction." I nodded slowly. "Why blue?" His head cocked to the side as he looked out ahead at the world sprawled out in front of us. "It reminds me of the ocean." I bit on my bottom lip to stop my smile from stretching miles. I would have never seen it coming—Zac Miller being soft and sentimental. It was endearing.

Besides, I think they're too impatient to do things calmly. "What do you know about this wine called 'Blood of the Wise'?" Judging Orion's expression, there's no doubt, he's willing to tell him everything he wants to know. Ah. The scent of victory.

"We didn't want this happen" "You did! You whore!" Maddy hissed. Tears starting to pour out from her eyes. "My Rodrigo was dead because of the two of you-" "You lied to us all" the captain interrupted the old lady pulling her from behind. He looked at Maria with his unfathomable eyes. "Now this village is damned because of you and your daughter!" "My daughter is not a Badblood!" Maria protested but lost in the crowd of faces of the angry villagers. "Oh seeesh! She is!" shouted Maddy and everybody looked at her. "She bleeds gold! That's not a human blood. She's a mons-"

Her voice dripped with venom. I raised an eyebrow. "I didn't steal anything. And who is Ace to you, anyway?" I shot back, my curiosity piqued. She cried, shaking her head frantically, and then yelled, “How dare you say his name?!” “How dare I?” I chuckled softly, giving her my best ‘did you miss your way’ look. Because, really, did she miss her way? “You’ll pay for this, you will, you spawn of the devil!” Heather deadpanned, her little friends had gotten her something to keep the blood from flowing. She pressed the paper towel to her nose, suppressing the blood.

MARY yelled "SLAVES!" Her guards run in, Mary hired Russian slaves to shock them and make them serve her. There are 6 slaves, and 10 guards. Mary told the slaves "Hey, you, I assume you were enjoying your rest about now... I know but um, you'll die if you keep oversleeping." Doddy asks "What?" In concern. Mary yells "Guards!" Two guards punch the Russian who said it twelve times and Mary laughs at the Russian. Mary mocks her saying "Little Chernozhopy."

He shrugged before looking at Arlan, then Walter asked, “Can you start today?” Mary was sited beside Jerry, and he was giving her little tips on how to up her skills and win the game. She looked up and saw Walter walking towards them with Arlan. “What the fuck?” Mary said, squeezing her bottle of glass so much. It broke into tiny pieces, and her hand started bleeding. Jerry quickly tore a piece of his shirt and used it to wrap around Mary’s hand. “What is wrong?” “Nothing serious. Just do me a small favor,” she whispered.

“She has no Clan. Then there’s Mary.” “/I serve you first now,/” Mary tells us, “/But ask that you help Blackmarsh, when your help is needed./” “/That seems fair,/” I answer. Blackmarsh has been very generous to us. “Mary’s a ghost. She serves the Pack. And… there is Sarah.”

Very soon, Mary got out from the Lamborghini. She was wearing a revealing, red crop-top sweater, and she looked like a proud black swan under the night sky. After walking directly over to the Maserati, she forcefully smacked its engine cover. “Xyla Quest, get your ass out here!” Xyla frowned yet again before getting out of the car and approaching Mary. Mary immediately raised her hand and was about to slap Xyla across the face. Before Mary could do so, Xyla swiftly dodged the attack and grabbed her by the wrist. “Mary Sullivan, don’t go too far,” Xyla warned.

Only one name ripped itself from my throat, a slow, gravelly snarl that tasted of acid and betrayal: "Mary!" ​A sudden, hot ribbon of tears, sharp and scalding, broke free and carved a burning track down my temple. She had drugged me. Drugged Bryan. All for that insignificant piece of brass. She did it to help, to free my wife, to give her the chance for her own freedom. And now... ​My eyes snapped back to the horrific sight. She lay there, crumpled and utterly still, her once vibrant clothes soaked dark in a deepening pool of her own blood. The air was thick with the faint, metallic scent of it.

“Going once, going twice sol-” “ A thousand grams!” A voice interrupted, earning gasps from the crowd. I swallowed the invisible saliva clinging to my tongue as my eyes searched desperately for who would want to risk that kind of amount on a cursed woman. “That’s ridiculous for a demon, a thousand-“ “She is a Nymph!” A man dressed in a cotehardie and black boots with a feather hat that almost covered his face strode forward. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the devilish beauty underneath the hat. “A thousand and she’s mine,” he blurted, holding the gaze of the man who stood beside me.