Bloody Murder 2: Closing Camp Novels & Stories

Flashes of me beating him to a bloody pulp the day Jamie left flash in mind, making what I know is a sick grin on my face. I can finally hear Red shifting awake to the sound of my voice, her chains clanking against the concrete with a small whimper of girlish fear. “It’s going to be okay Alley.” I hear Josh whisper to her. As soon as I heard him say that, I found my perfect moment. I fire my gun right into Greg’s forehead, blood dripping from the hole down his face, with his terror still plain as day in his wide, open, lifeless eyes. I hear an earth shattering sceam with a cry of terror from Alley’s cell making me turn toward her with a now blank expression.

I leaned against the wall with my hand rubbing my chin, deeply analyzing the situation. “Sons of bitches took half of our silver.” Blayne retorted. This place was one of his favorite. He was a bloodthirsty head warrior that loved to punish people for their wrong doings. His rage called for blood. The first cameras had been frozen. The records demonstrated that the rooms had no movements where no one went in and no one came out. The strange thing about that was Blayne himself visited the bunker twice in the week and the camera never showed him entering or leaving.

“What you’re doing is illegal.” “So is sucking the blood from innocent humans!” Jo retorted. “Or at least it used to be! Before President Crimsoncrotch and his cronies took office. Look. At. Me.” Slowly, the monster lowered his arm, revealing the steel grey eyes that assured Jo one pull of her trigger would end him. She didn’t hesitate. As he opened his eyes to make another plea for his life, her finger flinched, pulling back the tiny piece of metal that let fly a larger projectile, this one exploding between his eyes and leaving him staring into her own blankly for a half a second before he dissipated into a pile of black ash, mingled with piss.

They fight with vengeance, with hatred. Howls split into the air, the forest drowns out the whimpers. The ground swallows the blood that spills. Teeth tear into skin, claws rip apart flesh.Wolves zip past, paws pounding the sand. We hunt, chase, kill. It’s chaos, and it’s madness. From the corner of my eye, Macy shields a young Delta with her body, snarling, while Rio takes down two rogues at once. The chorus of our pack’s howls spurs me forward, refusing to let anyone fall. Then, I focus on the rogue I’m chasing.

Outside, crouching down and trying to hear, I sense something and turn around. From the tree above, a rogue drops to the ground with the lifeless pups body in her arms. Letting it go and fall to the earth, I notice the blood dripping from her fingers. She had just killed Samantha and was about to dispose of the body when I showed up. With her bloody fangs still wet, she smiles and then charges towards me.

Balls And waves of red hot fire and golden flames flew like raindrops, knocking its target. The patrols fought for their lives, slashing and trusting their spears and swords to the enemies. Bong and Bato were fighting back to back a black wolf but suddenly the grasses on their feet grew and wrapped them. They helplessly cut the grasses but they just keep growing. Seizing the opportunity, the wolf lunged at the both of them and bit their head off. Bato's perfectly round and shiny head rolled on the ground and was squashed to pulp by a Reaper. Rila stared in horror at her friends. She picked a dagger from her hips and threw it on the plant Badblood. The dagger sunk perfectly on the forehead.

Blood bloomed dark on the carpet, the copper tang filling the air. The stalker gurgled, eyes bulging, but Knox wasn't done. A silenced pistol appeared from his holster—two muffled pops, chest and head. The body jerked, then stilled, a pool spreading like ink. Silence crashed back, broken only by my sobs. Knox rose, covered in blood that wasn't his—splattered across his shirt, his face, his hands. He kicked the door shut with a thud, locking us in with the corpse. His eyes found mine, dark and possessive, not a flicker of remorse. "It's over," he said, stripping off the ruined shirt, revealing the scarred muscle beneath.

“Please, master, the people who had your urn know Kayla's last blood. You should go get your answers now for we know nothing.” Lucan continued to plead, but they fell on Emmett's deaf ears; he had waited long to make these people suffer. When he looked at their faces, he saw, in his eyes, the people who betrayed him by killing him. He saw his murderers. Because they felt intimidated by him, they burned him alive. He was about to bring down the Park house in great flames when he heard someone call out his name, putting a pause to the thrilling show he was about to start up

she whispered as if reading my mind, she leaned too close that her smell of rot swirled into my nostrils as her breath fanned my cheek. Then she rose to her feet. “No, you don’t deserve to die, you deserve to suffer,” she added just as she took two steps away from me. My eyes widened as I tried to look at her face, my lips parted, but it was indeed too late. Her hands clasped together, her pointed long fingers soaked with blood, suddenly every move glistened with lights as the room swayed. My breath crawled to my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs, and my heart sank like a ship drowning in the stormy sea of Gordon.

I grabbed the hem of Felix's shirt, fixed a pitiful expression on my face, and mumbled, "I believe you, Felix." Felix's expression softened as he helped me back to my feet. Taking advantage of the fact that the other wolves' attention was still on us, I retrieved a document from my bag and handed it to Felix. "I accidentally recorded your pup's blood type as AB when I registered his information last time. The truth is, his blood type is O." Felix's face twisted as he snatched the document from me. An eerie silence descended upon the hall. Everyone knew that all the wolves of the Blackrock pack had type-AB blood, making it impossible for a pup with type-O blood to exist in the pack.