Bloody Slash Novels & Stories

Olivia's POV “Where did she go?” someone muttered in shock. The sudden disappearance caught everyone off guard. Even the humanoid replica that had been battling Phoenix froze briefly, staring at the empty spot where she had vanished from as though trying to sense her presence. The stage became strangely silent for that split second. Then— “Look there!” someone suddenly shouted. A dark blur appeared behind the replica figure. Before the copy could even react— Slash! A sharp crescent-shaped strike sliced cleanly through its body from the shoulder downward, cleaving it into two halves instantly.

"I came here prepared. I already gave her an hint that I might be leaving her soon . I already said goodbye to my friends, so it's fine, and... Slash!! Slash! Slash!! He didn't let her finish. He slashed and gored her to death. It was the sound of a sword-- The sword that hadn't been anywhere there, some seconds ago. I looked closely and realized it was no sword-- it was his claws and teeth. Blood flowed on the desk, floor and splashed onto his face. He gored her three times. He did it so easily that I wondered how many people he had killed in the past. Everywhere was bloody. There in the corner they both had had sex barely five minutes ago, he dug a hole, put her body in the sack and dumped

His movements were savage, unrestrained, and ruled by raw fury. SLASH! The first lash cut through the air with a cruel hiss before it cracked across my back. The pain came instantly, searing and white-hot. It tore through skin and muscle, igniting nerves as if a fire had been lit beneath my flesh. My body shuddered with the impact, my knees threatening to give out. Yet, I refused to fall. My teeth ground together, and I kept silent. SLASH!! Then came the second strike. The sound echoed a wicked slash that reverberated through the open courtyard.

A genuine laugh, short and disbelieving, the laugh of someone who has encountered something so far outside their expected category that their threat response hasn't activated yet. "A child," he said. "They sent a child—" He moved fast for a Foundation cultivator. The kampilan came in a diagonal arc — a proper technique, Crimson Bone Slash by the form of it, Blood Clan methodology — and the aura pressure riding the blade edge was real and would have opened me from shoulder to hip if I had been standing still. I was not standing still.

They didn’t hesitate. The first one came fast, too fast for human, but his speed was wrong—jagged where a wolf’s was fluid, all teeth of motion without the grace. Half-turned. Broken magic. *Witch-blood.* He swung the torch like a club and the smoke hit Kaelira like frostbite. She reared back, gagging. Another stepped in with a silver knife low to the ground to hamstring her. She went high.

A reasonable definition of truth is to unfold secret's. But what lies are there to be told? “An 18 -year -old girl has been missing since last month and now the police have found her body. Sadly, they found her dead. They could not explain the reason for her case and are still in the process of investigation. What was surprising was that there was not even a trace of the stabbing nor shooting on the girl's body that could have caused her death. Instead, they found traces of a bite on the side of her neck. It's sounded like there are really a vampire and people believe that it might be true—” I rolled my both eye's after I turn off the TV.

"Neither! I swear on the Moon Goddess herself, I’ve given her everything I—" A sickening slash cut through the air. Warm liquid splashed across my face and neck in a sudden hot spray. I didn’t need to see it to know what it was. Blood. Still pulsing with the last beats of a dying heart. Then came the horrible wet sounds. The desperate, gurgling gasps of a man whose throat had just been slit open. He kept making those awful, bubbling noises for a few endless seconds before everything went sickeningly quiet. Oh Goddess.

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.

But before he could even take a step, the shadows at the edge of the tree line violently ruptured. A foul, twisted creature—a massive, rogue Blood-born that had somehow slipped through the western vanguard patrols—lunged out from the darkness. Its skin was a mottled, necrotic grey, its maw dripping with a black, corrosive saliva as it caught Solar entirely by surprise. The strike was blindingly fast. Solar spun, her golden jaws snapping shut in a desperate defense, but the creature’s jagged fangs sank deep into her front shoulder blade, tearing through the golden fur.

The fight and anger she had been feeling completely evaporated from her body, as the last image of her parents became permanently etched into her mind. She would forever carry the trauma of seeing their dead bodies with her. Just a few hours ago, they had been eating and laughing around their fireplace. Now, her parents’ bodies were strewn across the floor, their lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling. A pool of dark liquid surrounded them, and Mara finally realized what it was that had stained the woods and floors. Blood. They passed by two other bodies that Mara didn’t recognize. But as the man carrying her walked into the cold night, all Mara could see through her tear-stained eyes were