Novel & Cerita Bloody Vengeance

I look around before taking the front door but right on cue, another call comes through, this time telling me to go round the building to the back. I obey without thinking twice and as I take the corner to the back, I stumble on something, coming to a stand still. “Oh my God!” I gasp in horror. The sight in front of me makes all the hatred I have for George to evaporate. My heart is filled with guilty and remorse. He's lying there lifeless in a pool of his own blood, his white polo shirt ripped off at the chest and fresh blood oozing from what looks like a fresh wound around the left breast.

He didn't react, his fury blinding him as to what he was doing to them, his eyes completely red from one end to another, almost mechanically he just added pressure to his grip until suddenly their bodies combusted into bloody pieces, the blood flowing freely. As quickly as his fury consumed him, it just as quickly left, he blinked and stared at the human limbs scattered around in front of him, he could feel as panic started to set in but quickly pushed it down as he moved towards his home but he comes to a stop as suddenly there was a man in military clothes standing before him, a speed ability user like him, but most likely a single ability user.

With my trembling hands, I grabbed the handle of the door, and it had just opened when Bell's scream froze us. I furrowed my eyebrows and turned back only to see her pale face with widened eyes. She covered her mouth with her hands and panicked. We followed her gaze and stared at the sink. The sight I saw sent chills down my spine. Blood was flowing instead of water from the tap, which had blown us all away. I choked in the air as she showed us the blood across her lips. "I told you, Bell. But still, you didn't listen to me."

The scene was nothing less than a crime tableau — brutal, merciless, drenched in vengeance. And Damon stood at the center of it, his dagger dripping, his fists bleeding, his eyes blazing with fire. The men fell like dominoes, their cries swallowed by the storm. Damon’s men pressed forward, relentless, merciless. The sixtieth floor was no longer a tower of glass and steel — it was a graveyard, drenched in blood and vengeance. Annaida watched, her face pale, her madness unraveling. She had never imagined this — Davina drenched in blood yet unbroken, Damon unleashed, his fury painting the floor red.

Violence is only a means to obtain order, it can never be order itself. You may be powerful, but you are not a god. I am He who has a black heart, and a dark soul. I shall avenge those who have been wronged, and my vengeance upon those who wronged me shall shock the earth. I am Vengeance god Black Heart”

I lay him down just as headlights sweep over me again. Gunfire erupts. I snarl and leap onto the car, crushing metal, shattering glass, killing every man inside before they can scream twice. More cars. More men. All Valentino's men. I hear his frequency. His voice barking orders, demanding my death. I aim for his car. I smash through the roof, tear vampires apart with teeth and claws. Blood spraying hot across the snow. When I find Valentino, I drag him from the moving vehicle and hurl it aside just before it rolls off the cliff.

I fell to one knee, then the other, blood pouring from the wound. Valor withdrew, licking my blood from his lips with a look of sick pleasure. “Well,” he murmured. “That was disappointingly easy.” I tried to push up, but my muscles didn't obey. My vision tunneled and I hit the floor hard. Valor stepped over me like I was nothing. “Kill him,” Valor said calmly. “Rip out his heart. I want it displayed.” A vampire stepped forward, very big and muscular. His claws extended, reaching toward my chest.

Vance lets out a sharp, undignified shriek of agony, stumbling backward into his retinue as he cradles his bleeding face, his fingers instantly turning red with his own pureblood heat. The ballroom shatters into chaos. The Eastern fighters draw their silver-hilted daggers, but before they can take a single step, three hundred iron shields slam against the stone floor in a single, deafening thud that seals every exit in the keep. I stand in the center of the floor, my hand dripping with Vance's blood, the lavender mark on my neck flaring into a brilliant, permanent amethyst storm that incinerates the white glare of the hearths.

Very bloody. The dagger in Silvan’s grip gleams sharply as he lunges forward without hesitation. He moves with dangerous swiftness, thrusting the weapon into Dorothy’s chest, back and throat before she can put up a word of protest. My hand flies to my mouth, a useless barrier against the scream that bubbles up my throat. The camera jostles but holds its focus. Dorothy’s horrifying screams echo in the room as she crumpled to the floor in a sea of crimson. Blood, so thick it’s almost black, gushes from her throat and mouth as she jerks helplessly on the marble tiles.

Despite her vicious wound, she managed to catch the dagger from her waist and reach up with her other hand to stab the Firoque trying to cling to the blade, four separate times. He squealed in objection. His body going limp as it began sliding to the floor. But mustering the last of his strength in service to his master, he caught the dagger in her shoulder and took it with him, ripping it downward. Eliciting a pained shriek from her. No! Snarling, Dissues swept through the Cimmerii. Two large bark coated dogs charged him, and he kicked one aside, sending it skidding across the floor. A swing of his blade beheaded the other in a single strike. He jumped a third one charging and was at Nim’s