Carnage Black White And Blood Novels & Stories

The battlefield was painted in blood and shadow. The air tasted of iron and despair, thick with the smoke of burning timber and the acrid stench of supernatural flame. Rain had begun to fall not the gentle rain of mourning, but a harsh deluge that turned dust to mud and made the stones slick with a mixture of water and blood that pooled in every crack and crevice.

Then he gave a slow nod to his men. He looked at Sergio with unbridled hatred. "This isn't over, not by a long short. I will be back to claim what is mine." One by one, they backed off. Fading into smoke. Into retreat. ************************************************** The silence that followed was deafening. Rosana stood alone in the center of the destroyed hallway, her dress streaked with soot and blood. A shard of broken mirror leaned against the wall nearby, reflecting pieces of her—sharp, splintered, unrecognizable.

As I watched the car tear down the road, my heartbeat matched the speed on the screen. Then there was a loud bang. The driver jumped out to look. The footage shows two adults lying on the ground, and the victim's baby had been tossed a distant away. There was blood everywhere. It was so terrible that I almost couldn't watch. Charles and Freddie wiped at their eyes beside me. Then, unbelievably, Maeve said they weren't dead and backed the car up to run over them again. When the relatives saw that, they went completely berserk. "Charles! Freddie! I don't care who was driving. Kill them both!!

Warm, holy, powerful. The black mist sizzled and screamed as it touched the green light, then dissipated into nothing. The raging infected collapsed, the red blotches on their skin fading at a visible rate, their grotesque wounds beginning to heal. But this miracle came at a terrible cost. I could feel my life draining away. My vision blurred. My black hair bled to silver, then to a ghostly white, spreading from the roots like a fatal frost. It was the color of a life sacrificed.

I wiped it away with the back of my hand. Black blood. Not red. It was dark. Viscous. Shivering with absorbed energy. Void Sickness. "Not now," I gasped. The words scraped my throat like sandpaper. "Please, not now." My vision blurred. A kaleidoscope of grey and silver static. The hum of the lights grew deafening—a chorus of angry hornets swarming inside my skull. My knees gave out. I braced for the impact. The inevitable crunch of bone against stone.

Kaelen asked. He moved. He tore the soldier’s head off. The other soldiers screamed. They opened fire with live ammunition. Bullets hit Kaelen. They tore through his gray skin. Black blood sprayed onto the snow. He didn't stop. He was a whirlwind of death. He ripped limbs. He crushed skulls. He painted the white world red. I watched from the shadows. He killed them all. He stood in the center of the carnage. He was panting. He was bleeding from a dozen wounds.

I grabbed a match from the mantle and struck it. “What are you doing?” Silas roared, lunging for me. I dropped the match. The gilt-edged pages, soaked in the dry rot of twenty years, caught instantly. The secrets of the Ares empire—the murders, the bribes, the “Conditioning”—erupted into a wall of orange flame. “I’m clearing the site,” I said. Silas tackled me, the weight of him slamming me into the mahogany desk. We hit the floor, a tangle of limbs and fury. I felt the detonator fly from his hand, skidding across the floor toward the vault.

He looked like he was about to say something, but he was cut off when he started coughing violently. He spat out a mouthful of blackened blood. It made for a gruesome sight against the white carpet. Felix stared at the blood in disbelief before he jerked his head up to look at me. "Why?" I set my wine glass down and looked down at him from the tip of my nose. "I'm just fulfilling my responsibility as a mother." Felix's eyes widened when he finally registered my words. The wolfsbane worked quickly, especially since Felix had been caught completely off-guard. It didn't take long before he crumpled to the ground.

My skin looks much paler on a sunny day. I put my black glasses on my eyes and from distance watching my new victim. After a week I will be hungry again if I will not feed myself, madness will rule my body and I will turn into a zombie. It's the end of my consciousness. The only thing is left for me. I have a week. I must prepare my victim for his death, even if his blood is not very welcome to me. his blood is dirty, drugs and alcohol destroyed the smell and taste of it. Why he? Why not something purer, more tasteful for my tongue? But still, I chose him for some reason I can't describe. The black windows of my car are hiding me. This car isn't fancy or new but it isn't making any unwanted

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 19 𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑎..... 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑖... Katherine