Combat Pass Bleach Novels & Stories

It hurts. "It's done now. You can open your eyes, ma'am." She announced and I fluttered my eyes opened immediately. I couldn't see clearly as tears had already clouded my vision. I wiped it away with my other palm. Removing the tissue in my mouth, I sighed in relief. It doesn't hurt that bad anymore. Christabel took care of it and she plastered it.

The many washes did not make my eyes any less red, but it made the tears stop and made my vision clear enough for me to see a bottle of bleach on the wood stand above the toilet seat. My hands trembled as I held the bottle in my hand, thinking over and over on the idea I had just conceived and the words I had said to Nana. ‘I get to choose how I die,’ I thought. If this did not kill me, at least it would kill the baby. I closed my eyes, opened my mouth wide and chugged down the bottle of bleach. The reaction took a few seconds, but I soon began to feel stings in my stomach. “Argh!” the pain increasingly got worse. I grabbed my stomach and staggered out of the bathroom, trying to get to the b

“Go on, darling. I’ll clean this up.” He leaned over his desk to pull out a container of wipes. I glared at him. “I thought you said you didn’t have wipes.” He laughed and turned the tube around. “I mean if you want to clean your vagina with bleach, be my guest.” He held out a wipe to me. “Here you go.” I pulled my shirt and bra up to flash him my breasts. “Asshole, now you can’t touch these.”

"Uh... bubblegum, a disassembled drone motor, a half-eaten sandwich, and... oh! The torpedo fuel!" She pulled out a canister she’d siphoned from the torpedo room earlier (because Hailey never walked past anything flammable without taking a sample). "It's Decalin," Hailey grinned. "Nasty stuff. Ignites on contact with strong oxidizers." "And cleaning supplies?" Jack asked. "Under the sink!" Olivia kicked open the cabinet under the galley sink. There were old glass bottles of industrial bleach and ammonia. "Don't mix those unless you want chlorine gas!" Ben warned. "We'll die too!"

The blue seal looks like it oozed reddish ink onto the page. I’m not holding a letter. I’m holding a murder weapon. “What?” Sash asks. “I just thought you might want to see it.” “Burning clove,” I mumble. “It’s a contact poison. You have to touch it, the sap, which looks reddish when distilled to full potency.”

He gaggled it, trying not to swallow but since he had been held down and his head kept in place, he couldn't throw it out. He ended up in a coughing git. “That was to warn you. That was water.” I dropped the can on the side and picked up the real can of bleach. “This is bleach. I'm sure you can tell.” As I opened the can, the smell filled the room and I saw the way his pupils shook when he smelt it. “Now will you tell me what I want to hear or you'd make me actually do this? I'm sure you know what this would do if I poured it down your throat. From your mouth, down your throat, to your stomach and then everywhere else.”

It looked like someone had tried to scrub it with bleach, but a deep maroon stain was still visible. Bates sat silently in the chair beside me, Dr. Witt standing behind him sterilizing the tool she was about to use to remove the medical staples from his scalp. There were five of the small, silver staples running vertically up the back of his head where it had split into a deep gash. He stared at the table as she gently pushed his head forward. "You should just feel a little tug," she warned him. He closed his eyes tight, wincing as she wiggled the first one loose. She placed it on a gauze pad that sat on the table next to her medical supplies

Blood smears across the carpet, dark streaks that'll never come out. Good thing this place sees worse things than murder. The bathtub is barely big enough, but I manage to fold him inside. His head lolls at an unnatural angle. I turn away, focusing on the next step. Bleach. Lots of it. The motel's supply closet is a joke—just cleaning rags and half-empty bottles. But there's enough bleach to burn away DNA. I pour it over everything: the carpet, the walls, the doorknobs. The chemical smell makes my eyes water.

They were meant to be nesting for Goddess sake. Then open some windows, I’m almost done. Opening a window isn’t going to help, it’s on everything you’ve touched on your way in, the door handles, the wall. It’s on the clothes you’ve taken off too Go outside then There’s bleach under the sink, Gaz ground out, taking his mates advice and heading outside. We are going the wrong way! Breeth snapped, smoke spewing from his mouth and nose. I promised our little mate she would be punished for such endeavours…

But the lemon smell is overpowered by the horrible scent permeating the room. “What’s that awful smell?” I say, waving my hand in front of my nose. “It sucks to have a sensitive wolf nose right about now,” Callan says. “This is bleach. It’s the only thing I could think of to get the bloodstains off the floor.” “Is Ethan okay?” I ask, sitting my backside on one of the chairs. “Other than a bad hangover, he’ll be fine by tomorrow.” Callan grabs a pink-stained towel and wipes the water and bleach from the floor.