Combat Pass Bleach Novels & Stories

From its belly, a familiar figure emerged, Blanche, dressed in her signature white tactical gear, silver visor gleaming. “You called, lovebird?” she said in her clipped British accent. Julian grinned through the blood. “I need a miracle.” “You always do.” She handed him a case. “The EMP you requested. You’ve got sixty seconds. Then it wipes every neural drive within range.” He ran. Back in the Hall Alma stood over ARES, panting. He bled from the corner of his mouth, but his smile had returned. “You’re stronger than I expected.” “No,” she said. “I’m just finally awake.”

My eyes widened as I saw Achilles, lying on the floor looking in extreme pain, his hand on his chest and coughing aggressively. I ran over to him immediately. My breath quickened. “God–Achilles, what—what…” I looked at a bottle of bleach kept beside him. Gasping, I stood up and ran around to find water. Picking up a one-litre bottle, I rushed back and forcefully put the bottle in his mouth. He opened his mouth and started drinking it. “Oh god, Y-You’re gonna be fine,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say before getting up and calling 911 immediately.

Taking a nervous breath I step over it, as I do the salt, the mountain ash and the glue burns to a crisp, breaking the barrier and allowing us to leave. But just as I look up to smile at Baylee I hear a gun go of, my heart freezes in fear as a small bullet flies across the room hitting the purple barrier surrounding Baylee, i hold my breath as it bounces of the purple glow and it hits me in the chest, the metal melts immediately but my temper rises.

[Loaf of bread *1: refills stamina; holds off hunger for 20 hours—8 points. [Valenex *1: stops bleeding; eases pain on contact—20 points.] She scrolled to weapons and found every kind of firearm imaginable, some with extra damage or improved accuracy. Each one looked amazing, but the prices were steep. She only had 26 points. Hayley eyed the shop and found herself looking forward to the next raid on her territory. Her monitor then beeped again. She walked to the computer and watched the dusk settle outside. Several large vehicles had pulled up just beyond her camera range. Infrared showed a group climbing out and clearing the nearby zombies.

His hand clutched my neck fiercely, I could see black spots at the corners of my eyes as my air circulation was cut off. A part of me wanted to give up and just let him have his way, at least I’d be alive by the end of it. But then my eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of an open bottle of bleach, just slightly out of my reach.

Then, making it look as if I'm snaking my arm back around his neck, I position it at the base of his skull. "I love you," he breathes out as he looks into my light-brown eyes with his dark ones. "Ahh!" I moan out seductively. He smiles and attacks my neck, kissing and biting the skin. And then I inject him. The needle is far too small for him to realize that something is stabbing him, and I squeeze the concentrated bleach into his neck. All I had to do was find it in the cleaning closet. Elementary really, considering my life-long training to kill.

My voice came out weak. - I don't know if I can open it. - Confessed. I put the bottle back in place, carefully. - Are you going to destroy my cellar? - He asked. I placed my hand on his chest, moving slowly down the soft, over-scented skin with so much soap on it. When my fingers passed the navel, I asked: - Maybe I should disinfect it with bleach? - Don't even play... I don't doubt you at all. - Why “two” women?

The first hit made it buckle and the second cracked it open. The gas poured into the room as soon as the door gave way. I snatched a napkin from the drawer and soaked it with iodine, pressing it over my nose as I held my breath, dulling my sense of smell. When I stepped out, I saw Jericho struggling to breathe beneath Algae’s grip. Algae had shielded him but was now lying unconscious. “Don’t… let her die,” Raid rasped, coughing up blood. He began tearing off his clothes and I knew exactly what was coming.

Every second that ticks by is another chance for someone to walk in, to see this nightmare. I stumble toward the kitchen, my legs unsteady, the pain in my head a constant drumbeat. The linoleum is cold under my bare feet, and I brace myself against the counter, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. I need to clean this up little by little before they arrive, at least enough to buy time until he and his crew arrive. I yank open the cabinet under the sink, pulling out a bottle of bleach, a sponge, and a pair of rubber gloves. My hands tremble as I slip the gloves on, the rubber snapping against my wrists. The smell of bleach stings my nose as I pour it onto the sponge, the liquid sloshing ov