Cormac Mccarthy Blood Meridian Novels & Stories

The entire horde followed right behind it, a twisting, writhing mountain of pale flesh and flashing fangs ascending toward the ridge. "Fire!" the mercenary commander screamed in absolute panic. The night exploded with muzzle flashes. High-caliber, silver-tipped ammunition tore into the ascending horde, but the blood-born didn't even slow down. The bullets sank into their pale, rubbery flesh with wet thuds, the wounds closing instantly as the black, ancient blood in their veins rejected the metal. A pale hand reached over the lip of the cliff. Before the commander could scream again, he was snatched by the throat, his heavy tactical armor snapping like plastic as he was dragged violently over

Eyes… deep crimson, the color of wine freshly spilled across marble. I didn’t just wake up in a different body. I woke up in a different world. And not just any world. One I knew far too well. I had read about this place before—in a book called Blood and Moonlight. A gothic fantasy where ancient vampire courts ruled the night from silvered palaces, where ruthless werewolf packs prowled the wild forests, and where an uneasy truce held between fangs and claws… until it inevitably shattered. It was a story of war. A story of betrayal. A story where love was as fatal as any blade.

Chapter Seven: The Girl in My House Ivy had never seen a house this big. She stood just inside the Sterling mansion, her small bag hanging from her shoulder as her eyes wandered across the enormous living room. Everything looked expensive—the polished marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, the furniture was plush and elegant, and massive paintings adorned the walls in ornate gold frames. She felt small and out of place, like a visitor in a world that didn't belong to her.

Cynthia was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment after she'd had a heart attack at a bar. When I arrived at the hospital, I happened to see a white cloth being used to cover Cynthia's head. Disregarding everything, I threw myself in front of Cynthia, trembling as I lifted the white cloth. I was engulfed in immense pain the moment I saw Cynthia's pale, lifeless face. It felt as if something in my head had collapsed, and a suffocating sensation lingered in my heart.

Dominic stood in his bathroom, and shaved before getting dressed in another black suit. He’d sat vigil the whole night, remembering odd things about Conrad. They were mostly horrific memories but there were a few good ones, mostly after Hunter and Gage were born and then also Inara. Mist had descended over the countryside. There was no wind, and the mist hung like a bad omen. Dominic’s SUV drove behind the hearse towards the city and the church where the funeral mass would be held.

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

Three steps away from me lay the machete on the ground, maybe he noticed what my instinct had told me, he ran towards me while I ran for the machete, he knocked me down with brute force but my struggling hands still stretched forward to grab the machete, I caught the handle, I could see him in front of me smiling wickedly. I pulled the machete then thrusted it upwards, piercing roughly through his ribs. He stared at me with surprise on his face, his body unwilling to act on his will. He slowly fell being soaked by the sticky blood which dripped from his ribs, he reached the ground, head first plunged before the other parts followed while my hands trembled roughly. My brains making crazy rhy

She turned away quickly, and I left after a while. The dead would remain dead, and as for me, I found myself genuinely unable to empathize. When I was young, I'd thought Harry was unapproachable and enigmatic. It turned out I'd held him in too high esteem. Anything involving Carrie was enough to crush him entirely. Over the next five years, I fought valiantly with the other shareholders to gain control of Thompson Group. My methods were ruthless—I knew neither boundaries nor morality. Some said I was born a predator.

The scent of blood was thick in the air long before we even reached the borders of Crimson Bridge, carrying on mountain winds that seemed to whisper of horrors. The metallic tang mixed with smoke and something else rotten and wrong that made my wolf recoil instinctively. The once-thriving pack territory lay in absolute ruin beneath a moon veiled in crimson clouds that seemed to weep tears of light across the devastation below. I tightened my grip on Kai's muscled arm as we stepped carefully into the aftermath, each footfall revealing new horrors that would haunt my dreams for years to come.

My hands refused to let go of the seat, my knuckles pale. Then the car turned down a winding road flanked with towering cypress trees, and my heart began to hammer. At the end of the road stood a massive wrought-iron gate, black and cold as the grave. It creaked open with agonizing slowness, as if daring me to turn back before it closed again. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Once the gates clanged shut behind us, I knew the truth, there was no way out.