Death Scream Bloody Gore T Shirt นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Her fingers trembled as they brushed the choker again. I fastened it around her neck with slow, deliberate movements. It fit perfectly — elegant, discreet, and deadly. The thin band of leather sat snug against her throat, the silver engraving **Grey’s Velvet** catching the low light. One wrong move, one attempt to run too far from the designated safe zone, and it would deliver a controlled but painful electric shock — enough to remind her who she belonged to without causing permanent harm.

Sisi whispered. The moment they came down to the second floor, the guard was already dead. Blood was spraying out from her neck, staining the wall. It was a female Badblood. She has two horns on her head and a rough face. Her arms were huge and solid, the muscles that fill her body was too much and almost disgusting to look at. Daren and Lukas have weapons on their hands, a sword and a spear, while Viktor has a cute dagger with flower embroidery on the hilt.

The heat around him woke him up, he was drenched in his sweat from fear and of course, heat. Dordin wasn't in a good state of mind, he didn't have time to figure things out because Generosasis had just released fire on her sister, the smell of burning flesh filled the air, this time, the people already knew things were about to get ugly and that was when they got scared. Really scared." Mrs Grassroots paused, sipping the bottle of water in her left hand.

She then looked at at him as she exclaimed, "How dare you!" "It's your surname though!" She slapped his arm and for a moment he lost control of the car but quickly recovered. "Shit..." Ashleigh breathed out as Damien chuckled nervously. "Sorry." "I swear if I died I would've killed you!" "How would you do that when you're dead?" "I'll possess you and make you commit suicide." Damien gave her a look. "Thats dark woman." "I love you too."

He held his silver-coated machete loosely at his side, the blade dripping black golem ichor onto the expensive rug. Tate was next. She looked small between us, drenched to the bone, her hair plastered to her skull. But she held the Kyanite Heart against her chest like it was a grenade she was waiting to throw. And then... me. I walked in last. My suit...charcoal grey Italian silk, tailored to perfection...was ruined. It was stiff, soaked heavy with a dark, viscous red. It wasn't my blood. It was the blood of the twelve men I had dismembered in the crypt. It painted my hands like gloves. It splattered my white collar. It dried in flaking crusts on my cheekbones.

I put the gun against the back of his head as he bent down to retrieve Dillinger’s gun. “Down,” I said and he went flat on the ground. I put the Jericho back in the holster and took the Karambit out. I pulled his head backward and brought the knife slowly to the front. “Jericho,” he groaned. “The Karambit, best damn slicer in the world,” I said and cut his throat. The gaping wound made gurgling sounds as his breath escaped through his windpipe and I let his head fall forward. I wiped the blade on his shirt and put it back on my belt holster.

She tiptoed towards him, leaned forward and looked over his shoulder and gasped in fright, breaking his concentration. He quickly spun round and hugged her face to his chest to stop her from seeing the ghastly sight before them but it was too late. She had already seen it. A skeleton with bits of clothing on it in tatters and a huge part of it's skull missing. On it ring finger, it wore a gold ring with De Luca written on it.

Dhampir Silas replied politely with folded hands. Dhampir Silas Noah is the guardian of the coven and Ace Denzell's bodyguard. He has black eyes with pale skin and wears a mask made of leather with teeth as sharp as knives. On the back of his neck, there is a Molinija tattoo mark, which looks like two streaks of jagged lightning crossing in an 'X'. This tattoo is only given to a dhampir who has killed a Strigoi. "Where is the queen?" Rook Theia asked.

The wedding for the vampires allowed the bride to wear dark color and Mila specifically chose black, because she knew that the color would be a stark contrast with her hair, but she didn’t know that she would pull the dress so beautifully like this. “Do you think so?” Mila asked, as she twirled in front of the mirror, she looked at her skin and was grateful to these servants that all the hickeys had gone and she was no longer covered by that dark, red mark, since her dress was backless and showing so much skin. It would be a disaster for Mila if they couldn’t remove that. Mila really needed have a good talk with Liam and maybe a punch or two on his face for giving her ra headache like that.

"Ms. Garcia, I've lived through hell tonight. Do I look like I'm in the mood to joke?" With that, he stormed up to her, yanked open his bloodstained shirt, and revealed the gaping wound across his chest. The flesh was torn wide, bloody and mangled, and the skin around the gash had gone a sickly, rotting green. The sight alone made several people recoil.