Doors Blood In The Streets Novels & Stories

the real underbelly of this shithole club, where bets turned to blood and fights bled into fucks that left scars. The door swung open with a creak, and he shoved me inside, the dim red bulb overhead casting bloody shadows on the concrete walls. It was a sparse space; a stained mattress in the corner, coils of rope hanging from hooks, a table littered with bottles of lube, knives, and God knows what else. The air reeked of old cum and stale smoke. Rocco kicked the door shut behind us, the lock clicking like a death knell. 'Strip,' he ordered, releasing me only to cross his arms, his naked body looming, muscles still pumped from the adrenaline.

I walk towards the front door and pull it open and step outside. I walk barefoot in the street. My long white nightie blows gently around my ankles. The streets are deserted. That is strange. I walk around the corner and the smell of blood and smoke becomes stronger. My heart races in my chest as I gasp, covering my mouth as I see bodies littering the street. I pull my hands back and see they are dripping with blood. I look down at my white nightie. And the front is red and so is the hem. What have I done?

“Then we’ll give them something else to fear.” Darius crossed his arms. “You’re not alone anymore, Ava. Let the gods tremble.” Marcus gave a slow nod. “Let them come.” The seer placed a gentle hand on Ava’s shoulder. “Then it begins. The countdown to the blood moon. The war of old blood and new.” Ava looked toward the dark sky beyond the chamber’s stone ceiling, her eyes steady, her voice clear. “Let the gods watch. I was born of dusk and twin blood… but I will rise as something they never foresaw.”

I say on her couch, looking at her sleepy form, her cheeks were wet from her tears. I'm about to shed a human's blood and paint it on the streets of New York City.

My veins felt like ice was running through them, and my body began to shiver. "Your blood is intoxicating,” he said, his eyes opening. If I thought they were read before, now they were crimson. “Now I see why Darick has been keeping you all to himself…But that's about to end since you're coming with me. You can be my personal blood bag, and when I'm done with you, I'll send you back to Darick, piece by piece." His laugh was maniacal and sounded like a horror theme, making the hairs on my neck stood on end.

William gasped. The streets of Zhedan were filled with blood. Mutilated bodies lay everywhere. William looked around hauntedly, not believing what was happening. - No! This didn't happen! - The brunette clasped his head in his hands. A metallic smell filled my nostrils. The young man stared at his own hands, which were covered in blood up to the elbows. - I did not want! – the young man shouted, recoiling from his double. Tears flowed from eyes the color of a moonless night. - I didn't want this!

While offering more money will probably work on a street thug or mercenary, I’m the one he’s dealing with, so he’s shit out of luck. He’s starting to get angrier, and I can see his body preparing itself to try and attack me. Sometimes it’s almost boring how predictable these people are. With one hand still holding Crimson to his neck, I pull the bright red 7” metal spiked stiletto from my duffle bag, and before he can make a move to even attempt to disarm me, I jam the heel directly into his carotid artery. His eyes widen in horror and his hands instinctively reach up to his neck to where the shoe is now protruding from as I watch on with a blank expression on my face.

TAWNY I wiped the blood and sweat from my brow in an over-exaggerated movement. I was beaten, tired, overwhelmed, exasperated; as many words, as you can find to explain how broken a will and resolve was - I was it. The sun was peaking over the horizon, the red glow in the sky reflecting the blood that drenched the streets of Cambiador. The aftermath of the carnage I stood amongst, was unimaginable. The streets ran red with blood that was slowly being absorbed by the dry dirt. I looked up to Mason, hoisting yet another body over his shoulder and placing it in the bed of the truck, with the others.

Kind of hard to ignore," he replies. We are in silence crossing the limits of Fort George, crossing the Upper East Level the scenery in the window is changing with the huge buildings of the concrete jungle. Lots of people in the streets, the sky is unexpectedly clear, and the streets start to fill up with traffic jams. - Right. I turn, watching Giacomo with his hands on the steering wheel, scrutinizing me at the red light. "What does necessarily mean?" “Blood Angel is supplying weapons to another family within NY. - I answer, going back to looking at people through the window.

I knew his words were true. The Old World Neratomay didn't trust American vampires. Yep, even in the vampire world America didn't always get respect. They thought we were young and troublesome with our high profile vampire wars and continuing battles. Wars like those between the Bloods and the Crips were actually two rival vampire factions. And of course there were those hits on notorious and high profile human blood donors who didn't die from their impossible wounds. One such case was where a famous rapper had been shot several times and still lived. That incident was heard by an Elder level tribunal, and the rapper was forced to give up his fame and live in the underground where he still t