Drip Drip Drip Story Novels & Stories

His lips cracked. His throat burned. Every breath scraped through him like dry sand. But there was water. Dirty. Cold. Tainted. He drank it anyway. The boy who once cried, would have begged. Would have screamed. Would have called for his mother. For anyone. For help. But that boy was gone. What remained— Endured. Rain began to fall again. At first, it came in soft drops. Then harder. Heavier. It poured into the well, soaking him completely, filling the pit around him until the water rose against his body.

Rendering the protection above useless. I could barely sleep. I was irritated. The drip continued all night. Every few minutes: Drip, drip, drip. Moving the bucket up and down because the eyesore, that was the stain, kept spreading. I was irritated. Not by Miguel. No. Not by his voice. No. Not by the kiss. No. Not by the way he looked wounded when I rejected him. I wanted to convince myself so badly that I was irritated by the water. By the drip. Yes, by the sometimes rhythmic drips of water entering the bucket. Not the state I had found myself in. An aspiring nun. A bride of Christ? Life’s biggest joke.

Just perfect. I lay there in soaked clothes, staring at the ceiling. “Alright, universe,” I muttered. “I get it. I’m your favorite joke.” --- Day Two I woke to the sound of dripping. Lots of dripping. The rain had returned, and apparently, so had my roof’s midlife crisis. A small waterfall was now streaming directly onto the living room couch. I put a bucket under it. Then a pot. Then another. When those filled, I used a mixing bowl.

My body falls and that is the last thing I remember. *_* Drip. Drip. Drip. I hear the water drops dripping and my eyes flutter open. A searing pain in my head makes me flinch and I groan. I feel the blood dripping down my head and I try to use my hand to wipe it off, only to find them tied. I try to free my hands from the bondage but the rope is secured very tightly and everytime I try to move my hands, the rope digs into my skin and burns me.

RPOV—One Month Later A raindrop landed on my window. I pressed my finger to the glass that separated us, tracing its path as it clumsily slithered down. It collided with other raindrops along the way; however, that only drew it closer to its fall. Before I realized it, my finger ran out of glass to glide on, and the raindrop vanished, now replaced by its brethren that fell from the depressing sky. "Wouldn't it be wonderful, if we could disappear and be forgotten as easily as raindrops?"

Not even one, so knowing that an Alpha was looking out for me was too much for me and I couldn't quite take it. My eyes returned to the black witch in front of me when she spoke again. "As I said, we've been looking for you for months, it started when the intoxicating fragrance of Moon Drip once reached Alpha Baristo. He immediately ordered his wolves to find where it came from but we were disappointed because the smell suddenly disappeared. But Alpha Baristo was so persistent, so he mobilized even us witches to help in the search. And we were not mistaken that we could find you here. The Cohen who possesses the Moon Drip— the sacred power of the blue moon."

I even intend to find Frey no matter how many days it takes. An hour passed, and the train to Daffodil town was about to depart. I got onto the passenger platform and sat by the window. The train was very quiet. The reason is the same as the reason I moved towards Daffodil town. Daffodil was a town that did not have strict laws like Linnea town. Life in that town is more concerned with freedom. A suitable place to hide from the pursuit of the Flower Skull. But not only that. I still have reasons to choose that city as my destination.

Katherine’s POV The sound of water dripping from a tap or faucet burrowed deep into my subconscious until I couldn't get it out. It was always constant and that was what woke me up. Drip. Drip. Drip. I rocked back and forth as I tried to get my bearings. It was dark and smelled musty like an old foam, and even with my advanced vision I wasn't able to see farther than a couple of feet in front of me. It slowly started coming back to me…how I made myself sleep off to ward off the exhaustion.

A red stain spread across the front of my dress and a single drop of blood slid down my leg, then another, until they fell to the floor with a sickening rhythm. Drip. Drip. Drip. The blood pooled beneath me, vivid and stark against the polished hardwood. “No,” I whispered, my voice breaking. My knees gave out, and I sank to the floor, my trembling hands hovering over the pool of blood. “No, no, no… This can't be happening!...

Dilip Raghuvanshi had vanished. The storm clouds rumbled over Dilip’s head. He crawled through the dense trees into the methane lake and was swimming vigorously into the hot simmering liquid. He felt like a toad in boiling water and kept sinking to the bottom. He would rise with extreme effort with every inch of his will power, take deep breath and let sink again. He held his breath for fifty seconds, then, like a man on fire, jumped out of the bottom and fell flat on the shore. A diamond fell from the sky. Dilip mustered the last ounce of energy he had and rushed under a tree. He was sure the dwarf had heard him run. His thighs burned and he felt dizzy. With one last effort, he crossed the