Fear The Old Blood Novels & Stories

His lips pulled back in a smirk and I knew, this was like some sick joke—a mockery of what I was. “Comfortable?” Orin’s voice broke through my thoughts as though he were asking about the weather. I didn’t answer. Instead, I stared at the metallic table, covered in blood, my kind’s blood. Sweat broke at the back of my neck as I felt fear trying to creep in, but I swallowed it down. I wasn’t going to show the old man that weakness.

I can't stop asking her. I know Shantelle's Grandma said something about my blood but I still don't fully understand. My brain couldn't even absorb what she was saying. "I think it's about your blood?" She said, I questioningly. "I don't know! I don't have a clue either. Let's just follow Grandma because what she said seems serious," she added. I just nodded. I don't know why that old woman is so serious. I still can't get over the bleeding in one of her eyes as if it was dangerous for a creature to see my life. "Let's go,"

He had been so arrogant and self righteous in his way of living, that anyone could wander in and out and never know they had stumbled quite literally into the wolfs den. I step out of the car and smell deeply with my nose. The faint trace of something familiar catches my attention and I remove my sunglasses inhaling further. "Brynor?" I turn to see my two companions exiting the car. Ivan and Gregor. All three of us are dressed in expensive suits. To the innocent bystander, we look like business men in our forties but at over six hundred years old, we are dangerous. Unlike measly humans who grow frail. Us older, more pure blood shifters are the opposite, getting stronger with age.

I whispered, the word feeling like a jagged piece of glass in my throat. She flinched. It was a small movement, but it spoke volumes. She slowly turned her head, and for the first time in my life, I saw fear in her eyes when she looked at me. It wasn’t the fear of a mother for her child; it was the fear of a woman looking at the person who had set her world on fire. “I saw it, Lisa.” Her voice was a flat, dead thing. No anger, no screaming—just a terrifyingly calm acknowledgment of the end of her life as she knew it.

Quenten Yilmaz: Blood. Violence. Gut-wrenching, paralyzing screams. They follow me everywhere, including in my sleep. It’s like a reel of snippets flashing before my very eyes. Splatters of blood paint the walls. Screams of terror intertwine and become a single, continuous harmony of devastation that rings in my ears. Flashing balls of light ignite in the dark as illuminated bullets slice through the air, hitting everything in their path. Men drop to the ground swiftly, followed by a hush of silence.

His parents attended an important dinner function at the Moonstar Hotel by the Bay View Area and they told them that they might come home late. A slight breeze blew from the West. Old folks used to tell in their bedtime stories by the fireplace that this is an ominous sign. They say that vile creatures hunt for their prey during these times. Mark knew all about this since he is an avid fan of mystery-horror stories. Yet he told himself a thousand times that evening these are just figments of his wild imagination. Nothing horrible is going to befall his parents. They are both good souls and God is watching over them from above.

Cammie saw me and smiled sweetly. "Hey, how are you feeling, seventeen?" she asked. I was so disappointed that her self-preservation totally failed around me. I tried to look back coldly. "Viv, you act like you're from Pluto," Alyssa tried to joke, but her voice had a tone of nervousness in it. Probably her subconscious was sorting out the warning incident last night. I've heard vampires could radiate fear through people's gut feeling. And I was expecting them to get the slightest inkling of danger from me.

Everything smells like earth and old blood. “What the hell just happened? What is going on?”