Fushimi Castle Blood Novels & Stories

"Time to Make my Dream come true!!…Vibrant Scape of a Thousand Cherry Blossom...….This is awesome~…" Immersing myself in the act, as soon as I do the pose, the entire blade of Head Hunter disappear as I release it into the ground. Just like what happen in the anime, a row of thousands Head Hunter blade appear to my right and left then disperse into a scenery of a cherry petals flowing in the air. But There's a distinct difference between my Technique and the one in anime, instead of pink petals, mine was blood red, which is quite beautiful and scary at the same time, there's also a lingering sweet smells in the air. Still I was quite happy with the result, I love a technique that allow you t

The shadow’s voice echoed in her mind. Blood spurted out as Nozomi yanked her hand out. Before Nozomi’s blood could spill further, the wound started to close, like time was being reversed. “Wait. No. No. Wait, wait, wait! No! UNFAIR!” The shadow started to throw a tantrum while Nozomi’s gaze was naturally drawn to Hikaru. “No. Please, no.” There was already blood trickling down Hikaru's head and out of his mouth. Now, more blood mysteriously soaked his shirt from the centre of his torso.

Moonlight spilling through gaps in the twisted iron trellis, painting ghost-patterns on the path. I wasn’t supposed to be out here. The guards had been clear about “no unaccompanied walks after dusk,” but I’d convinced myself it didn’t count if I stayed within the castle walls. Besides, the moonlight was too pretty to resist, and after being stuck in my chambers all afternoon with a lecture on “proper etiquette for vampire royalty,” I needed air. So there I was, crouched beside a particularly dramatic cluster of black roses, trying to see if they smelled like regular roses or something more “bloodthirsty chic,” when a voice drifted from the shadows.

“We already know the answer to that, don’t we, Xena?” I let him have his moment. For now. And just like that, our world shifted. Not with war. Not with blood. But with a single vow, sealed beneath a Venetian sky.

I heard a crackling sound of broken glass, then my nose wrinkled as I smelled the delicious scent of blood dripping on the floor. “Elizabeth!” My father ran towards her, but something possessed me. Before my father was able to reach my unconscious mother, I ran towards her in a swift movement and sank my teeth into her bloody hand. My enraged father grabbed my shoulders and attempted to pull me away from my mother's already limp body, but the beast in me would not concede. I ferociously shoved him and continued on drinking my mother's blood to the last drop.

The reason for the fight between the Corpse Pavilion and Thousand Leaves Pavilion seemed to be nothing after what happened! In the blood world where Fane was in, he had a black sword in his hand and looked like an undefeatable pine tree standing in this world filled with blood. One another another, the corpse puppets dropped dead around him. Their black blood pooled into a small river and circulated around Fane with a swooshing sound. There was still some black blood on his sword and the blood dripped down drop by drop following the edge of the sword.

Being elite manslaughter, Mort and his team eliminate the foes in just a matter of seconds. Sumire was weakened, fall on her knee, and could hardly stand in the middle of the pool of blood and mutilated corpses clasping her throbbing chest when Mort scooped her from the floor. He carried her in a bridal style and she encircle her arms around his neck. Sumire buried her face in his chest and from there, an orb of tears escape from her eyes. Mort, on the other hand, felt her cold hands and her body trembled even though she look so serene in the middle of chaos earlier. The maiden sobbed in silence that his suit get soaked and he felt the hot tears streaming down his chest. Jaw-clenched, his co

He has one fist on the ground and he is fighting it with everything he has, with the specific absolute unwillingness to yield of a man who was taught before he was old enough to question it that yielding and failing are the same word. He is losing that argument with his own body. His fist is shaking against the ground. He looks up when I reach him. His eyes find me. He has never seen my wolf. He has never seen the Moonblood. The silver light that is coming from somewhere inside my chest and moving outward through my fur, through the air between us, through the cold of the clearing that suddenly feels less cold than it did a moment ago. He looks at me with an expression I have never seen on h

"I am. Because you made me one, remember?" She looked defeated. Broken. The fire that had burned in the hospital wing had gone out, leaving her small and fragile and trapped. Good. That's what I wanted. So why do I hate it? I pulled the ceremonial dagger from my belt, the one used for pack oaths, and sliced my palm without flinching. Blood welled, dark and rich, and her eyes fixed on it with that strange hunger I had seen in vampires before. But different. She looked hungry and horrified at the same time, like she was fighting herself.

Time was a cruel thing, moving too fast when you wanted it to stop and too slow when you needed it to pass. I stayed at that window until the first rays of dawn painted the horizon pink and gold. Somewhere in the castle, a horn blew. To the wolves it sounded majestic but to me it sounded like dread. The Blood Hunt had begun. I gripped Von's wooden bird tighter, feeling it cut into my skin, and watched as the hunting party assembled in the courtyard below. Wolves in human form, weapons gleaming, faces eager with anticipation. And at their center, dressed in black and radiating lethal grace, was Kaelen.