Guide Is Thicker Than Blood Novels & Stories

Just enough to relive the pain within. The blood welled up slowly, beading along the line in tiny drops that caught the light. It was a strange color up close—darker than you'd expect, almost brown at the edges. I watched it form, one drop at a time, and I breathed. In. Out. In. Out.

The silence inside the subterranean cell was heavy enough to crush bone. Alpha Killian remained completely motionless, his towering, muscular frame cast in sharp, jagged shadows by the flickering torchlight outside the iron bars. His dark gaze was glued to the floor, tracking the slow, agonizing drip of my blood. On the grey dirt, the crimson fluid didn't pool like a normal wolf’s. It separated, a shimmering, liquid gold swirling through the red like oil in water, glowing faintly against the cold stone.

Thalia's POV ​The thick torrent of blood dripping from my chest struck the cold stone floor, instantly igniting the dormant, ancient blood magic runes carved into the labyrinth. ​I froze, staring down in absolute shock as the vibrant crimson fluid flowing from my body refused to simply puddle on the ground. Instead, the blood moved as if it possessed a dark, sentient life of its own. It slithered with terrifying speed across the rough, cracked stone, perfectly filling the deep grooves of ancient, prehistoric runes that had remained buried under centuries of dust and neglect.

My team went to work and I was set to cut through his chest. "I need suction to be ready before I cut. We need to control the building so his blood pressure doesn't drop any lower." One of my team members stood beside me with the suction tool ready to be used. I cut through his skin and went through the second layer, suction went in until I was able to see the thinned wall that was in bad shape and needed some help. But then, I noticed something else. It wasn't just the thinned wall that was the issue. Something else was going on.

"I have to take this off, and I'll be right back." When she turned and stepped to the back of the `van,' I did notice that she had an amazingly full, well-shaped ass. Jets of vapor shot from the wall, completely engulfing her, and after a few seconds, she stepped out of the cloud and I was shocked to see that she was green! "As you can see," she said, "our metabolism is more like the vegetation of your world in that our blood is based on chlorophyll rather than iron, as yours is."

I work with it every single day. I know the difference between fresh and old, arterial and venous, the way it changes when adrenaline is high or when the body is already giving up. Recognizing it wasn’t hard, my body reacted before my mind did. Blood doesn’t lie, It doesn’t flirt neither does it exaggerate. It tells you exactly how much time you have left. As I walk to get a clearer view the scent grows stronger now, heavier, pooling somewhere it shouldn’t be, I already knew whatever was bleeding out there wasn’t just a scrape or a drunken fall.

Fiona spat, "You've lost, but you can't accept your defeat gracefully, can you?" Harper argued stubbornly, "You guys must have cheated! How could there be no blood?" Larissa spoke nonchalantly, "Blood would only flow out after three seconds following a vessel rupture in cold-blooded animals. As long as you take photos and suture it back within three seconds, there won't be any bleeding. Don't you know the content on page 87 of the anatomy textbook?"

The silver needle had a groove at its head that held a drop of the assistant’s blood on it when it was retrieved. Then...

His head whipped to me, "What?!" I wiped the blood off surrounding his wounds then pressed on one side so the poison would leak out more, and it did to which I sighed in relief because it means that the poison has yet to fully enter in his bloodstream. The substance has a slime-like texture instead of liquid which, again, is a relief!

All of it was interesting. The healer's assistant proved the most useful of the three. He'd been present the night Orion tended her wounds, and he remembered, vividly, once properly compensated for his memory, the color of her blood under firelight. Not red. Silver-threaded, faintly luminous, wrong in a way he hadn't dared mention to anyone until I made it worth his while. "Wolves don't bleed like that," he'd said, and I'd agreed, and paid him enough to guarantee his silence toward everyone but me.