Ink In My Veins Novels & Stories

A little web of black veins. The start of the poison.

Falling to my knees, I held my wrist as I watched with tears as it consumed my hand. The liquid ruby melted into my skin. It brought even more excruciating pain as I watched it seep under my skin and light up beneath. Traveling up my arms, it flowed through my veins. As it made its way through my veins, it hurt more and more as it spread across my chest. Gasping, I curled up with my head almost touching the grass. My fingers dug into my skin as I tried to claw at the burning liquid in my chest.

my voice broke just as the first tear broke from its dam and slipped down my cheek. He didn't hesitate. He plunged the needle into my vein and depressed the plunger. It felt like liquid fire was coursing through my veins and racing straight for my heart. I snapped my head back, my back arching into the chair with pain. Whatever was in that vial was meant to kill me.

I don’t know how long I’ve been here. I don’t know if Valeria and my kids made it out safely. Panic and anger are rising out of me in strong waves. Usually, I would feel Bronte rising up to the occasion in times like these, but to my surprise, I feel nothing. I don’t feel his presence in me at all. My heart starts to beat frantically. I look around me yet again, and my chest almost collapses when I see that there’s an IV bag attached to me through a needle in my arm. It’s expelling a purple liquid, which I know to be Wolfsbane.

Blood boils through my veins, heat flooding every part of me. That bastard set me up.

I especially loved to drink from this spot because it housed the internal jugular vein which brought fresh, sweet blood from the brain. Drinking from this particular spot was risky, if I became too fixated in my own pleasure, I could easily kill her by obstructing the blood flow through the internal jugular vein which would cause a backflow of blood into the brain, increasing intracranial pressure which summarily leads to brain damage and death within a few minutes but the thought of putting her life in danger by drinking from this spot while she moaned in pleasure, oblivious of my intentions brought me a certain type of excitement I found difficult to explain.

Sweat beads on his forehead, but it is the veins—those dark, serpentine lines crawling beneath the surface—that draw all eyes. They coil like a creeping vine, twisting and winding up from the wrists to the elbows, then slithering further towards the neck. Black and swollen, they pulse with an eerie rhythm, as if alive, as if feeding on the very essence of life within him. The darkness spreads like a malevolent plant devouring its host, snaking toward the heart, ready to choke out the final flickers of vitality.

I cringe as I hear the click of the trigger and then whimper as I feel the sting, followed by a low burning before it intensifies. As he lowers the gun, and lets go of my neck and he steps back, I realise that it must have been an injector gun. I don’t see him move and I don’t know what he injected me with, but it burned hot as it made its way around my body through my veins, forcing a scream from my lips. Not long after the scream leaves my lips, the burning pain disappears and my head starts to pound and a wave of weakness flows through me. I panic as I turn inward,

All I could see was her. She was a wreck. Blood crusted under her nose. A long gash torn down her side where the beast’s claws had caught her. Her face was gray and sunken, her lips cracked. And her arm… I pulled back her torn sleeve and my heart stopped. The black veins. I’d heard about them. I’d seen them on the dying at the gates. But I’d never seen them on her, and the sight of them tore something open in me. They’d spread far past her wrist, past her elbow, climbing up over her shoulder, dark and thick and pulsing faintly under her skin like something alive.

Lincoln's gaze returned to Conan's eyes "I noticed some red veins surfacing in my chest area, what does that mean??" Conan sighed deeply "Red veins in the chest area only occur when a vampire is heading for self-destruct, did you choose that.." "No" Lincoln cut him shut as he knew what he was about to say. Conan frowned even more "You not having any urges for blood is a problem, have you tried drinking blood??" He asked. "I did but it wasn't as tasteful as it should be!" Lincoln replied and rested his back on the chair. "And now I think there's a problem!"