Itachi Bleeding Eyes Novels & Stories

His hands were badly burned and unfortunately he wasn't healing. He was just like any ordinary human who doesn't heal at all.. His shirt was soaked in blood while his hand had been burned pretty badly.. He fell to his knees while trying to catch his breath as he coughed out a large amount of blood… “You can't give up yet, Nicklaus..” he reminded himself as he felt his Vision become blurry.. He shook his head to clear his vision as he breathed fast.. “Well ,well ,well…. I can't believe my eyes! The great Alpha supreme, the Slayer of demons and men had fallen to his feet..”

I say, squeezing his arm reassuringly, “I’m just pretty used to people wanting me dead by now. But onto the matter at hand, can you patch me up?” “Piece of cake,” he grins and escorts me to the living room. He helps me carefully sit down as I scrunch my face trying to will the pain away. “Just relax,” he instructs. He places one hand behind me and one hand in front of me and as I watch his hands glow a beautiful shade of purple, his rich brown eyes vanish to be blanketed by obsidian hiding all colour from his eyes except the glowing silver pupils that are at the centre of their black depths.

Blake spits blood, his eyes a milky violet lacking their normal luster, like he’s being drained minute by minute. “What are you hiding?” Hannibal continues, smoothing his hand over Blake’s forward when the light retreats. Blake lurches like he’s just come out of Hannibal’s magical grip and slumps forward, struggling for breath. Tears mingle with blood on his cheeks. So much blood. Hannibal’s torturing and killing him right in front of me. I don’t like Blake. I fucking hate the guy, but he doesn’t deserve to die like this.

he concludes with a small tear on his face looking at his face so sad that it breaks my soul to see him this way, I feel how everything moves so slowly but at the same time so fast that I don't realize what is happening or if I am just dreaming. The traitorous sword is thrust into his body, from his stomach to his sword completely staining his clothes with fresh blood and the sword draining. I can't believe it, my eyes open as if they want to come out of their sockets, tears flow one by one, the blood is so fresh that the smell of it permeates the air, time stands still in just that moment "Satoshi...", I get lost in Satoshi's cold eyes staring into my father's, my dear dad spitting his bloo

Like squeezing his head and he can't do anything, just feeling the pain, and it hurts so much he would cry. HE felt liquid falling from his eyes. Thou he knew he wasn't crying. It was a black liquid coming out from his eyes. He opened his eyes, and his vision was slightly covered by black blood. He could see his father standing at the side of the room. "Alkhun..." Alkhun opened his eyes.

Blood pours from the corner of his eye, thick and fast, sliding down his cheek like a crimson tear. I tilt my head, studying it like an artist appraising his canvas. Then I twist. Not fast. Not deep. Just enough to shred the muscle behind the eye. His whole body convulses. War doesn't flinch. He just stares—stone-still, jaw clenched, tracking every drop like he's memorizing it. Like he needs to see him suffer as badly as I do. When the eye finally collapses, leaking pulp and blood, I pull the pick free. It makes a soft, wet pop as it slides loose.

My heart pounded, my veins burned, and then the Eye turned against me. The powerful vision snapped shut. The backlash struck like a hammer. An invisible weight crushed me, hurling my body across the room. I slammed forcefully against the stone wall with a sickening crack. Air burst from my lungs, blood spraying from my lips as pain exploded through my ribs. "Ghh-" I gagged, my hand clutching my chest. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth, dripping down my chin. My vision swam, the world tilting in dizzying spirals. The Eye, once open, now left behind a searing scar within my mind, its whispers echoing faintly as if mocking me.

It was empty, except for a single drop of glowing, violet blood. Henry's blood. "Happy birthday, kid," I whispered. I swallowed the drop. The world didn't go black. It went purple. And for the first time, I heard the howling. Not from the forest. From inside my own head. "Doctor Scott?" the agent asked. "You okay? You’re bleeding from your eyes." I looked at him. I smiled. My teeth felt sharper than they had ten minutes ago. "I’m fine," I said. "Just a bit of a hangover."

The screaming in her marrow hushed. She opened her eyes. The room was blurry, a haze of grey and red. Dante was right there. His face was inches from hers. The Butcher. The man who had branded her mother and claimed her body. But the mask was gone. His obsidian eyes were swimming. A single, heavy tear escaped his lash, cutting a clean track through the grime and blood on his cheek. He was shaking. The iron man was vibrating with a raw, terrifying helplessness. "Dante?" she wheezed. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed broken glass.

"Run. You have to run." "No, I'm not leaving you!" I shouted, my tears finally blurring my vision as I cupped his chiseled jaw. "You're the Blackthorn Alpha. You don't fall. Fight it!" His eyes were open, but the pitch-black alpha dominance was fading fast, the pupils contracting as his vision blurred. The deep claw marks across his chest were bleeding heavily, the dark red blood pooling on my skin. He tried to speak, his jaw moving, but only a low, weak rumble left his throat before his eyes fully rolled back.