Kiss The Blood Off My Hands Novels & Stories

I hissed, agitated about the way his smell enveloped me He hummed, like he didn't hear what I said to spite him, then, without warning, he raised his hand and bit down on his thumb his blood, welled up—red, stark against his pale skin, I stood there transfixed, unable to take my gaze off him, He brought his thumb to my lips, pressing it against my mouth. My breath hitched. Sparks ignited where his fingers brushed my skin, the sensation making me itsy, Without thinking, my lips parted. His blood slipped onto my tongue and a shudder ran through me.

Her small fingers were still idly tapping against my chest, matching the slow, agonizing rhythm of my own heartbeat. "Maddie,..." I whispered into her hair, my voice cracking entirely. "Please. Just look at me once." She didn't move. Her lips parted, and in that same flat, terrifying monotone, she whispered to the dark, "The man with the blood hands is crying. Does the blood hurt?"

Everyone is scared of you. He stood up with fury and anger on his face, he glared at her. The confidence that was in her face earlier disappeared. Gossesbumps crept up her skin as he walked towards her, she walked backward forgetting the pool behind her. 'You are all liars, you don't know anything!' He pushed her into the pool; he didn't care; the teacher didn't want to listen, he said he had enough, then he walked away from the pool and stopped just before he turned, his face had changed, the anger and fury had disappeared; he heard jerking and kicking; she was drowning!

" Damiano hesitated once more. He looked at me, and I met his gaze through my tears. In the past, he would've given in at the mere sight of my tears. But this time, he closed his eyes, his voice cold and unyielding. "Resume the extraction." My heart broke right then and there. A second later, a far more intense wave of current tore through me, forcing my body to arch against the restraints. It felt as if my stomach was being violently torn apart. Blood began to seep down my leg, but nobody in that room cared.

A metallic taste hits my tongue and I push my hands away to see it dried with blood. Mike's blood. A sob breaks out as I watch my fingers quiver. Emotions whirl on my inside one after the other and in the next moment, I find myself wiping my hands on the pants to clean the blood, but it won't just come off. Another sob. Why won't it come off? My chest tightens and I can feel my heart rate slowing down. Why the hell won't the blood come off?? “Mike, please.” I break down. ••••

She nodded her head. I made a small slash at my wrists and watched my blood begin to pool around the wound. Arisa reached for my wrist gingerly. She slowly brought it to her lips and began drinking. A shudder passed through me as she drank my blood. A second later she pulled away. Her eyes had tints of red in them, proof of the bonding process.

If I don’t do something now, she’ll be gone. My hands tremble as I lift them to my lips. I bite down hard until I taste my own blood, the metallic tang flooding my mouth. Then I lower my head to Lydia, letting a drop of my blood slip between her lips. I guide it down with a kiss, feeling my soul tremble.

Behind me, the room was silent. "I cannot choose," I said softly, but in the breathless stillness my words carried. "You each own part of me that I cannot reclaim." I turned my palms upward. "My blood, freely given, is all I have left to offer. Will you share it?" I extended my hand. After an endless moment, Scar moved first, pulling a dagger from his belt. He drew the blade across his palm and clasped my hand tightly. Blood mingled. Hunter silently grasped my other hand and repeated the gesture. Lastly Frost took the dagger and cut his own palm, pressing it to mine.

I called in pain, but he didn't ask, he stretch his bleeding hand to me. Lick them off. Was he asking me to have his blood again, I have no idea why he asked that of me, if licking every blood off his skin will give him the strength to climb off this place then I will gladly do it. I pulled his arm to lick it. Not there but here. That was when I realized it was the blood coming from his hand, not the worthless blood of those wolves that he had to slay I lower my head and lick off the blood from his wound.

It pounded continuously, bouncing against my cupped palm. "I will not be nicer next time," I promised and let go of his heart, removing my hand from his chest. "Now, get lost before I change my mind quickly." He glared at me for a split second in pain and defeat. The next one, he disappeared through the door and was lost. I looked at my right hand and sighed. The day was so young, and I already had blood on my hands, literally. I washed my hand in the kitchen sink, eradicating every drop of blood from it.