La Mujer Del Flujo De Sangre 소설 & 이야기

Panic surged through me, and I looked around, searching for any sign of life, anything that could explain this nightmarish place. That’s when I saw her. A woman, standing waist-deep in the blood. Her long red hair clung to her back, soaked and dripping with the same crimson liquid that surrounded us. She was crying, her sobs echoing in the vast emptiness, but there was something horribly wrong with her tears. They were blood.

Then, she lets out a cry of pain. And clutches her belly. My stomach twists into itself. But that’s not enough. “Elena,” Mira starts to say, and that’s when I see it. Flowing between her legs, blooming on the hem of her long dress. Blood.

The priestess was visibly anxious, as she watched the wood destroy itself under the embrace of every flame, whose reflections spread on the clear surface of the water. Suddenly one of the two elderly women spasmed and began to fumble in search of air. The priestess turned suddenly to look at her as before their eyes the woman's throat opened into a large cut, like that of the girl, and blood began to flow from her throat. The woman fell to her knees while holding her neck with her hands, only strangled sounds came out of her throat. Slowly the woman collapsed to the ground, a pool of blood began to build up around her, as she exhaled her last breaths. The priestess looked at her with wide ey

*Cough* Blood erupted from the woman's mouth as she tried to gather all the miasma that came from the cursed jar she was holding in her hands. As the evil spirits invaded her body, breaking it from the inside so violently, a bitter smile escaped on her pale, moon like face. 'Heh.. I am foolish until the end, huh?' *Cough* *Cough* Blood kept erupting from her soft lips as the cursed jar finally shattered to pieces. The woman fell to the ground, her eyes stared at night sky. There were no stars and the sky looked eerie and gloomy. It fit with her own situation.

the purple spiked leaf entered my mind, "before we could begin to see what was wrong. She-... She is a human, correct?" "Yes... why? What is wrong with her?" I asked carefully. "It seems we can not recognize her blood. It is as though her body is rejecting it. I just wanted to confirm due to..." he gestured towards me. Due to my circumstances is what he meant. "Yes, she is definitely human." I thought of the smell of her blood, definitely human. "How do you-?" "He smelled her blood." Veronica answered Arron. "You can tell by smelling her blood?" The Doctor asked shocked. "How?"

I asked. "We have been ordered to move you to the Blood service quarters,' they said looking, sad. There was no way this was a good thing. I could not be surrounded by Bloods. I was a Moon. They were my betters. "On whose orders?" I asked. "Mine," A harsh female voice said, coming from behind me. I turned around to see a middle-aged woman with blond hair. She used to be the wife of our packs Delta until they killed him along with my father. She had a harsh voice, but she was a loving woman.

The Riftfire in Lena’s veins surged, responding to the woman’s presence like a long-lost tether being pulled taut. “No.” Lena shook her head. “You can’t be—” The woman lifted a hand, and Lena’s body locked in place. Not through force. Not through magic. But through blood. A connection deeper than thought, older than memory. Lena’s vision blurred as images flooded her mind— A woman standing at the edge of a storm, violet flames curling around her fingers. A voice whispering a name she had long forgotten. A hand pressing against her forehead, leaving behind something more than a memory.

I rubbed my temples and looked at the two of them. Ever since Colby had dragged me into the first livestream, I had been feeling deeply unsettled. Now, I just felt like a lamb to their slaughter. Feeling strongly uneasy, I gripped the blanket beside me and could hear another woman's faint moans from the room next door. Fear crept up my spine as I sat up and asked, "What are you doing here? It's late, and I need to go home." Instead of answering, Colby switched on the TV. The screen flickered to life, showing a woman with seductive, half-lidded eyes, whom I recognized as me.

Red light pulsing above like a warning heartbeat. Voices leaked through—clipped, mechanical. “…pressure dropping…” “…keep going, the beta’s daughter needs her kidney!!” I didn’t knock. I drove both palms into the center of the doors. They flew inward with a sound like breaking bone. The operating room stopped breathing. A small woman lay open on the table—ribs parted, blood dark and spreading beneath her like spilled wine. Machines shrieked in protest. A scalpel hung suspended in a gloved hand.

The air in the room vibrated, the glass panes rattling in their frames. Hours later, the tired-eyed doctor walked into the waiting room. She was stripping off her surgical cap, and her forehead creased with the weight of the night. Toby was on his feet before she could speak. "Lisa? The baby?" "Your wife is stable," the doctor said. There was a collective exhale of both men. "The surgery was difficult. The abruption was severe, likely brought on by extreme acute stress and a spike in blood pressure. We had to perform an emergency C-section."