Left 4 Dead: Blood Harvest Novels & Stories

After hearing the commotion, he rushed over as well. The moment he saw me, all the color drained from his face. Peeking out from behind him, Sheila leaned forward. She had just finished crying in front of Mom and Dad. Her eyes were still red as she spoke in a soft voice. “What is wrong with Harriet?” She stared at the blood on the floor. “That blood is not fake, is it?” A moment later, she let out a small laugh. “After all, Derrick pretended to have ALS for three years. Maybe Harriet resents us and decided to fake fainting with some stage blood to scare everyone.

“We don’t have seven days. We have five. Maybe four.” Four days until blood kills. Four days until I have to choose who dies first for real. I press my bleeding arm to Theo’s chest. His blood mixes with mine. The bond sparks. I don’t get a death-memory. I get a future. Theo, dead in my arms. Day 16. Real this time. No reboot. Arrow through his heart. Draevor’s crest on the shaft. I jerk back. Theo’s hand finds mine again. “Saw that, didn’t you?” he murmurs. “Now you know. First real death is mine.”

He has an army of vampires numbering in the thousands, as well as some brainwashed humans. Alex and Victoria feel that they must stop the Bloods' evil plan, as they do not want to see the world become a hell for humans. They decide to attack the Bloods' headquarters which is in a tall building in the centre of a big city. They infiltrated the building disguised as ordinary humans, and found their way to Lord Draven's main room. Along the way, they had to face many guardian vampires who tried to block them. They used their strength and speed to defeat the vampires, but were also careful not to attract the attention of the humans around.

I send up a prayer, and plunge the dagger back in her chest so I can cut out her heart. Twenty minutes later, it’s all over. The zombies lie where they fell. Harriet’s mutilated corpse is staining the grass red. The swamp is quiet. I stare at the heart in my hand. It’s still pumping away, despite the massive hole in it, but with every contraction of the muscle, it grows a little weaker. The corpse, however, is stock-still and growing colder by the minute. I throw the heart on the ground and step on it. The last of her blood spatters over my boots and jeans.

Just feet, crunching loudly on the dead, hard foliage still present from last season. After about a dozen steps, something new enters the screen. It is a splash of something across the forest floor in a deep red-brown color. Blood. Even I know what splattered blood looks like. As the phone slowly pans around, I see more and more of it. My breathing picks up speed and my heart begins to race. Fear just about chokes me now, because I know what he’s showing me. The massacre of the short people’s camp. I don’t want to watch it, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from the screen. Just like in the dungeon. I have to know, but I don’t want to know.

They're harvesting. I watch Professor Fell coordinate the collection. He's pointing. Directing. His mages are grabbing bodies. Transporting them somewhere. Not for burial. For study. The battle isn't just extermination. It's harvest. Hermetic Order is using the chaos to collect specimens for their hybrid program. 7:28 AM - Fae warrior (F-12). Overwhelmed by four vampire hunters. Died fighting. Took two vampires with her. 7:29 AM - Wolf fighter (W-41, name: Danny Castellano). Mauled by dragon. Died from massive trauma.

Sorry but I need to live. ...... Blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood So much blood. ......

“Blood, Word, Breath. Break any and the stair erases your ascent.” Taren swallowed. “What happens if the stair erases us?” “You forget up,” the figure said, almost kindly. “Some prefer that.” They descended. ⸻ The chamber of Blood was small, round, plain. A bowl cut into the floor collected melt from the ceiling in slow, patient drops. A wafer of ice rested on a plinth beside it. Three channels had been carved there: two whole, one shallow. Kaelira’s wolf paced. Teeth and ritual, Ardyn said, unimpressed. Pick one.

Just before I succumb to the darkness that pulls me, I hear it… “White hair. A gene of the moonblood line. Cursed. Prophecies surround them.” It’s a whisper in a foreign language. But somehow, I understand it. “The rest of them were killed. She’s the last of their kind, she must be killed.” And I succumb to the blackness. I don’t struggle, no, I go willingly. But just before my mind blanks, I make up my mind. When I wake up, I will leave Ashbane pack. I will run, and I will hide.

Henry soon ceases his struggle for breath. Blossom sniffs the air, her instincts steering her toward Liza, who is nearby. She follows the blood trail on the ground, navigating past overturned tables and a grim assortment of werewolf and human remains, some still recognizable, others lost to chaos. Her path leads her to the grisly area where bodies hang suspended from meat hooks, a morbid reminder of the horrors that have unfolded.