Mc Blood-stained Novels & Stories

The Crossovers Are Just To Solve The Love Problems Of Other OCs … “No…” Dawey’s eyes widened in shock when they saw that it was really a blood stain on the leaf. The blood is vivid red, as if seeking for the others to look at it, notice it. “It can’t be…?!” Filur’s mouth fell open in shock as he looked at Mahi, afraid to see that Mahi would be enraged.

Not just because of what had almost happened— what had happened— Six’s soft lips moving against mine, but because of the way Marco looked. He was drenched in blood. His once-crisp white shirt was splattered with it, dark red streaks staining the fabric in thick, dried patches. Even his hands were smeared in it. I had no idea whose blood it was. But Marco? Marco didn’t seem the least bit bothered. He took a step toward me. Six remained stiff at my side, silent, the blank expression back on his face like he wasn’t the one smiling and smirking at me only moments ago.

Thick, crimson liquid drips down the children’s faces, pools in their outstretched hands, stains their clothes. It looks like a massacre.

Fast and quickly, it grew twice its previous size within a second. The scene was ugly. “Marco?” I called out worried. My hand flew up to cover my mouth when the first droplet fell and stained the white-furred carpet on the floor. Another followed, and the next thing I knew, a river of blood was gushing out of Marco's stomach. He was bleeding. Furiously.

The blood wasn't mine. That was the only good thing I could say about tonight. I scrubbed the pink stain on my apron with a wet paper towel in the bathroom of Mickey's Diner. The fluorescent light buzzed like a dying fly. It was two in the morning. My hands smelled like bleach and bacon grease. The stain was from a drunk trucker who'd cut his hand on a broken ketchup bottle. He'd waved the bleeding palm in my face and called me a "creepy bitch" when I didn't flinch.

He sees the dried, dark red bloodstains on my light-colored dress. His tall frame shudders, and his eyes instantly turn bloodshot.

The air stalled violently in his lungs. The man on the screen was ruined. Marcus's crisp, expensive corporate suit was torn and dirty. His face was heavily bruised, swollen, and covered in a thick layer of terrified sweat. But the most glaring detail was the massive, terrifying stain of dark red blood steadily pooling around his right thigh, dripping audibly onto a concrete floor. "Explain the photographs." Sebastian’s off camera voice roared clearly from the tablet speakers.

He’s staring out the window, hands in pockets. Vincent is nowhere in site, probably gone to take a break. “Dad.” I swallow the dryness in my throat. Gods, I need water. “You’re awake.” Cary turns away from the window and approaches my bed. His suit is pristine as usual. But his hair is tousled, like he’s been running his fingers through the tresses. There’s also a crimson stain underneath his left ear. “What’s that? Is that blood?” I stare at the stain. The longer I stare, the more I’m convinced that it is indeed blood.

Her eyebrows knit together slightly and she murmured, "Ethan? Is that… you?" But before I could answer, I heard a commotion from the other end of the bed. "Doctor, we're going to have to do something!" I turned to see it was that midwife, the woman who'd been helping her so much. I couldn't recall her name. There was also a doctor there, an older man, and the expression on both of their faces told me that the situation wasn't good. I glanced down at the bed and I understood why. Blood stained the white sheets. Crimson and sticky, it seemed to coat everything. It was even dripping onto the floor. I had been on battlefields most of my life, and I'd seen plenty of wounded and slaughtered wolves

Patchy blood stains, appearing unevenly, stretched from the pillow to the bed sheet. Located between the two beds on the right there was an iron door, which seemed to be the only exit in the room. In the middle of the room lay a small table, on which glass jars were presented of all sizes. In each jar it contained a thick red liquid, uneven in size. There were spilled jars lying on the countertop, liquid dripping from the inside onto the table, dripping drop by drop onto the floor. Just looking at it, can guess that the liquid is blood.