Mc Blood-stained Mga Nobela at Kwento

Rebecca: "What the hell are you talking about," I ask. "Marcus, come on! Get over here." "How," Marcus asks. He lifts his camouflage shirt and shows me his bloody chest. "Son of a bitch," I say, covering my mouth as I step back. Marcus's stab wound is worse than I expected. Even though it's wrapped, there is still blood flowing out of it. The area around the wound is black. Looking at Marcus, I finally notice him. He is barely standing straight. His body and face are drenched in sweat and he's as pale as a ghost.

Slipping the chip of my card on the sensor, the door pushes open to red stains on the white floor. It forms a pool and drags along in scary circles. Blood?!!

However, bright red blood stains were visible on her lovely dress. “Ahh!! Blood!!!”

means in my blood. O god I am still bleeding... After taking 15-20 minutes relaxing bath in which I took little nap ...I came out from the bathroom wearing a long hulk sized bathrobe. As I was wearing it my eyes landed on my reflection , on the mirror The bathrobe fell down from my hands in shock O my god ... My whole body is looking red blue and is covered from neck to knee in his teeth marks. My face have his finger prints I turned around and again gasped when I saw my back is also covered with his teeth marks .

Crouching down, I looked at the pools of blood which lay on the ground. Lycan blood had a slightly blackened tint to it; showing the taint which ran through their veins. It was in a large puddle next to another smaller one. This one had a slight iridescence to it. The antibodies in it, causing it to slightly shimmer in the light. Vampire blood. And the third puddle… “Mars…” I put my hand out, taking out the tiny scrap of paper which sat in it and opened it. Looking down at the handwriting, I closed my eyes.

The deep crimson stains stood out starkly against the delicate fabric, an undeniable reminder of the gruesome fate they had endured. A wave of nausea surged through me, threatening to overwhelm my senses. The metallic scent of blood filled the air, intertwining with the sterile laboratory odors, and I felt my stomach churn in disgust. I clamped my hand over my mouth, desperate to suppress the rising bile, but the taste of revulsion lingered on my tongue.

Bile quickly rises to my throat, and I swallow it down. Wrong decision to make. Before I can think, it rushes up my throat again, and I hunch over. Right there, in the middle of the aisle, I empty my guts. I puke. A whitish transparent liquid. My throat feels raw, hot. “Gross,” someone grimaces. Jafeth looks away, jaw clenched. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Black dots dance in my vision, my head swims. I feel light-headed. Just before I succumb to the darkness that pulls me, I hear it…

I got up slowly trying o nurse my stomach ache and notice red stains all over the bedsheets. A good part of the beddings was full of blood and I didn’t even want to look at them. I didn’t want to be a girl anymore. My nightdress was also stained with dark red and no amount of washing was going to save the stained sheets. Dear God, I didn’t sign up for all this. I hurried to the bathroom and filled the sink with water and detergents. I f I appeared at the hallway with bedsheets and duvets next to the washing machine, it would look even worse. My step mama

She couldn’t help but scream and in less than 1 minute, doctors and nurses were piling into the office in concern. The female doctor couldn’t unsee what she saw. Doctor smith’s body was pale and ashen, his lips had become stiff and hard and his eyes which looked like they almost popped out some minutes before death were wide and yellowish in color. His nails looked as if riddled with dried blood and his shirt slightly bloodied was opened, revealing his throat area which had long bloody scratches. His phone was not too far from him and it looked like he was reaching for it. His legs were somehow at an unnatural angle and his tie was not too far from his reach either. She staggered again and f

The plastic casing shattered, sparking once before dying in a puff of acrid smoke. "You will not touch her," Damian whispered. The threat was so quiet it made the room feel like a tomb. "The next hand that moves toward this bed stays on the floor." Marcus froze, his face draining of color. But his eyes darted past Damian, landing on a discarded medical gown draped over the biohazard bin in the corner. Under the emergency UV strobes, the gown wasn't white. It was splashed with a brilliant, bioluminescent stain. Silver. It pulsed with a faint, dying violet light—a perfect match for the threads in my neck.