Mike Perry Spitting Blood Novels & Stories

But things were not going easy, the bleeding was getting worse every second and he could hardly keep himself up. He pressed his hand harder against his wound, trying to stop the bleeding, his breaths coming out in short, painful gasps, pushing through the pain as he fought with those men. Though those men were of no match to him even in such state, Mike could not longer hold on. The sound of his own heartbeat thudding in his ears. His mind was a blur and soon he fell on the ground, slowly drifting into unconsciousness. "I'm sorry, Boss...I was incompetent..." he muttered through clenched teeth just before loosing himself.

Although now coagulated and mostly dry, it's still unmistakeably someone's blood. Roger Drumlin's blood. He looks at it straight for about a minute, before bursting into a loud raucous laughter. "Wow! What the fuck! This is a big blow to Crazy Mike... How is the man even going to react to finding out he's now a full orphan? No family at all anywhere... I'm almost feeling bad for him." He suddenly stops talking.

A loud painful groan escaped from him, taking a little of the tension away from everyone. Darius shrugged. "He's fine." He bent beside him, Mike shivering in fear as Darius got closer. "Please man, I'm sorry...do--don't kill me! Ahh!" Mike pleaded for his life and was crying like a baby! Darius grabbed him from his collar, then long nails dug into his shirt and ripped it out, leaving Mike in just his singlets underwear. "You owe her an apology, right now!" Darius's voice boomed like thunder.

"Were have you been?! We've been looking everywhere for you!" Alexandra was surprised at how worried he was but then gestured to Adom and Mike seemed to understand. Mike looked around in confusion. Alexandra could get a better look at him. His hair was messy and the hair that fell on his forehead had some blood on it. His mouth had dried blood, and his shirt was dirty with blood all over especially in a small area where Alexnadra was sure Mike used to try to wipe the disgusting blood on his mouth. Alexandr felt a pang of pity for him. Mike never wanted to be parts this type of situation.

But Ursa, seeing through his intentions, grabbed him and delivered a powerful punch to his abdomen. Thud! Mike spat blood. But with the mask concealing his face, no one could see his miserable state. "I forfeit… I can't… Ahhh!" he cried. Yet, the relentless drumming drowned out his voice. Despair and terror consumed him. Ursa, venting his frustration with Nidora, showed no mercy, toying with Mike like a rag doll—twisting, pulling, slamming… Mike could hear his bones cracking as he screamed in agony. Unfortunately, his cries never reached the viewing platform.

That light was too pure and bright, revealing me for who I was. The filth churning inside me was something detestable and loathsome. It was so overwhelming that I did not dare to touch it. After it happened a few times, Ethan developed stomach problems. When I was not paying attention, he would endure the pain silently with his brows tightly furrowed. He was too afraid to let me find out and never told me. It was not until one morning, after staying up all night to care for me, that he fainted from the pain at his office. That was when I realized just how severe his condition had become.

“Whose gun is that?” “Don’t ask,” said Tommy, collapsing back. “You better just—I’m not gonna make this one, dude.” “Malarkey. Let’s move it.” “I don’t think so.” Truitt gestured at his legs. “They quit working on me.” Richard lifted him again, and inhaled sharply. The ground underneath was crimson with blood loss. Seeped through the back of Tom’s shirt, expanding red and wet. Crimson in the snow. “Caught one of Prick-we’s slugs, I think,” Tommy said. “Can’t feel much.”

I stepped in and the first thing I saw was Monika sitting at one of the chair on the opposite wall to the bed, holding her head between her hand, silently sobbing as tears dripped down to the floor. Bear was standing by the office door, his arms cross and his shoulders tense. I slowly looked over to the bed and the breath left my lungs. Mike, the warrior who had survived the attack on the night we stopped the three trucks, was laying on the bed, his glassy, bloodshot eyes looking up at the ceiling. There was a while foam bubbling out of his mouth, dripping down the corner of his lips. Blood was running down from his nose to the side of his cheeks, streaming out in different branches.

Immediately I brought it to my ear, I heard Hera's shrill voice. "Tik! Tok! Time is running out!" She laughed and the line went dead. I dropped the phone on the nightstand, annoyed. Mikael was shivering and his lips had turned blue. He looked too pale, it scared me. He suddenly started to cough painfully and when he leaned over the edge of the bed, he coughed up blood. I didn't want to cry. I wouldn't give Hera the satisfaction. I was so mad about the fact that she was torturing my husband so ruthlessly.

The stench of the dying man's blood brought back memories of what he had done as he stared at him. His senses were stimulated by the bright red blood as he looked at the very real-looking corpse. He was so sickened by the fact that he had killed the pursuer with his own hands that his stomach turned and he threw up. Mike finished his work and collapsed to the ground, exhausted and weak. His face was covered in snot and tears, making him appear silly and messy. "Are you finished now?" He instinctively raised his head in response to the harsh voice next to him.