Mud And Blood 3 Novels & Stories

Mud splashes beneath our boots as we storm through the village streets alongside armed soldiers. The entire pack is chaos, children crying, buildings burning, bodies scattered across the roads. A rogue suddenly lunges out from behind a destroyed cart. I fire instantly, the bullet tearing straight through his skull, his body dropping heavily into the mud.

"But your little rebellion ends today. Your father died because of your arrogance. Do not make me kill your friends too." I couldn't breathe. My vision began to go dark around the edges, tiny black spots danced in front of my eyes. The hot pain in my broken shoulder screamed, tempting me to just give up and let the darkness take me. But then I looked down at the mud and blood on my right hand. I thought about my Dad. I thought about the bait shop burning to the ground. The silver light inside my blood did not wait for an invitation this time. It exploded out of my pores in a blinding shockwave of pure lunar fire.

I didn't stop. I was already on the ground, my body lying flat in the wet, cold mud. As the thick dust filled the air and blinded the monster, I used the momentum of my slide to push myself forward. I crawled on my belly, dragging myself directly between the beast's thick, trunk-like legs. The mud was freezing and slick against my bare skin, but it helped me slide easily beneath its massive, clumsy stride. The Blade-Stalker roared. its heavy boots stomped wildly in the deep mud, splashing black water everywhere as it struggled in the thick cloud of gray dust.

someone shouted. However, the Emberfallen man, now a monster, was acting strangely. After killing someone from Mudstone, he stood stockstill. When he heard someone speak, he slowly raised his head, and his crimson-colored eyes swept over the Mudstone team. Finally, his gaze stopped on Adrian. He then opened his mouth and blood sprayed out of it.

The words repeat, each syllable a hammer strike against my skull, piercing through my ears until they are a deafening, inescapable whisper. The scene shifts again, faster now. I am on a battlefield. The earth under my knees is not dirt—it is mud, thick and soaked with a dark, coppery blood. The stench of iron and decay is overwhelming. And there is a body in front of me, a man in ruined, blood-caked armor.

Familiar eyes shine through the dripping blood with a snarl. The monster grabs my wrist before I can pull back from a hard strike to its neck, and twists my hand painfully, bringing me down to my knees. Wait. How did it know my name? “OOwwwW!” I howl in pain and glare at the monster. “Let me go!” It takes a beat for me to look past his bloody appearance. Those eyes. I know who this fucker is. The coagulated blood he’s covered head to toe in isn’t blood at all. It’s the red mud of the Blood River. The natural iron deposits make the water blood red. It’s so potent that it turns the mud on the river banks blood red as well.

Some were dried up like thousand-year-old mummies. There were also... some whose flesh was torn piece by piece off their body. Their blood drenched the ground. They no longer looked like one of the three great families of Sumeria. This was clearly a bloody hell of death and killing. Soon, Andrius went into the hall and saw Tiger and Bruce. “M-Mr. Moonshade. C-check on... on Old Master Timberland first...” When Tiger saw him, another mouthful of blood gushed out from the corner of his mouth before he passed out.

The rogues were sloppy, and for every one of ours that they took down, we took five of theirs. But they tired us out. The ground grew slick with mud and coppery blood, and as our legs grew weak from exhaustion, our men began to collapse. The horn came soon after. It was a low, mournful sound that echoed from deep within the mist. The rogues retreated. For a split second, there was quiet, save for the sounds of our warriors panting and dying. And then… Bloodmoon came. They walked from the mist, slowly, too slowly, silent as wraiths. Their feet didn’t even make the twigs crunch under them. At first, I only saw five shapes moving through the mist. Then, as my eyes focused, I saw ten. Then more.

‘Vlad, calm down…’ “Not anymore. I had enough of this game.” Vladimir clicked his tongue and everything went bloody red. ‘VLADIMIR!!!’ The fallen rogues that kept rushing to her side was now taken that cue on killing him but Vladimir shifted his gear her dark smoke turned into a very unpredictable bloody red. It began moving and spreading fear all over the place and whoever was being hit by it, the body immediately drained out. And if not, every tiny bit of their bones, skins, and fleshes was being shattered which caused blood everywhere.

Sapphira's ankle gave way and she tumbled forward into the dark. The ground was cold and gritty under her, the air pungent with mildew and ... more jasmine. This place was old. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her vision sharpened, her wolf sensing for threats. But the air was still. The only movement was a trickle of water running down the wall. She turned towards the direction she had fallen from, her eyes adjusting in the dark as Evander materialised behind her. He dusted his shoulders and adjusted his cuffs before extending a hand towards her.