Mud Blood 3 Novels & Stories

The terrifying momentum caused the thousands of troops of the Fiends and Blood race to spit out blood. The Demon-slain Finger crashed down with unparalleled crushing power. Boom! Demon-slain Finger crushed the Fiend Hand rushing toward Chu Xun and fell on the Blood Supremacy's head. Third Blood Supremacy was clearly a bit scared. He roared. The blood sea seethed, conjuring a blood curtain that looked like an enormous shield. Boom!

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.

Mud and blood? My eye snaps open and I see the sun is rising over the treeline. We are still out in the woods. I look around to find we are in the grass next to the Blood River. We are both naked and look like we have been rolling in mud puddles. There is a pile of rabbit remains nearby. I notice my face feels sticky. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. When I pull my hand away, I see it's covered with goopy, almost dried blood that smells just like the rabbit carcasses. Gross.

Bright red blood blooming outward from between my thighs, spreading across the pristine white of my dress. “No,” I whimpered, pressing my hands against the spot, trying desperately to stop the flow. “No, please, not my baby. Not my baby!” The mud pulled at me more insistently now, no longer just an impediment but a sentient thing. It rose higher, past my waist, up to my chest. And as it did, I saw that it wasn’t just wet soil, but hands—countless muddy hands reaching up from the ground, grasping at me, pulling me down.

My head is filled with the sound of bees. I’ve heard of blood madness before. Baron and Darma discussed it often. He said it was becoming more common. I sink to the floor and look up at Aldric who is busy closing the door behind Vesper. “What is blood madness?” I ask. “Is it like…when neophytes lose control and start to drain every human in sight?” “No, that’s not the same thing. It means something went wrong when Baron tried to make your mother.” “What?”

Blake Eight Years Ago Marianna pants, gripping my arm to hold herself upright as we sludge through mud so thick it sucks my shoes into its murky depths. A layer of water runs over the mud, making what was once a dry dirt parking lot shimmer in the shadow of the festival taking place a few hundred yards away. Music drifts toward through the relentless sheets of rain hammering over our heads, and I stumble, nearly dragging her down into the mud. “BLAKE!” she howls, laughing hysterically. I catch her around her middle and yank her upright, cursing under my breath.

“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.

I tried to convince her as she sniffled and finally hugged me while I patted her back. “We're good now?” I chuckled now, and a heavy weight lifted up my chest. “Yes! But still, play with me!” She giggled like a toddler and started to pick and throw sand at me while I did the same, happily. “I'm coming after you!” I shouted playfully once Aria had thrown a handful at me. “No!” She giggled softly again until I sharp tore across the field. My head tilted towards the place, Mira? “Blood!” She shouted and I hadn't realized I ran towards her until I heard me pant heavily beside her.

Pain—not mine. Lucien’s. Old. Buried. Ripped open. I didn’t think. I moved. Light surged from my skin, slamming into Mirelle’s wards like a digital battering ram. The sigils around her crackled. She stumbled back half a step, shock flashing across her face. “Oh,” she hissed. “There it is. Blood and silicon. How… inelegant.” “Funny,” I snapped. “That’s exactly how I feel about immortal middle management.”

Then she asked Maximus, “He isn’t dead, is he?” “No,” Maximus answered. “He is just gravely ill.” Julianne wondered if that was supposed to make her feel better, because it didn’t. She would frequently look over at him as Maximus carried him on their way back to the dorm. On getting to the dorm, Julianne was faced with more horror than she could ever imagine. There were traces of blood and blood spills. When she stepped inside, she saw bodies lying around and few of the boys that stayed behind wearing dark expressions, some of which she recognized to be werewolves.