Mud Blood 3 Novelas e Histórias

CARDAN I heard the crack of skull before the splatter of blood reached me. The third attack in one week. The rogue laid dead at my feet, staring blankly at the clear skies. It had jumped out of the woods like a deranged maniac and I had reacted on reflex, crushing him before I could even think. I wiped my hand down the front of my shirt, smearing the stark red further into the fabric. It didn’t matter. The stench of copper already clung to me like a second skin. With a sharp exhale, I stepped over the corpse and headed for the car.

Powerful shockwaves sent mud flying everywhere. “AAAAH!” All seven men coughed up mouthfuls of blood, struck down by the backlash of their own runaway power. They were hurled backward together with their weapons. One bone fracture rang out after another as they crashed heavily into the safety barrier. The seven fighters collapsed motionless in the mire, covered in filth, unable to rise again. Mud splattered down from the air. Eira remained standing steadily on the stone slab, not a single speck of mud staining her black outfit.

The air in the maintenance tunnels beneath the Cradle didn’t just smell like damp earth and electrical grease; it tasted like copper. It was the taste of a looming storm, the metallic tang that precedes a lightning strike. I knelt in the shadows of the primary junction, my back pressed against a cooling pipe that thrummed with a rhythmic, mechanical heartbeat. My fingers were steady as I checked the action on my rifle, but my pulse was a different story. It was a jagged, frantic staccato that had nothing to do with the mission and everything to do with the woman currently climbing through the guts of the building above me.

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.

Slight red fresh blood began to squirt out and spurt out of his mouth. “Aquarius! Aquarius!” Virando stared sharply at Mr. Serpent Win Mara. He took out one of his gems and violently threw it to Mr. Serpent Win Mara. The coral hit and smote Mr. Serpent Win Mara’s left hand so violently and harshly. “Aaaarrrggghhkkk...!!! Look what you’ve done to my hand!” shouted Mr. Serpent Win Mara angrily. Red fresh blood was also seen oozing and oozing out of his left hand fingers. For a little while, the red orpiment emitted out from his left hand could be paused. He could solely emit his red orpiment from his right hand.

They did not even have time to scream. “What... What’s going on?” Mutt’s entire body was frozen. Before he could react, the gray blade in Ashblood’s hand was already slashing toward him. Clang! In a state of panic, Mutt blocked this slash from Ashblood with the broadsword in his hand. Before he could return the attack, a kick from Ashblood sent him flying seven or eight meters backward. When Mutt managed to climb up from the ground, Ashblood came at him again. His grey blade slashed at him for the second time.

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.

the crazy crowd that loved the sight of blood. Suddenly, Blue Blood hit Neil in the abdomen, and he crashed heavily on the floor. Blue Blood instantly rose to his feet... I saw it again... the fangs, the inhumane golden eyes filled with bloodlust, and the claws that had replaced the nails on his fingers. He was ready to fight back with his ability. Neil was shocked—I could see the shock on his face as he crawled away from Blue Blood, who was staring at him with so much bloodlust. At the same time, Neil rose to his feet with his eyes glued on Blue Blood. I could feel his resignation to fight back as he extended his own claws again.

Scraped clean inside. I felt dirty. A bone-deep contamination that no amount of scrubbing would ever remove. I reached out blindly in the dark, my hand trembling, searching the freezing mud until my fingers brushed against thick wool. Mace's coat. I dragged it toward me, burying my face in it, desperate for his scent. But it was tainted now. It smelled of the cellar mud, and underneath that, the overwhelming, copper-and-musk stench of Michael’s violence that now coated my skin and filled my body.

Like we’ve been put through a blender and somehow came out the other side still breathing. “We need to leave. Right now,” Mud says. He gestures to the rest of the men—those not helping with Knox. “Clean it up. Everything. Before someone calls the cops.” Hunter, Soraya, Serena, and Finn follow behind the people carrying Knox up the stairs. I start to push myself to my feet, and Mud is suddenly beside me, helping me up as my head spins. “You hit your head,” he says, studying my face. “Yeah, well, a grenade went off.”