Nobody Makes Me Bleed My Own Blood の小説・ストーリー

Away from that house, away from that party, away from the image of Ronald with another man's hands and lips on him. The street lights blurred past him as he drove faster, faster, the world becoming streaks of light and shadow. Tears burned in his eyes, hot and angry and painful. He wiped them away with the back of his hand, roughly and angrily. He wasn't going to cry. Not over Ronald. Not over any of this. He was done crying. Done being hurt. Done being disappointed.

His chef always whips up interesting dishes made entirely of blood containing various herbs and spices. Getting ready to entertain Baron and his guests is a tedious process. I always have to look my best even though it’s not my appearance that matters to him. It’s my blood. The rarest of the rare - they call it golden blood. I’m literally a vampire delicacy, and while no one’s allowed to bite me, he does like to show me off so they can smell what they can't have.

The moment the water hit my skin, a shiver ran through my entire body. In the large vanity mirror, the woman staring back had red-rimmed eyes. A dark stain of blood caked the corner of her lips. I took a cotton pad, soaked it in cold water, and wiped at the blood, again and again. But the more I wiped, the redder it got. Eventually, I stopped and just stared at myself in the mirror. Remember this, Aurora Moretti. From this day forward, no one earns another one of your tears. Especially not for so-called blood.

I just watched my blood drip heavily onto the wooden table surface, thick and dark. "Yeahh that's it, feel the pain," I said softly to myself in the mirror, watching the crimson pool expand on the wood. "You deserve every bit of it." It was the only thing that made sense right now. The pain in my hand was nothing compared to the tearing in my chest. I stared at the cut, making a silent, twisted promise to myself. I will keep cutting you everyday until Danny is found. Every single day he is gone, I will bleed. But it wasn't enough. The disgust I felt for myself was still clawing at my throat, suffocating me.

“When you say ‘blood,’ how much.” Melody chose her words carefully. “Not… a draining,” she said. “Not an offering. It’s more like a mark. A press. You anchor a drop — literally a drop — and I work it into the ward lines. Like a… signature. A claim. It makes the scar remember who it shut for. It makes it harder for anything else to override that.” Baylee let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. One drop. She could do that.

No one cared about my baby. I begged Clara through my tears, “Let me call my friends. They share Tricia’s blood type and can donate. Please, I really can’t give blood now!” Clara kicked me hard. I staggered, knees hitting the marble floor with a dull thud. “Don’t play games. You’re just stalling to make Tricia miss her window for rescue. How cruel can you be? Even if you are pregnant, our family fortune won’t go to you!”

Kill! Kill! Kill! There’s nothing I can’t do now. All I can think of is causing him pain, as much pain as I can possibly give. It’s at this point that I hope for more that I know he’s close. There’s only so much a body can take before it starts to fall apart. It hasn’t bled enough, it hasn’t cried enough, it hasn’t despaired enough. I lean down as tears leak from his eyes. The small weakness is enough to make me smile.

“I don’t want to do this, please don’t make me.” The fear in my voice is palpable. The tension in the room can be cut with a knife. Beads of sweat run down the side of my face and down my neck. I move to wipe it off and then remember the all too familiar liquid that coats my hand like a second skin. Blood. Looking up into the night sky, the stars seem to twinkle, unaware of the turmoil I face. Suddenly a wave of bitterness washes over me. Why do I always have to play the fool? With an angry grunt I swing the knife down. Red explodes into the night. Dangerous and beautiful, my new favorite color.

—It doesn't make it any better When you say 'it's not my fault' I really thought I knew you better Guess I don't know you at all And I've been trying my best to forgive you But you messed it up, one too many times And when you come to me, with tears in your eyes I can't feel bad this time I hope you're satisfied Those words confirm it even more. But what can I do?... my way of loving you is strange. —You just heard Satisfied, a song that was never officially released, but I'm thankful to whoever leaked it online. —He smiles at his last words, and I can't ignore how adorable he looks. 'Did I say adorable?'

Because nothing born in blood ever leaves you clean. ****