Romans & histoires Nobody Makes Me Bleed My Own Blood

I am not just a victim in this house. I am blood.

No matter how hard my father tries to get my attention and save me from myself, I won't stop until the pain is gone. My hands clutch the muscle; I take a deep breath and grit my teeth. It's one of the last steps before I reach the source of the pain and destroy all that's left of it. But before I can tear the muscle, the pain stops. It disappears as suddenly as it appeared. Even as the feeling fades, a different kind of pain remains- a pain of my own making. It will take months to heal if I can heal at all. I don't worry about possible infection and try to roll over. When I manage to lie on my back, I breathe a sigh of relief. Whatever I feel now is just a remnant of the excruciating pain th

They all made me bleed. Like a fool, they played me.

I did not gift the network my private blood. I worked, refused, signed, sang, ate, loved, and returned. The volume can rise again. So can I. Still not over. Still exact under pressure. Still here, loud enough to keep my life in my own hands. I slept ready.

It’s the hurt inside that makes me weak, not the wounds on my body. It hurts to breathe, it hurts to think. My heart is the one bleeding, not my skin. The smell of blood and water mixed cover the room.

Broken. Bloody. But no longer alone.

By my side, I’ll swallow all of my pride Your love is so sweet, it knocks me right off my feet Yeah, yeah Can’t explain why your lovin' makes me so weak

The silver lines flared with a blinding violet glow. The blood sizzled and hissed, bubbling fiercely as if on hot iron. A sharp kinetic blast rippled through the air, knocking Maya back. She clutched her burned hand to her chest, her heart pounding. "It didn't work!" Nadia cried out, rushing to Maya's side as the room shook violently. "The circle… it’s still empty! The shield is failing!" Outside, the barrier’s crimson glow dimmed to a dull ember. The study's windows cracked, spiderweb under the weight of the trackers' claws.

This time, on our terms. Because no one—no one—messed with my mate and walked away clean. Not even my own blood.

I keep checking on my own blood brother for the lack of trust I have in people. Then how could I.. How could I keep her off limit from my radar. It doesn't only distress me, but it makes me feel a fury. A kind of fury that boils my blood to the point of needing to hurt. Hurt someone to the point that all I can see is red... blood... The need to flow blood is having a toll on me...