Novel & Cerita Passive Bloodstains

It wasn't a food stain. It was blood. Thick, dark, dried drops of blood, splattered across the cuffs of his trousers in a large frantic pattern.

I could tell this was where Leonidas and his wolves usually shifted, there was a pattern to it, a rhythm in the dirt, like a trail of their animal instincts left behind. My boots crunched softly as I followed the path. The claw marks led deeper into the trees, almost vanishing at one point, until something caught my eye. Blood. A smear of it, dark red against the pale dirt. I crouched down slowly and touched the edge of the stain, pressing my fingers gently into the dried surface. It wasn’t cold yet. Still damp around the middle which meant it was still fresh. And definitely vampire blood.

Slipping the chip of my card on the sensor, the door pushes open to red stains on the white floor. It forms a pool and drags along in scary circles. Blood?!!

Claire always knew how to get under my skin. I went to the staff locker room. Maybe Thessara came in early and I just missed her somehow. Her locker was open. That was weird. Thessara always locked it. I looked inside carefully. Her jacket was still there. Her bag. But something else caught my eye. A piece of torn fabric stuck to the locker door. Dark red stains on it. Blood. My medical training kicked in immediately. I pulled the fabric down gently. I examined it under the light. The blood pattern was strange. Not like a normal cut or injury. The stains were in weird places. And the color was slightly off. Darker than regular blood should be.

She smiled. "These blood stain are a couple of hours older than the ones we found on the stairs. " "Detective, We found blood stains on the side of the library behind multiple shelves. They were estimated to be two to three days old." I looked as my girlfriend's perfect eyebrows met. God, I wanna look at her for years and never get tired of it. Too bad... I... "CHAIN!" She snapped her fingers "Hon?" Both Mhorein and Aiden were looking at me, Puzzled.

I arrived after she left. The parking lot was dark. The body was still there, pieces of it, scattered across the pavement. Blood everywhere. The smell was thick, metallic, clinging to the back of my throat. I worked fast. First, the blood. I had a spray bottle in my trunk, industrial strength, the kind that breaks down proteins on contact. I sprayed the pavement where she had stood, where the blood had pooled, where her paws had left prints. I scrubbed with a brush, rinsed with water from a jug, sprayed again. I wiped down the places where she had touched. The car door of Felix's vehicle. The ground where his body had fallen.

"Help Micah clear the hallway." Mitchell does not hesitate. He moves past me, his boots crunching on something gritty. I do not follow him. My feet freeze on the bottom step. Right there, in the centre of the floor, is a massive smear of dark, thick blood. It covers a four-foot patch of stone, bright red and glistening under the torchlight. It is Nina’s blood. I know the scent. It is sweet, too sweet for a human, carrying a faint, spicy undertone that makes the hair on my arms stand up.

My shoulder was complaining and my cheek was complaining and I noted both of those complaints and looked around the ground floor space for something useful. The sofa in the small ground floor sitting area that the building maintained for residents. The low table, which had nothing on it. The corner near the window where the shadow was thickest. And on the floor near the sofa’s base, a line of dark staining that ran along the carpet in a specific direction. Bloodstains. The particular dark brown-red of blood that had dried into carpet fibres. Not a spill… a trail, the kind made by something being dragged or someone moving while bleeding.

Sharper this time. I swallowed. My hands were shaking. I hugged my sketchbook tighter. He exhaled through his nose. Looked at the blood on his knuckles like it had personally offended him. Then he reached into his jacket, pulled out a black bandana, and started wrapping his hand. I watched, stupidly mesmerized. “Why were you there?” I asked quietly. His eyes flicked to mine. “I was passing through.” “Twice in two days you’ve ‘passed through’ exactly where I am.”

She padded quietly on the marble floor as she headed up the stairs and walked into the bathroom. The room still smelled of the evening, a mix of herbal soap and a hint of blood. The small wastebasket in the corner hadn’t been emptied. At the bottom were cotton pads stained brown with dried blood from Alex’s arm injury. It felt intimate then. But now? Now it felt like a clue. She didn’t hesitate. Ava reached into the vanity drawer, pulled out thin, latex gloves, and slipped them on with the ease of ritual. She retrieved the bloodied pads one by one, placing them carefully into a sterile evidence pouch from the back of the cabinet.