Profane Soul Blood Hunter Novels & Stories

He added and I nodded and sigh again. “I will kill him with my own hand if he does something bad to Blood.” Third Person POV “F*ck him! F*ck! F*ck that mother f*cking bastard.” Blood keeps on cursing as he is inside of a room of a house believe, where they take him yesterday after his ‘encounter’ with Devren. “I will f*cking kill that mother f*cker!” He said in anger.

Xavier furrowed his brows. "Brother?" "Yes, he had a younger brother who was murdered by someone. Ashton loved him too much and his sudden death left a huge impact on his mind. He was emotionally broken and that's how he came into the dark world. Do you know that Ashton Finn is famous as the Blood King in the underworld because he loves to shed blood of his enemies? He tortures his enemy in the most brutal and vicious way that anyone could ever imagine. He is a bloodthirsty beast but what I am worried about that why is he after you?", Albert told Xavier in a serious tone. Xavier frowned.

His long fingers curled against the blanket instead, tendons sharp beneath pale skin, restrained power in every line. "It will not suffice," he said finally, his voice low and rough, as though speaking it cost him. A chill skated over my skin. "Then... what will?" For a long moment there was silence. Then his gaze lifted to mine. And in that molten red, I saw it-the hunger. Not for what I had set before him. Something deeper, rawer. It made my skin prickle, my pulse trip. "The blood of the hunt," he murmured, each word a confession dragged from his soul. "The life beneath fur and bone. Only that would sustain me when I am wounded." His gaze flicked to the tray with a faint grimace. "This...

Empty like a shell. I felt like my inside was being ripped out. They weren't nice. They weren't playing mean. They were simply being a monster. They didn't think twice to let me fall off the edge. They didn't help me when I screamed to be saved. They didn't give me the one thing I wanted, mercy. I only wanted mercy. He began by my heart. Slowly and painfully he ripped it out. His hands were claws with sharp nails growing on them. His eyes were insanely black. Not one spot you could see yourself in. They were like stone. Sharp. Hard. Cold. And Lifeless.

bearable. "Well, I liked to think of myself as an ascetic," she said. "An ascetic?" I looked up from my book with a raised eyebrow. "Like those Indian gurus who starve themselves to free their souls?" "Something like that," she just shrugged. "Maybe I should be an anorexic vampire then," I murmured to myself. Octavia muffled a laugh. "We're half-blood," she said, "We don't feed off humans." "Doesn't come naturally to me," I said. "Didn't you just say I'm quite different?"

I don’t want her to see me like this nor I don’t want Gabriel hurting her. "Damn Syne!" I heard him cursing. Though I cannot open my eyes, they’re burning and all I can see is darkness. “Fine! I’m done playing with you. I’ll kill him!” As soon as he said that, I felt a series of needles sticking out of my neck which made me puked blood. I never felt pain yet I felt like I was about to lose all the blood. The needle went inside my body, and pinched every nerve I’ve got making me bathe from my own blood.

He took a step towards her. He leaned forward as his hands covered her tied ones on the armrests. The warmth of his palms made her hold her breaths. Zara still tried to laugh to show that she was unfazed. But Hunter can see the sheen of sweat on her face. He leaned over, his face inches from her. "What you're seeing is just a shell, Zara. A corpse. The soul is dead. And I hate to say you're still so soulful. So beautiful." Hunter whispered to her.

He stuttered nervously while eyeing her poor fingers. Vladimir nodded at him. “Hmm. Good because you wouldn't be getting an easy death then,” with that He moved the blades further and it cut off all Hunter's fingers. The sharp deafening sound of Hunter's horrific screams filled the air. The fingers Vladimir slashed away from Hunter's hand were scattered on the floor. The men standing there looked down as once again blood splashed on Vladimir's face. He rose to his feet and grabbed Hunter's nape, “Nooo!” Hunter begged with a pitiful gaze knowing very well that expecting pity from The Sinner was impossible but he still tested his luck.

It just keeps on ringing inside my head and all I can do is squeeze my temple and ears. “Ah!” My scream wakes me up and brings me back to reality inside my cell. I fan myself as I try to gasp for air. Everything seems so real that it terrified me. We have a superstition about dreaming of blood. In the Guala tribe, if a hunter dreamt of bathing in blood or seeing a lot of blood, it can only mean one thing. Sacrifice.

"I am my genius father. You are so slender, so elegant. I am so lucky to have a thoughtful father like you. I'm glad you're my father. I'm glad I'm your daughter. I'll kiss you when you come, and it's huge!" He quickly stood up and threw everything on the table to the floor. He still wasn't dead! Again he succumbed to his helplessness! Even when he killed his daughter with his own hands, he had never been this helpless... The fire inside him would not go out no matter what he did. Because he knew that only the last thing called death could put out that fire. Only those who were not helpless would do it. That fire in the helpless would burn until death, and it would burn like hell... Just lik