Randomly Smelling Bleach Novels & Stories

But the lemon smell is overpowered by the horrible scent permeating the room. “What’s that awful smell?” I say, waving my hand in front of my nose. “It sucks to have a sensitive wolf nose right about now,” Callan says. “This is bleach. It’s the only thing I could think of to get the bloodstains off the floor.” “Is Ethan okay?” I ask, sitting my backside on one of the chairs. “Other than a bad hangover, he’ll be fine by tomorrow.” Callan grabs a pink-stained towel and wipes the water and bleach from the floor.

Jim said that he was always the sort of man who would run from his problems, and that included his family. Everly sprayed the counters down with the cleaner they’d bought just for that purpose, and the strong scent of bleach and ammonia hit her lungs. She would rather smell that than the musty, mildew smell that had been filling her nose with every breath since she walked into the room. She used a cloth from the set of three they’d bought to wipe it off and then moved to the stove. She wished she knew whether or not it would work before she decided to clean it, but she had nothing better to do.

My mom was always baking something. My feet move forward on their own, trying to seek out that scent. I feel myself moving toward the bathroom. I get to the door and I breathe in deeply. The smell is gone. I feel like air hits my system, jolting my body. I feel like I’ve been woken out of a trance that was put on me by that scent. I take a few deep breaths and look around the room. I know that scent was there, I’m not crazy. As much as I know that scent was there, it’s completely gone. All I can smell is the dirt scent that follows all humans. My thoughts have consumed me as I try to figure out what the hell is going on with me. Maybe the stress of everything has me losing my mind. I might n

I still couldn't connect to Zariah and my limbs still felt heavy, just not as heavy. When we reached the bottom floor I could smell blood. I could also smell some heavy cleaning agents like bleach and I'm pretty sure pinesol but definitely still blood. I knew for a fact this floor was cleaned more frequently and sterilized so much more than other floors but the walls and floors were still stained red and the smell of blood never went away. What always had alarmed me was it wasn't just the smell of werewolf blood here. There was also the smell of human and witch blood alike. I tried not to think about it.

Hazel stops with me, silently listening as we both scent the air. Pine, smoke, the iron bite of cold. But under it there’s a faint, sour-sweet smell. A masking agent. Camphor. Peppermint. The same stink that turned my nose stupid at the quarry. “Smell that?” I murmur. She hums low. “Yeah.”

Did someone hurt her here? I drop my head low, shifting my senses to catch what she’s tracking. The house smells of industrial cleaners—bleach and pine—meant to scrub away the history of what happened here. Underneath the chemicals, I find it. The faint, haunting trace of honey and orange blossoms. Alanza.

“So you’re sniffing the air out here to clear your sinuses or something? Really?” “Actually,” I say, “can you come here for a second?” She arches an eyebrow but steps over, clearly intrigued. “Okay, what’s up?” “Do you smell anything unusual here?” I gesture to the spot near the window. Chloe sniffs the air, then shakes her head. “Nope. Just smells like burnt wood and cleaning stuff to me.” I nod, taking her words to heart. If Chloe, with her sharp senses, can’t smell it, then what the hell is going on?

Bleach and tomato soup and all the human perfumes, vanilla and bergamot and cedarwood—all combined without regard for what makes sense, what grows together in nature. It’s all wrong. I get pizza because at least it smells like freezer burn and oven, not garbage. The milk is a few hours from turning. I gag. Nia holds out a big wad of brown paper napkins. “I’m good,” I say as I grab them. “Just aim away from me, Rosie-cakes. That’s all I ask.” Yeah, I am definitely going to puke. Then the janitor is going to come with that powder and the rancid mop bucket water, and I’m going to hurl again and never stop.

The kind that means they're watching. Stay calm, Sable whispers inside me. Don't give her what she wants. I don't. I straighten up, meet Britney's eyes for just a second, then turn back to my locker. My hands shake as I reach for my chemistry textbook. I hate that they shake. I hate that she can see it. "What's wrong?" Britney leans against the locker next to mine. Her perfume is too strong. It makes my nose itch. "Cat got your tongue? Oh wait—you don't have a wolf, so I guess nothing's got your tongue."