Randomly Smelling Bleach Novels & Stories

Did someone leave a tap on in one of the bathrooms? Is that why I was called home? To clean?? I hold my phone down to see the wetness. My breath hitches and my heart skips a beat at the sight. No. It’s not water. And the liquid is definitely not colourless. It is deep red. My stomach wrenches when I catch the scent of a familiar smell, pungent in the air. Metal. It’s so concentrated that it’s choking. I feel my heart skip a beat as I keep moving up. The path becomes more painted with this red liquid the further I go up. “This is not funny mom, it’s not April fools and this is not Halloween so stop joking now.” I say, warily moving up.

Rey Jhon slammed the bathroom door shut. He was trying his best not to breathe in the awful smell that seemed to crawl deep into his system. The stink was so strong and it was getting into his nerves, it felt like it was punching his nose again and again. He pinched his nose while grabbing the most expensive alcohol from his bag and he sprayed it all over the bathroom. He would rather waste his alcohol than to smell that disgusting odor.

So when we finally looked over the hill, I was very surprised to see neon lights, people walking in every direction, and laughter filling the air. New smells invaded my senses as I tried to pinpoint what I was smelling. The sickening sweet smell like processing sugar, I guessed, was the witches. Narrowing my eyes at a lady that was in front of a shop with different potions sitting on the table was just enough in-line with me. I knew I was smelling her. The other smell like bleach and sterile, must be vampires. I’ve never come into contact with them, so that made me instantly nervous. “What’s the game plan?” Samuel asked. He dropped the joking nature and was straight to business.

I watch Eli bolt up the stairs, yelling yes at the top of his lungs. “Elijah!” But I’m too late. I’m sure the entire building heard me. A familiar scent hits my nose as I put my hand on the handrail. Hang on a second, it's the scent of whoever left me that mysterious note earlier. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I follow it. It leads to a door hidden under the staircase. The sign reads "basement" but when I open it, it looks like a supply closet, smelling heavily of chemicals, cleaning products, and the cover spray. But under all that, I can also smell her….?

Being this close, I can’t help but notice the unique scent that clings to her, a personal fragrance that’s unmistakably hers. The smell of her shampoo is rich and enticing, a delightful blend of sweet vanilla and exotic pomegranate, intertwined with a subtle undertone of the alcohol from the night’s festivities. It’s a striking combination, leaving a lingering impression in my senses.

POV: Liora Hayes The smell of the hospital always made me want to scream. It’s that smell..floor wax, bleach, and that weird, metallic tang that sticks to the back of your throat. It’s the smell of people dying and people trying to stop it. Usually, I could handle it. I’d walk through those sliding doors and pretend everything was fine. I’d put on a fake smile for my mom and tell her about the big tips I didn't actually make.

“Yes, Jeff. Keep walking. And act like you don’t see them. Okay?” “But ma’am, how do you know Mr. Smith is in this store?” I point at my nose. “I can smell his cologne and aftershave mixture. I have a very strong sense of smell. Like you, you smell like spearmint and nutmeg. Every day.” He blinks, surprised. “That’s… exactly right.” We keep walking. And they keep shopping. Oblivious to us, bold, and reckless. They fill an entire cart full of clothes, bottles, blankets, a baby bathtub, a car seat.

He could not believe it no matter what. Jessie took a deep breath and slowly said, "Uncle Bai. The clothes you are wearing are made of the Launette Perfume Laundry, the shaved water is made of asparagus and almond juice. There is also menthol mixed together, the toothpaste is salt and soda, and so on and so forth. The hand-washing solution is the combination of cherry blossoms and orchids. You have been to the clinic in the hospital today. In the operating theater, although you took a shower and got rid of the poison, You still smell like iodine, blood, anti-inflammatory, anesthesia, and sedative."

My chest felt as if it were caving in and my heartrate skyrocketed. “Tell me five things you smell.” I furrowed my brow. “What?” “Now, Rae. Five things you smell.” I tried sniffing the air in broken intakes of air. Trying to latch onto the world around me. “Uh, I uh—I smell rubber. And—and oil.” “Three more. Hit me with ‘em.” I snickered. “I smell your cologne.” “Good.” “And dirt.” “One more. You’re doing great, Rae.”

The car accident a year ago had stolen her sense of smell, as if a painter had been deprived of light, or a singer silenced in the midst of an unfinished symphony. On the table, a glossy magazine featured a glamorous model with golden hair, dressed in a seductive black cocktail dress, inhaling the fragrance from an intricately designed crescent-shaped perfume bottle. La Nuit Blanche – White Night. The latest fragrance from Les Parfums de Marie was taking the market by storm this spring.