Rose With Dripping Blood 소설 & 이야기

The thorns are wet, but it’s not… not water. I drop the rose and look down at my palm, and the smear of blood left behind.

He clenched his fists as he stared out the window of his penthouse, the city sprawling below him like a maze. "You lied to me, Matteo," he murmured to himself. "You think you can hide her from me?" A sharp knock interrupted his thoughts. Rafael turned, narrowing his eyes at his trembling informant. "You said you found something," Rafael said, voice like silk wrapped around a blade. The man nodded, sweating through his shirt. "In Matteo’s jacket... sir. We found... this." He handed Rafael a small, dried rose, stained dark red. Blood roses.

His breaths rattle through the gurgle in his throat. On the table beside me sits a vase made out of crystal. I take a bundle of fresh white roses, their petals soft, and dip them slowly into the pool of blood collecting at his feet. The red seeps in, darkening the petals, turning them into such a beautiful shade. I arrange them carefully, making sure each stem sits just right, each petal stained evenly. I'll be having this delivered to the mansion later today for my doll face.

The soft golden light filtered through the curtains as I made my way quietly to my room, wanting to take a shower before the rest of my family woke up. But I stopped the moment I stepped inside. My breath caught in my throat. There was another rose on my bed. And a note. This time, both were covered in human blood. There was so much of it that it had soaked into the sheets, staining them a deep, terrifying red. The metallic scent filled the room, thick and suffocating. “What the hell?” I whispered. I rushed toward the bed and grabbed the note, my fingers immediately getting covered in fresh blood. My heart pounded as I unfolded it.

It’s quiet, but it’s not the silence that freezes me. A fresh batch of deep red roses sits in the vase, each stem perfectly arranged. I haven’t touched it today, and my siblings know better than to mess with the flowers. The anger in my veins thins into something colder. I inch closer, and my fingers graze a petal. Near the edge is a small, darkened smear that’s barely visible unless you’re looking at it. A sniff reveals its blood. Fresh enough to stain and faint enough to almost miss. Whoever cared enough to change the roses got cut in the process of doing so.

I consider shouting out for help, picturing Alastaire’s confused expression as he runs into my room to find me clinging to the outside of my window. I’d never live it down. I guess there’s no choice then. Slowly, carefully, I press one hand against the window, and reach out the other towards the wall next to me, trying to grasp the twisting rose branches that cling to the exterior of the house. As I wrap my hand around a stem I feel a jolt of pain, and I pull it back, watching as small droplets of blood red as the roses all around pool in my palm. Roses have thorns. Duh.

the voices spoke, "you are stuck in confusion and anxiety of your existence. Therefore, you are still not a worthy master for us to serve." Mayari blink and the rose started to bleed, she intended to drop it but she couldn't move and her gaze couldn't leave the rose's view like it was drawing her near to a hypnotizing daze of rosy red blood. The cherry red liquid then drip down from Mayari's soaked hand to the pitch black floor beneath her. It continued to flow, staining Mayari's heels. "Come back again when you have finally found yourself." Then the crimson blood arise and devoured her in an instant. Her vision turned dark and unconsciousness anchored her to sleep...

Liana asked, confused. The student approached the rose and quickly cut her palm. She dripped her blood on the rose. Our eyes widened from being a white rose to blood-colored. "It's the symbol of Queen Raven. She always puts something like this on her victims. Yes. It may look beautiful and ordinary. But you should not let its appearance deceive you. That rose is unusual. When it is shed with blood, from being white, it turns red. When you touch that rose, you will die. It's laced with a potent poison. And the only cure is in the hands of Queen Raven because she made that rose herself. She is also the one who made the poison." The student explains.

'' Tears are continuing to fall. It has been exactly ten minutes but she has not open the door, making me worry even more of what she might be doing inside; causing me to try and break the door—not caring if I end up hurting. After a couple of tried, the door breaks down, revealing Rose laying onto the ground, her eyes closed.

Prisca stood up and tried to walk up the stairs. Rose watched Prisca's figure slowly ascend the stairs, her apprehension remained palpable. There was an air of tension that hung heavy in the aftermath of their struggle, and Rose's eyes were locked on Prisca's form, waiting for any sign of reassurance. But as Prisca reached the top of the staircase, her movements suddenly grew unsteady. Rose's heart pounded in her chest as her concern shifted to alarm. She saw a trail of dark liquid – blood – on the floor, marking Prisca's path. Panic clawed at Rose's throat as she rushed forward, her voice trembling as she called out, "Prisca!"