Novel & Cerita Saw 2 Flesh And Blood

My hands were cold, and I stared at the screen again. “It is not his empire,” I said. "This is his bloodline." Footsteps resounded outside the room. The door opened. Dino stood with an unreadable expression. "You found something," he said. I swung around and looked at him a-throbbing. "Yes," I replied. His eyes sharpened. "What did you find, Drina?" I turned back and looked at the screen, and then at the man whose name had plagued all corners of my life. "A ghost," I said. "And it belongs to your family."

[Flesh and Wire] The smell of scorched flesh and ozone was so thick I could taste it on the back of my tongue. I stood in the sterile white light of the surgical suite, watching the last of Dante’s humanity being carried away in a biohazard bin. His right arm, the one that had held me with a desperate, shaking warmth on the mountain, was gone—replaced by a predatory limb of dark obsidian and silver-tech that looked like it had been forged in the heart of a dying star.

He knew the kind of monster his Lord was. Even in the darkened room, he could still see what was happening before him, since he was a night creature. The red thread and the coffin began fading into nothingness, revealing the two people floating in the air while still embraced together. What could be heard in the darkness was the humming and cracking of bones, as though a body was remolding. The sound was eerily creepy and nerve-wracking, but not for someone like Butler Thomas — to him, the sound was like music to his ears.

Sara. My breath caught in my throat as I saw the scene before me. The vibrant color of blood oozing onto the white carpet sent a shiver down my spine, and the metallic scent filled the room, making me dizzy with fear. Her body lay crumpled on the once-luxurious carpet, the rich crimson of her blood seeping into its fibers. Her limbs twisted unnaturally, her face locked in a silent scream. But it was the knife—deep, jagged, and still embedded in her chest—that burned into my mind. The air left my lungs as I took a step forward. “Sara,” I whispered, the word barely audible. My heart clenched as memories of her kindness, her sacrifices, collided with the brutal reality before me.

He turned, a sword flashed, a bright crimson stream colored his tunic and vest. Sailor Fird slashed a man over his face; Albin slashed a buccaneer's neck, the man fell to the ground, trying to stop the life fluid. The poodle around him became larger. Albin turned, made a sign with his arms. The blood, change density, rose up and started boiling. It divided itself into two exact copies of the dead sailors. The first blood-sailor slashed a man across the face, its sword flashed. A man held parts of his skin from falling. A buccaneer rushed, the blood-sailor avoided the blow, slashed the man across his groin. The blood-sailor turned, a harpoon pierced his chest. He slowly returned to the bloody

Knowing that my life was secure, I was willing to risk anything else to get out of here. I gave her my arm and then she began her incantations. “Summon summon, the dark demons of death and decay, preserve this flesh and let it stay. Summon, summon the greedy god who lust for blood, connect ye now this pound of flesh to us!” I kept wondering why she kept talking about flesh when without warning, she used one of the stone daggers to slice a pound of flesh clean off from my arm. The pain cut into me deeply as blood began to pour from my skinned flesh. I gnashed my teeth and a low growl escaped my throat.

I have gone strong with every life I took and the terror I bring. I was in front of him now and as I went closer he could see that my face is drenched in blood. Tears of crimson are flowing out of my eyes, the gaping wound in my left wrist rotting while blood and pus are coming out of it. It was me he was seeing, the real me.

He lunges, the blade slicing through the air, aimed at my chest, just above my right breast. I recoil, anticipating the agony. The knife bites deep, and I wince my vision blurring. My blood spills, warm and crimson, sliding down my torso. Denzel's eyes gleam with sadistic pleasure. With a twisted grin, he slits open his own rotting hand, revealing festering flesh. He presses his wounded hand against mine, mingling our skin. I scream as my blood blends with his skin, feeling an eerie presence invade my body. It's as if dark entities are awakening within me.

An infected man limped towards me, his throbbing flesh covered in what looked like teeth. With a scream, I stabbed the air before me, sending my blade straight into the creature’s chest. The blood welling up around the blade was red, but with bits of a black mold-like substance. I pulled the blade out and slashed it, again and again, spraying the tainted blood everywhere, until the creature collapsed into a lifeless lump of meat. Its eyes were empty glass spheres, just like those of Mr. Humphries.

I uttered again and again, my hand parallel to each other, and on its center is the formed symbol of death on fire. If this is what it takes to avenge my loss, I don’t mind giving my life. “Ophelia! Don’t do that!” Queen Romina cried, but I only continued. “Mea vita pro morte sua…” My life for his death. The moment I opened my eyes, I felt like I was reborn in new and more powerful body. I could feel the overflowing energy on my veins, the heat of fire around me, my soul aching for blood, and my every nerve screaming for death.