Swamp People: Blood And Guts Novels & Stories

Chapter 1 It was late at night at around 10:30 pm in San Francisco a woman walked passed a street it was dark that she had to make use of a touch light in order to get a clear view of where she was heading to, just when she was about taking a step she felt something around her when she was about to look around she heard some strange voice which she found kind of weird, at first it was frighten, she asked herself "what could that be." while she stood there wondering what on Earth could have made such a weird sound, she was lost in her thoughts, then she heard a foot steps as if she was been followed by an unknown person, now she was scared because she knew it wasn't natural for all this thin

"The swamps are dangerous. Unstable ground, sinkholes, creatures that have not been seen in centuries. She is trying to lose us." "Then we do not let her." Niklas checked the blade at his hip, his face hard. "She has caused enough death. It ends today." They moved through the forest quickly, following the trail of blood and broken branches. The trees grew thinner as they approached the swamps, replaced by twisted willows and ancient cypresses whose roots rose from the water like grasping fingers. The air grew thick and heavy, humming with insects and the distant call of birds that sounded almost like laughter.

The sound everything made as it hit the ground, it just made him lose his stomach right there. And to make matters worse, he had to listen to Mr. Bryce tease him, that at least what he threw up looked exactly like what was already on the ground. Red and bloody! By the time he was done gutting that damn deer, he was actually thankful Mr. Bryce gave him clothes to wear, because he was covered head to toe in that deer's blood and guts. Just the thought almost made him want to throw up again. He glanced back at the shower and was tempted to get back in it.

Bri At some point in the night, the nightmares of the beatings and confinement washed away. I dreamed of golden eyes and russet wolves moving through the swampland. It was so vivid, the smells of musk, sulfur, and decaying things filled my phantom head. It was like seeing the swamp with new eyes, hearing every heartbeat, feeling the primordial essence that ran through the land. The earth, water, and air came together there and fire lived within the spirit of its creatures. Sparks of magic no one else would notice linger in the depths of inky water and vast miles of uncharted clusters of cypress. But I could, each and every spirit, every tendril of magic called to me like a song in my soul.

“Sure sure. I’ll believe it when I see it.” Claire chuckled as she took a swig of her drink. Max followed suit almost immediately after. The drink itself was a simple local-made fermented grain drink. It was pretty much this settlement’s specialty. They called it Swampwater, and was derived from one of the many grasses that grew on the fen. The brewers even used the exact same water that the plants grew on, which made it doubly true to its name. The drink itself was bitter and earthy, with strong grassy notes to bind it all together. It wasn’t unpleasant, but wasn’t the most amazing drink ever.

It felt like walking into the gullet of a dead god. We set up our camp in what used to be a foreman’s station—a small, concrete-lined chamber three hundred feet below the surface. It was cold, damp, and smelled of ancient labor. But as Julian fired up the portable generators and the servers began their low, reassuring hum, it started to feel like a fortress. "I’m going to start the reinforcement," I told Toby.

James took a look at the swampy area ahead of him. Without further hesitation, he marched forward. When his foot stepped into the swamp, he sensed a mystical power emanating from within. This power was very uncanny as it forcefully pulled his leg into the swamp. His leg sunk slowly into the marsh, yet James did not resist at all. He let his body slowly submerge into the bog. When the group saw this, they followed suit. They entered the swampy area and allowed their body to sink into it, disappearing from sight very quickly.

“She’s bleeding us dry before we even reach her.” Rio stumbled as his boot caught on something submerged. Looking down, his sharp eyes caught the pale face of a fallen human militia member staring back up at him from beneath the surface, mouth frozen in a silent scream. His stomach turned. More bodies floated by—witches with their throats ripped out, limbs missing, blood pooling thickly in the water. The swamp wasn’t just alive with magic. It was a grave. Nearby, Adonis was struggling too. A spell had caught him mid-strike, tendrils of glowing green magic wrapping his borrowed body like chains and dragging him under the fetid water.

Long Time Ago (Part 2) YOUNG GILDEON Large brown eyes, each as big as his head, stared directly at him. He pulled his knife from the sheath on his leg and sliced open the dead swamp beastling’s belly, its guts spilling out in a rush. The smell hit him—rotten fish and sour mud. He scrunched his nose, trying not to gag. He had killed and cleaned beastlings plenty of times by now, but the stench still made him sick.

He’d taken his sunglasses off and by the way his mouth hung open I could tell this wasn’t part of the act. The blood kept swelling. Kept sloshing and splashing. Whatever was inside kept pushing until it had pushed all the way through. A hand rose slowly from the puddle, followed by an arm. Then another hand and another arm reached out and up, searched for purchase on the floor of the stage, braced and pushed. The rest of it followed. Just pulled itself up and out like it had been in a hole or deep pool instead of a stain. It stood up, the blood it had emerged from covering every inch of its scarecrow body and rolling slowly back down to pool at its feet.