Tanjiro Blood Eyes Novels & Stories

☉NAIDA Bloodied, warped green eyes. A dripping knife. Flashes and screams. Blood everywhere. All of the floor, pools of it, in my hands. Images and echoes of the mutilation drowned my senses. Most of that dark, sticky blood dripped down my hands. All over my hands. She put a knife to his heart! Execute her!

The Blood Mirror pulsed violently. It looked like a giant, floating heart. The dark red glow grew brighter. It turned the catacombs into a thick sea of blood. My blood flowed along the runes. It poured into the ancient glass. Through the blinding pain, I felt my life fading away. Ashen cracks spread across my pale skin. My veins bulged like black vines. "Finally!" Tania smiled in excitement. "Now everyone will see this traitor's true colors!"

Something sharp burst through my skin. The security device that attached to the school windows turned on an ear-splitting alarm. I propped myself up and pulled a big shard of glass out of my bleeding arm. Red hot blood started flowing angrily from my gash. I winced, not to the pain but the smell of my own blood. It had a surprisingly sweet, maddening scent I never thought was possible. For a moment, I just wanted to feed on myself, and that was a disgusting thought. A second later, my long deep cut patched itself up and the skin surface finally morphed and healed back to normal. No more bleeding, not even a scar. I blinked with astonishment.

He has been down here for four hours, which is nothing, which is routine, which is what he tells himself. The blood-sense has been smoking for eleven days. Two hundred and sixty-three years he's had it. Since the night in 1762 when a woman named Elise, who turned him against his own considered wishes in a Viennese cellar during the Seven Years' War, pressed her wrist against his mouth and said, you'll understand in a moment, and he did. He understood immediately. He felt his bloodline snap into place the way you feel a map unfold — the specific geography of everyone who had ever come from Elise, and everyone who had come from them, a web of thirty-seven souls distributed across Europe like s

I doubted him because that was possible. Stefano shook his head. "You saw his eyes, didn't you? The necromancer is the only one with golden eyes mixed with red. It looks like he holds the universe inside his eyes," he answered me, adding more weight to the evidence that Sushi is indeed a necromancer. . "B-but he didn't do anything bad," I defended Sushi because he might say to kill Sushi again.

Then the glass broke, Alexander felt the shards cut through his skin and get stuck in his flesh but he didn’t flinch…instead the pain helped him to stay clear headed because at some point, all he could see was red. “This…Cullen,” surprisingly his voice still worked, even though he sounded like a man that was about to go on a fucking rampage. “He had blue eyes?” Yuki inhaled deeply, “Yes, he did,” Alexander brought down the phone from his ear and searched for the first picture of Sergio he saw online. He sent the picture to Yuki and heard her gasp from the other line. “Is that him?” “Yes!” Alexander chuckled darkly, his eyes already clouded with blood lust.

They rolled him around until he sat on the floor, his whole body trembling from head to foot. The man—if he could be called that—was filthy, his clothes shredded and caked in dirt. His skin was too pale, almost translucent in the evening glow, and veins spiderwebbed sickly beneath it. His pupils were blown wide, giving him a feral, half-crazed look. I sniffed again and sure enough, I could sense the human... but there was something else. Something twisted and rotten like death and dark magic. It made me even tenser. “What the hell is he?” muttered Jorah, one of the Gamma’s beside me.

Sylvester spat as he witnessed the arms going down. "That's some friggin bloody thriller" Jaemin smiled as Sancho's blood formed a flowing stream just like Alberto's. It was flowing so much till it started reaching their angle. Toyota return the knifes to her straps and got the two-way rod from the other time. It still has Alberto's blood on it, and without waiting, she shoved it into his stomach, causing blood to fly out of his mouth. She began drawing out his organs, and Tiger smiled. Nothing beats watching her exert pains on the guilty like this, there's always an immeasurable joy that comes with it.

As Ace flipped through the pages, the soft crackling of the paper filled the space. Ace's fingers moved skillfully over the pages, his eyes scanning each drawing with a mix of pain and yearning. As he turned the pages, I leaned in closer, mesmerized by his talent, my gaze fixed on his strong fingers gently handling each page. Each one unveiled a new design, a new narrative. On one page, I saw a boy gazing at a river, his face reflecting deep sorrow.