The Bloody Gate Novels & Stories

The sound bit into me worse than any scream. When the voice came again, it was closer. “I am Grothul, Spirit of Blood. I am the keeper of the seventh gate. I am cloaked in crimson and fed by sacrifice. Do you know what I demand?” The words coated my tongue in rust. I swallowed hard. “Blood.” The mist pulsed, like laughter. “Yes, but it has to be yours. It must be freely given, without fear and without delay.” The claws scraped again. “ It has to be a wound of choice, one stroke, and one offering. Else the mountain drinks you whole.”

Just touched it to his lips. The gesture was so small, barely anyone noticed. All eight exit gates slammed shut at once. *Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.* The eight iron impacts ricocheted off the curved stone walls, rattling the shattered glass still clinging to the spectator stands. Behind every gate stood a line of heavily armed soldiers. Shields locked. Spears thrust through the gaps. Blade-tips gleaming cold under the blood moon. Eighty men. Every chestplate bore the Third Lord's house crest. A silver wolf, throat bound in chains.

But he turned away before I could read it, lifting his hand to signal the warriors at the gates. The ground shook as the first impact hit. Wolves hurled themselves against the iron, claws screeching against metal, teeth snapping. The gates groaned, torches flickering with the force. The pack howled back, a wall of sound that rattled my bones. “Hold,” Kade growled. His wolves froze, taut as bowstrings. Another crash, harder this time. Splinters rained from the wooden beams bracing the gates. “Hold.” The third strike ripped the world open. The gates burst inward, iron shrieking, wood splintering. Shadows poured through the breach—massive wolves, bigger than any I’d seen, their eyes glowing red

The candlelight flickered as I traced a line of text with my fingers. The words shimmered—then rearranged. I blinked. A new line appeared beneath the others, glowing softly. “When the blood is near, the gate will open.” “What gate?” I whispered. But before I could read more, a crash shook the room. I shot to my feet and ran for the stairs. Outside, warriors shouted. Flames flickered at the edge of the courtyard. Elias met me at the entrance. “A breach,” he growled. “Not from outside—from below.”

"Then stay at my side." He pulled out his gun, and we strode into the unknown side by side. The Threat Becomes Real Whatever made the noise came from one of the side gates. There was a guard on the ground, unconscious, blood seeping from his temple. But that was not the worst of it. There was another message attached to the gate. This one was not written on paper. It was painted—in blood—on the metal bars. "SHE'S MINE." A sickening fear swept over me.

Masika blinked her eyes open as she waited, and felt nothing on her skin. Seth stood in front of her, his hand mere inches from her exposed throat. Masika dropped her hand, and stared at him, waiting for him to cut her down. "You will not be performing your stupid sacrifice tonight Masika, and look at that," he said pointing at the little hole in the walls. "The sun's already rising, and the little portal that would have provided you with your indestructible armies closed up," he told her, pointing to the charred circle where the two crosses stood.

However, my steps halted. In front of the house's gate, the silhouettes of two people stood. Kent. He wasn't alone. A girl stood in front of him. They seemed very close, too close to be just friends. I narrowed my eyes, hoping my vision was playing tricks on me because of exhaustion. But then, Kent’s hand moved. He wasn't saying goodbye. His hand wrapped around the girl's waist with a movement so smooth, so familiar. His fingers pulled the girl’s body closer, leaving no space between them. My world stopped spinning.

But soon, my eyes fluttered open as a bucket of cold water splashed over me and met with another horrific sight of my life, which was added to the list of nightmares. Ernest Mervyn was standing, on the side of my dad's headless corpse with his burned head on the right hand and his heart on the left hand. "Here is your Wedding Gift, Darlo." He said with his emotionless face. How's the chapter, my dear Knights? That was so cruel. Wasn't that? Excited to read next? Love ya ❤ Vote, Comment, and Follow @Incarcerate_venus

But we climbed up in silence, reaching the third floor without making any sound. The restricted section was obvious. A metal gate blocked the corridor, covered in the same shifting symbols I'd seen at the laboratory. Blood wards. Fabian knelt, pulling out his knife. "Three minutes." He cut his palm; his dark blood came spilling out. The patterns he drew on the gate glowed faint red. I watched the hallway while he worked, with my knife out. I started to hear footsteps echo from somewhere; it sounded like it was coming towards us. "Fabian," I hissed.

Anna urged the mother. The guards regained their footing and drew their swords, some of them wielding them aimlessly at the crowd. Ezer, Zan and Gandr met three of the Blue Guards in a clash of metal. "Push against the gate before it closes!" Zan screamed. As one, the crowd moved against the outer gate, stopping its closure. Two guards still blocked the way, but as they each received an arrow in their thigh, the path became clear. Like a breaking dam, the people flooded into the street outside.