The House That Dripped Blood Cast Novels & Stories

Warm. I gasped, my hands sinking into a thick, viscous liquid. My breath hitched. The scent hit me first. Metallic. Sharp. Blood. It was everywhere. I scrambled up, my fingers coated in red, my gown soaked through. The entire floor—no, the entire room—was drenched in it, seeping from the walls, pooling in the corners, dripping from the ceiling in slow, deliberate drops. Drip. Drip. Drip. I trembled, my heart pounding against my ribs as I staggered backward. My breath came in sharp, panicked gasps. This couldn’t be real. It wasn’t real.

And after everything the scandal, her erratic behavior, the fact that she wasn’t fully stable it was the last thing he’d have done. Something cold and uneasy tightened in my chest. Without another word, I pushed past them and rushed into the house. Closing the door behind me. My footsteps echoed down the hallway, fast and uneven. “Jay?” I called. “Lena?” Silence. The entire house was dim, the soft golden lights casting long shadows across the marble floor. Everything looked… wrong. Too still. Too quiet. Then I saw what made my soul left my body. At the bottom of the grand staircase blood.

Suddenly, the three bodies turned into ashes and mixed with the blood. I watched this with shaken legs, holding my breath to prevent inhaling the stench of the room. I would have attempted getting into the house but I was scared of dipping my leg in the blood. Draven was nowhere in sight, neither was Karen or the other ABBADON sister. I started to step back slowly, tears slipping from my eyes. Who did this?

I didn’t know where I was supposed to go. But my feet kept moving forward, even though something inside me screamed to turn back and run. Then I saw it. A drop of blood. Dripping from the ceiling. Landing on the back of my hand. I swallowed hard and slowly lifted my face. Someone was there. Hanging from the ceiling. I held my breath. Dylan. His eyes were empty, his lips parted like trying to say something, but no sound came out. Blood dripped from the gaping wound on his neck, falling slowly, forming a crimson pool on the wooden floor below.

An hour dragged by like a blade across bone. I’d torn through the house. Literally. Guards screamed. Maids begged. Fingers hit the floor in wet thuds—pinkies first, then ring fingers, then whole hands when the lies kept coming. Blood soaked the rugs, pooled in the hallways, dripped from banisters. The smell was thick—copper and piss and fear. And still… nothing. Not one name. Not one clue. Not one single fucking coin. My hands were sticky with other people’s blood. My rings were crusted red. My chest felt like it was going to explode.

The ancient affirmation that I heard used in a clearing in the dark for a different purpose, turned now toward something it was always better suited for. Aldric looks at me again. "The last heir of the Moonblood line," he says. And then he stops. And what he does next is not in the formal script, I can tell by the way the hall shifts slightly, by the way the other elders exchange glances. He steps down from his position and he looks at me directly, just a man now, all the titles stripped away, and he says: "Forgive an old wolf who was wrong." The hall is very still.

I feel like a monster now. "Anything I can do to help." Dr. Emerson led us down a long corridor before opening the door into the lab. Towards the back of the lab the vials of blood were held. Dr. Emerson looked worried about me being around all that blood, as though I would go berserk simply knowing all that blood was there.

“Speak to us. Show us what you need.” I felt the pull immediately. The house fought it, but the words opened a crack. I focused everything I had and pushed through. The table shook. A cold wind swept through the room, extinguishing two candles. Priya gasped as a single drop of dark liquid appeared on the ceiling above them, slowly forming letters that dripped down like blood: “He buried me here.” Elena’s eyes widened. “There is violence here. A woman. Killed in this house. Her body is close.”

The blood starts pouring out of my mouth uncontrollably, I cough while splashes of blood defile the ground under me. “Don't be scared, I'm not going to hurt you”, the shade rubs the back of its hand down my cheek, “I'm just going to drain your body of its worthless life”. The shadow figure laughed maniacally in my face. I sense the thirst for blood and the hatred towards me. I start to turn to run, but my body immediately falls limp. I start to military crawl, dragging my legs across the floor.

It took even longer for her to walk herself down the stairs weeping silently the entire way to the locked door of her fathers study. I could smell the rich fresh blood coming all over the house, heady in its deliciousness. It came from the dining room where someone had been packing the dishes away then downstairs where I am sure my sire slaughter all the household staff but it was the slow and steady sound of dripping blood, damn near drove me to distraction.