The House That Dripped Blood Cast Novels & Stories

I was not a murderer. I heaved a deep breath and relaxed back on the chair. •• Eventually, the car turned onto a narrow gravel path that cracked beneath the tires. There were no street lights here, only the car’s headlights slicing through the pitch-black ahead. My stomach tightened even more. Then I saw it. The house. More like a Castle. It stood alone, like it had been dropped into the forest from another world. Enormous, old, and dark. The kind of place that didn’t welcome guests—it warned them.

Two of Uncle Raven's security guards are to take Belle and the other women to a different room as he orders. The rest is all a blur. I briefly question whether this is real or a dream. My body and breathing are not perceptible to me. Dr. Halili takes a while to remove the bullet from Ethan's chest. I can't take my eyes off the gory scene as the needle pierces Ethan's flesh and injects blood into his body. I don't even avert my gaze from the pool of blood that is encircling him, like if it were his deathbed. While internally slapping my head, I continue to observe everything. Since it takes so long, Father sits down on a chair.

My legs feel heavy, as if the black earth wants to claim them, pull me down into the same memory it holds of all the others. A wind comes up, shifting ash in slow, eddying spirals. I tighten my cloak around my shoulders and step forward, ignoring the rasp of armor at my joints. I’m not dressed for mourning, but for intimidation: a breastplate chased with gold, the sigil of my House stark on the tabard. Still, there is no one left here to fear me.

"Doctor, my only request is that you write me a ten-day prescription for painkillers." Her hands trembled as she scrubbed further back through the footage. She found the day she had dragged me into the blood draw room. She watched the tube fill again and again with blood of the wrong color. The doctor beside her shook his head. "This patient must have been in the late stages of leukemia. When enough red blood cells are destroyed, the blood itself changes color." He did not notice the change in Winona's face. On the screen, the draw reached 33 ounces. My head sagged to the side.

I would stumble through the door, drunk and disoriented, while Ethan waited for me in the living room. He would clean me up, making sure that I would not choke on my own vomit. I would complain about how annoyingly fussy he was, but he never got mad. He would just smile and ask, "What if I take care of you like this for the rest of my life?" His eyes were so bright, like the surface of a lake. In that moment, through the haze of alcohol clouding my mind, I felt a rare trace of fear. That light was too pure and bright, revealing me for who I was.

But knowing something and acting on it are two different things. "I'm working on it," I say. "Work faster." Riven's tone is light, but her eyes are serious. "The Bloodmoon waits for no one. And from what I've heard, a Bloodwraith during the rise is not something you want to face unprepared." A chill runs down my spine despite the heat. "Have you seen one before? A Bloodwraith transformation?" She shakes her head. "But Torven has. He was in Ardorfell during the Crimson Purge fifteen years ago. Said he saw a Bloodwraith tear through an entire battalion of Dominion soldiers in less than ten minutes. Said it was like watching death itself given form."

--- Dinner was… an experience. The menu consisted of dishes that looked normal enough—roasted meats, glazed vegetables—but every goblet at the table was filled with blood. I stuck to water. Which, by the way, made me the only person in the room not drinking blood, and I could feel the curious stares from the other guests.

I could remember the walls of the tiny house to be clean and painted with pure white color. But when I stepped into the house, it's walls were covered with red splashes all over. Even the ceiling had that splashed stains all over. As if someone might have filled the tank with red paint and showered it all over the house. But it was not paint I was able to smell. It was something else. Something I was not expecting. Or maybe something I was afraid of expecting. My heart was drumming into my ribcage as if I knew something bad was about to happen. I looked for my family in every single corner of the house. But I did not find a single soul but the blood bath. Yes, it was blood that was all over

Jax sped all the way home. It was the longest drive of Aiden’s life. Sara was texting Dr. Clarke and having them get the pack hospital ready for all three of their wounded. “How did you guys miss those traps?” Jax asked Sara after a while of driving. “We went in knowing he would have them set up.” Sara rolled her eyes at him and finished her text before answering.

So I grabbed my teddy bear and walked down the stairs. When I came into the kitchen, I didn't saw my daddy and my mommy standing there, arguing and fighting. I just saw my mommy laying on the floor in a puddle of blood. The red liquid was coming out of her belly and flooded around her. Her eyes were wide open and her brown hair had become red of her blood. I whispered her name and grabbed her hand as I knelt next to her. The tears were falling down my cheeks like a waterfall. Her blood was now on my white pajamas. My hands were painted with her blood as I tried to shake her awake.