The House That Dripped Blood Cast Novels & Stories

I nodded my head doing a mental check on all the things I needed to do before leaving, I need my bags, and a shower, I could still smell the blood. The car came to a stop in front of a building, it was an abandoned cabin surrounded by nothing but trees for miles, it had broken windows, and a huge sign with red paint splattered all over it, that looked almost like dried blood, on the one intact window, the fake blood wrote ‘GET OUT’ a mark in the front that almost looked like a gash.

The battlefield was painted in blood and shadow. The air tasted of iron and despair, thick with the smoke of burning timber and the acrid stench of supernatural flame. Rain had begun to fall not the gentle rain of mourning, but a harsh deluge that turned dust to mud and made the stones slick with a mixture of water and blood that pooled in every crack and crevice.

"Pathetic." The tension mounted. Violence was imminent. Revira gripped the back of Rakar's jacket, scared half to death. "ENOUGH!" The voice came from Eldric. The Elder stepped forward, slicing the tension like a hot knife through butter. He hadn't shouted, but his voice carried an authority that made Goran and the other warriors immediately lower their heads. "This child is dying," Eldric said coldly, looking at Goran. "He carries the Moon Blood. If he detonates here because you blocked his path, your blood will be the first to boil."

Something is wrong. She dashed towards the door and yanked it open. She stepped out and paused. Outside was a mess. Everyone were crying and running at all directions. Blood was splattering everywhere, and fresh bones scattered on the ground. The ground itself was red, full of blood like a river. Everyone were crying yet the cries were inaudible. Tears smeared on their faces but Mira can't hear any single sound. It's like the world felt silent, muting the sound of horror.

She craved to be chosen openly, shamelessly with no hesitation. When he entered her life, he gave her exactly that, intense affection, gentle touches, long conversations, and a kind of desire she had never known. For a sheltered girl who has always felt invisible, his warm affection always felt like a light at the end of a tunnel. But behind the desire lay something heavier. His temper, his violent stories, the weight of his complicated past, and the quiet way he consumed her emotionally began to drain her. Torn between the only man who made herpersonal story about the dangers of being intensely desired and the courage it takes to choose oneself over the person who makes you feel everyth

Drip. At first I thought it was the leaky sink in the hallway. But the sound was coming from behind the wall above my head. I sat up slowly. The room smelled wrong. Like iron. Like rust. Then came the sound—squelch. Like something soft and wet being dragged along stone. A sickening line of red trickled down from the corner where wall met ceiling. Not water. Not ink. Blood. I blinked. It kept coming. Thick. Red. Fresh.

A drop of blood slid from beneath his shirt and hit the floor. The house inhaled. That was the only way I could describe it. The walls creaked inward. The window rattled once. The mirror went dark behind us. Then the floorboards beneath Damien’s feet absorbed the blood. Not stained. Not soaked. Absorbed. The drop disappeared into the wood like the house had swallowed it. I froze. Damien looked down. Another drop fell. The wood drank that one too. A whisper moved through the room. Not my mother’s voice.

“We’re creating power before he’s even old enough to claim it.” I exhaled, watching the details unfold before us. “Isn’t that the point?” Leonardo’s smirk was slow, deliberate. “It’s more than that, Xena.” I turned toward him, tilting my head slightly. “Then tell me what it is.” He reached for my hand, fingers curling against mine with controlled precision. “It’s permanence.” And just like that, everything shifted. Rome was silent the night our heir came into the world. The estate was locked down—every entrance secured, every access point fortified, the medical team stationed within the private wing. No threats. No interruptions. Only the quiet hum of expectation.

Maybe she was inside and couldn’t hear me because of some sort of soundproofing, even though the house didn’t look like it had soundproofing. I opened the door to one room. It was empty. Then I moved to the next room. When I opened the door, I saw a pool of blood on the floor at the center of the room. It had seeped through some clothes on the floor and the floorboards and was spreading rapidly. I took a few steps closer to it, crouched down, and slowly touched the blood. When I did, the blood was wet, dripping back from my fingers onto the floor—not dried and sticky, like someone who had been left there for days. This was a very recent occurrence.

Drifting into the dirt path, I slammed on the breaks as I came behind my father’s truck. Getting out, I slammed the door shut and jumped the stairs. Opening the door I looked in. She wasn’t here. No one was. The house looked like chaos though. There was a pot that spilled over on the oven, shattered glass against the far wall, the shards still on the floor. I could see footprints in blood, as though they walked on the glass. Going into the bathroom, I put my arm in my mouth and bit down hard. There was blood all over the tub. There was also a ton of blood in the bedroom on the floor. What the fuck had happened? Where the fuck was my mate?