The House That Dripped Blood Cast Novels & Stories

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.

Blood dripped down from Lane’s face to her feet while her hands supported her mother from falling; those drops of blood came from her victims, not hers. When they arrived, the mansion’s white floor turned into a sea of blood, her traumatized eyes looking at Levi and me who still flew in the sea of love at that moment. “Holly shit!” I mumbled. At the time, our faces were pointed straight at both Lane and their mother, but my pussy still throbbed when Mr. Vampire stopped his waist movement, we were both shocked.

He saw Julian and was on his feet in a second, his body positioned between the door and my bed. “Julian,” Toby said, his voice a low warning. “You’re back.” “I’m back,” Julian said, with a raspy voice. He looked at me, ignoring Toby’s defensive posture. “Lisa. We need to talk. All of us.” Julian didn’t sit. He stood by the window, the grey Seattle light catching the bruises on his neck. He told us about the House of Bone. He told us about the vault, the concrete stairs, and the smell of twenty-year-old rot.

What should have been a forty-minute drive was forced down to half that time. The moment Luke stepped into the villa, a thick, metallic stench of blood hit him head-on. When he passed the pool, the water had already been drained. But along the edge, there were traces of dark stains of blood that were still wet. "What happened?" A servant collapsed to the floor, trembling so badly he could barely speak. After stammering for a long time, he still couldn't explain a single thing clearly.

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.

It would have made everything easier. As for work, I found myself hoping his final words had been personal and not professional. We still had some touch-ups of the project to finish before the complex could become fully operational. There were tests that still needed to be completed, and I needed him to remain steady and present for the time we had left. I should have known; endings are never clean. By the time I got home, it was around nine. The house felt still. I didn't turn on many lights. I didn't check my messages. I only wanted to sleep, the kind that could quiet everything for a few hours.

Megan stopped her words abruptly as she froze on her spot with her eyes widened. "Why did you stop, can we go now?" Damon asked with lines on his forehead. "I thought you said it's okay?" Slowly, she stretched her left hand forward, pointing just a few feet before her. Damon did not seem to understand and decided to follow her gaze to where it was fixed. "Look at that, Damon...?" Her voice was barely coming up, almost inaudible to the ears. "The continuous dripping of blood. It's from the ceiling." "Oh, that..." He said in a flat tone. "It's just ar..."

The instinct to protect what was his. Even from his own blood. Especially from his own blood. --- He tracked the scent to the east wing of the old house. The part no one used. Where the roof leaked and the floorboards remembered footsteps from decades ago. Elias was waiting. Of course he was. Men who left warnings in dead men's handwriting liked to watch them land. "She's dangerous." Elias didn't turn from the window. Below, the town moved through its morning, unaware. "The bloodline."