The House That Dripped Blood Cast Novels & Stories

Everyone knew how toxic monster blood could become once exposed for too long. The others also instinctively stepped back slightly. Then suddenly... Footsteps echoed from inside the destroyed room. Darren casually walked out moments later, completely covered in monster blood from head to toe. His expression remained calm as though he had merely finished taking out ordinary pests rather than high-level monsters. Without saying a word, he immediately pulled off his soaked shirt before walking toward a nearby well located directly in front of the five houses. Ethan stared at him with raised eyebrows. "Is that water even clean?" he asked skeptically.

That was where I saw the blood dripping on his side. No. “Drex!”

***Dru's POV*** The air hangs thick as roux left to scorch in a cast-iron pot, humidity gluing my shirt to my spine. Around us, Vermilion Court simmered—a dead-end strip of cracked asphalt where shotgun houses slumped like drunks against each other. Spanish moss dripped from waterlogged oaks, their gnarled roots buckling the sidewalks into jagged stone teeth. Somewhere, a screen door whined on rusted hinges, slapping rhythmically against a frame bloated with rot.

"There is b—blood down there." "What?" She back away from the hole, pointing at it with a shaky finger. "Blood, Val. There's blood in there." I walked up to the hole to take a look. And sure enough, there was blood on the surrounding floor boards. Dried blood. "I was trying to scrub the floor and the board moved." Veronica explained, her voice still full of fear.

The white face towel she used to wipe out the blood was painted with my blood. I was soaked in blood, too, more than before; the metallic stench hit my senses hard this time. At this point, my thinking went from my present situation to how my Dad would feel if he heard this; he had always worried that these little health issues would escalate. I didn't picture this day coming, that I would bleed out two pants of my blood in a few minutes. My eyes began tearing up. If this is to be my end, I should know better.

My mind, already a storm, flares brighter. Vanda pulls back to look at me, concern etched into his expression, before stepping into the bathroom. I stay rooted, unable to move, the dried blood on my skin itching like a cruel reminder. The sink runs briefly, and Vanda reappears with a damp washcloth. Wrapping an arm around my back, he guides me to the bed. I sit stiffly as he gently cleans the blood from my face. “I need her here,” I croak, my voice hoarse.

To make it more meaningful for them, I locked the three of them in the Stormbringers’ villa—in the same basement room where Bran once lived. Celina had once told Bran that the basement wasn’t bad. She told him it was totally livable — bright, with a ventilation shaft. I had surveillance cameras installed and reinforced the door with a solid iron grille. Now I wanted to see how this family of three survives in what they once called a “totally livable” space. They’d better not disappoint me.