The Red Sleeve Novels & Stories

The slaves had brought out two full hanging shelves. One held clothes for me and the other for Nik. All of them were red in colour. "Why red?" I asked. "Red is a sacred colour for vampires," Nik said as he went through his clothes. I hummed as I went through the beautiful dresses.

Even after spending a considerable amount of time within the fire, the spell enchanted on the sleeve rendered it indestructible. One of the soldiers was able to rip it off and throw it over to the side of the field that was not engulfed in flames. The other undead knights swarmed around the sleeve, scratching its fur. Their perseverance paid off soon after, and streams of violet and black smoke began to emerge from the sleeve. They stood their ground, while others were hit by tongues of smoke, which would seep into their armour and through their chests.

~Soren~ The red blotch on my wrist looks more terrible in the daylight. I pull my hoodie sleeve down but it keeps riding up. I'm at the cafeteria with my friends when I feel the pull. I look up, and sure enough, there he is across the cafeteria with Marcus and Carter. He is laughing at something Marcus said, his head thrown back, and the sight does something unfortunate to my insides. He’s wearing a gray Henley today. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and in doing so, revealing his forearms, and I have to physically make myself not stare.

Jasmine. There were times I felt like Ruby knew much more than she was letting on. She furrowed her eyebrows, slapping her chest. "That dress just hugs every curve in a way that makes me want to bleach my eyes." She screeched when I came out of the dressing room. The fitted bodice of the red gown I had gotten hugged my curves like a second skin, and the corset intricate boning pushed my breast upwards. But the ruffled sleeves. The ruffled sleeves were like a girl's delight. Delicate and airy, it framed my shoulders like wisps of cloud, their layered texture catching the light with every movement I made.

"Don’t be ungrateful, milady. Look upstairs." The unknown voice cut through the party's hum. Diana looked up immediately. There he stood, swirling his wine cup before raising it toward her in a mock toast. He was dressed entirely in crimson—a sharp, red suit that matched her own gown perfectly. A black mask obscured his face, mirroring her own. Bryan followed her gaze to the balcony, his jaw tightening as he took in the stranger. "Is he the 'well-wisher' you spoke about?"

And Marie hopped on the bus. The ride went on for hours, but it still wasn’t long enough. On the final leg of the journey, she found herself glancing longingly at the countryside, at the other passengers, at anything that she could think about wistfully. She did not want to be where she was going to be. She didn’t want to see the original monster. Marie carried a tiny scrap of red hoodie that the police said she could have. It was cut out of the original and hemmed neatly around the edges. No fraying. No sawing of blood and bone and fabric and darling little girls.

i stated, "Oh, there is a card as well" she got out a card in the gift bag and read it out loud, "Its from Saul" she said, "What does it say?" I asked her "Theme color is Red, thought Sofia forgot to mention it during your shopping", I felt a different type of anger as I read the card out loud "Sofia is trying to make me a laughing stalk" I said to Rose "Don't get upset over it, at least Saul has saved the day, see, he cares about you", I was left with no choice but to wear the red dress,

Ryle calmly asked, raising her brow. “Who are you to question?” Bruce growled. He’s one of our more traditional males who believes that women aren’t made to fight. They are made to be seen and not heard. Ryker bristled at Bruce’s comment. “My name is Ryker RedFang and she,” he pointed to his sister, “is my sister, Ryle RedFang and we are RedFang Defense, your Elite warrior trainers and my sister is your future Luna.” he smirked.

Theo moved between her and the mirror instinctively. But then the writing returned, this time etched across the top of the frame like a crown: SHE HAS TO REMEMBER. Sloane’s hands went cold. “What am I supposed to remember?” she whispered. Theo turned to her, voice steady but low. “It’s you. The woman in red. She wasn’t just a metaphor, was she?” “I thought she was fictional.” “You wrote her.” “I was her.” She staggered back toward the stone wall and sank to her knees, sketchbook clutched against her chest.

"How about I invite him home? I can't stand being without you." A wave of revulsion washed over me when I saw that face. I didn't know how I could stand the affectation before. Pushing his head away, I continued packing. Jeffrey took my hand, but at that moment, he realized that the bracelet that had long been strangled into my flesh was not in my wide sleeve. His smile instantly froze. "Where's the bracelet? Where did it go? Obviously, you can't take it off." He knew that it was a bracelet that didn't really fit me.