Total Bleach Episode Novels & Stories

His startled scream follows me to the table where I wipe the excess blood from my hands. There's a bottle of water and a decanter filled with scotch with glasses beside it. I fill up a glass with scotch and take a few sips before placing it back on the table. Stooping to get the bleach from the ground, I turn back to Kostas who is finally silent and trying to breathe through the waves of pain. Kneeling to my art on his leg, I open the bottle, the smell sharp enough to sting even through the air. I tilt the bottle watching the clear liquid as it trickles before becoming a steady stream moving through his wounds. Kostas jerks as the bleach eats into the cut tissue letting out gasps of pain.

I demanded, fury in my voice. Jade smirked, holding up a bottle of bleach. The strong, stinging smell hit my nose, and panic shot through me. “Oh no!" I shrieked, feeling the bleach burn my scalp. My hands flew to my head, desperately trying to wipe it away, but the taps in every room I tried were dry. They’d planned this. Minutes and minutes passed as they each blocked my way into every room for about 10 minutes. “Help!” I screamed, running to my room’s bathroom and plunging my head under the faucet. My heart sank as I watched strands of my hair fall out, and my once-brown hair turn a fiery, unnatural red and brown.

Harper’s POV My leg knocks into something, and it clatters to the ground. “Crap,” I mutter bleach spills out faster than I can catch it. The clear liquid rushes out of the bottle, spilling everywhere. By the time I stand the bottle back up, a large puddle sits in the middle of the floor. I grab for some rags, but there aren’t enough to soak up the entire spill. The acidic scent of bleach fills the air and sends my head spinning.

Belle’s pov. The room is too clean. That’s the first thing I register as I come back to myself. Not the ache in my shoulders or the chill in the air—but the smell. Bleach. Metal. Something chemical and sterile that coats the back of my throat. It’s not a hospital. It’s too quiet. Too calculated. The kind of clean you only find in places designed to strip people down. Wash them of dignity. Of identity. Of hope.

He looks at David, grunts, and tosses him the last heel of sourdough, preserved and re-preserved so many times that it bounces when it lands on the counter. Darrel appears next, two flights down, carrying with him the bright lemony stench of disinfectant: David can tell already that he’s poured half the bottle on his hair for the inaugural bleach. “If I obliterate the pigment, maybe the wolf will just come out white and skittish and leave everyone alone,” he says, which is funny because Darrel’s the only one of the three who’d enjoy the attention.

I guess we're dying my hair black—from what I could see, but first we had to bleach it. I stared through the bathroom mirror we were in front of as she layered each strand with bleach and foil, and we both glanced away when our eyes met through the mirror. This was weird. She led me to the shower cubicle, where she picked up a handheld showerhead, and I gasped when the water suddenly hit me without warning. "You..." She shrugged, "I thought you were ready." "Clearly I wasn't!" I made to grab the showerhead for my revenge but only ended up against the wall with her body pressing up against mine.

Increase the dose. I suck in air too fast. The room tilts. Jeremy catches it on my face. "Adis." "Bleach," I mutter. "There was a room. Clinic room." His good hand grips the back of my neck, grounding me. "Stay here." As if I can do anything else. Boots hammer across concrete. More people now. Familiar scents break through blood and dust. Soap and pine smoke. Amber. Panic hits harder than the shock did.

The uneasiness inside me tripled, the smell of bleach rose bile in my throat. This was her roommate's old room. I appreciated the effort, but why go through such extremes to clean a room? It was sterile and had no hint of personality. Was the school determined to hide something? The scene uprooted that nagging question to the forefront of my mind: what happened to her other roommate? And would the same thing become of me?

Was life even worth living? Tears rolled down my cheeks as I reflected on the past few weeks. "I can't do this anymore!" My voice bounced off the walls of the bathroom. After looking around for a moment, I reached out to the small shelf. I pulled off the large bottle of bleach on the bottom. I uncapped it. After looking at the clear liquid for a brief moment, I brought the bottle to my lips and drew my head back.

he screamed, stepping back. I grabbed the bleach bottle and hit him on the side his head as hard as I could, causing him to step backward. I took advantage of his momentary unbalance as he rubbed his eyes, knowing that I only had a second. I unscrewed the cap from the bleach bottle and threw the contents at him, causing him to scream out in pain as bleach covered his face and hair. I grabbed the broom and, finding sudden strength, rammed my foot into the wooden handle, breaking it in half.