Whip Cane Bloodborne の小説・ストーリー

On each of the trays, I notice various clear packages of syringes and sterilized medical implements. What the hell are they going to do to me ?!!! My body is immobilized by the Velcro straps pinning me down to the gurney and my protests remain muffled by the duct tape on my mouth. They begin drawing my blood into a couple of tubes and vials for lab testing. Once he was done, he glances at my leg wounded earlier by Ilona and he shakes his head. "This will deduce points off her market value, how the hell did this happen?"

He said. *** I bit down hard on my lips drawing blood as the wolfsbane laced with silver whip came down on my bare back. I felt my skin rip open with a new wound as the whip came down on my back again and again, this time, leaving an injury worse than the previous one

He was drowning in a sea of suspicion and dark, forbidden attraction. "The whip," I said, reaching out my hand. The executioner handed me a specialized lash. The handle was wrapped in rough sharkskin, the length of the leather soaked in brine and caustic spirits, its tip studded with obsidian shards the size of a wolf’s claw. In our world, this whip didn't just take skin—it took the will to live. I snapped the whip once in the air. Crack. The sound echoed like a lightning strike.

“I’m okay. Just a cut.” Connor and I drag the unconscious pair to a nearby crate and lock them inside before we go and help the others. Within minutes all of the action dies down. While some of our men gather Waltman and Lynch, Corbin disinfects and bandages the cut in my arm. I flinch when he takes out a syringe. “It’s for the infection. It’s not very deep, but it's probably best if we don’t take any chances,” he mutters. Cringing, I nod my head and grit my teeth as the needle pierces the skin.

I feel dizzy, my body is weak and feverish and I can’t sense the other werewolves on the island. I cough and drop to the ground. That magic is the real deal. The whip is not all-powerful, but it can derail a werewolf. Its use depends on the human who’s using it. That’s why the Owusu’s are trained from a very young age to use it. There are only what? Twelve of those whips around? Although, Nowra said that they have mimicked its qualities outside, but not as powerful as the original.

I look over at Mane Beatrice again and beg knowing that with the combination of the iron in the shackles around my wrists and what is in the whip my healing would be that of a human as iron suppresses our WereGene. She just smirks and watches. I scream as the first lash of the whip cracks across my back and I then scream until the very last one, whimpering that I was sorry and begging for her to make it stop. She didn’t and about halfway through my knees collapsed and I just hung from my wrists. When Duke had reached the total of 20 lashes, he curled and hung up the whip next to me so that I could see the blood dripping from the long thin iron-infused leather whip. He then moved placing his

I asked, looking at the sad look on the pack doctor's eyes, RAYMOND. "Many things are wrong with her, Alpha,"he said, and I gulped down into nothing. "First she was being malnourished. With the look of things, she wasn't given any food, not even water to drink. And she was beaten with a snake whip which made things worse,"he said, and I gasped out in shock. "What! Snake… whip…"I shuddered with a shock expression, and he nodded his head gently. Snake whip is a deadly and dangerous whip which is filled with dark poison and oak which burns the skin of a werewolf.

"Kay, as the pack heir, you also handled this situation improperly." Kay lowered his head. "Yes, Father. I accept my punishment." But he immediately looked up, pointing at me. "However, Ella's negligence must also be punished! Otherwise, it won't satisfy the pack! I suggest stripping her of her access to core tactical planning and sentencing her to the silver whip, as an example!" The silver whip! That was a whip laced with silver threads, excruciatingly painful to wolves, like burning the soul. It would severely delay wound healing and could even leave permanent scars and energy damage. Gasps of shock rippled through the crowd.

Bright red blood trickled through his fingers, mingling with whiskey and champagne, creating a chaotic mess on the floor. I withdrew my gaze in astonishment from the bloodied man on the floor and turned my attention to Harrison, who stood before him. I noticed that Harrison held in his hand a half-shattered bottle of whiskey. Harrison glanced down at the blood on the bottle, a look of disgust crossing his face. Whether he found the tool inadequate or was repulsed by the man's blood staining his hand, I can't tell. In any case, in the next moment, Harrison raised his wrist and casually tossed the broken whiskey bottle aside.

“I wanted to introduce you to the whip next in your training, just to be prepared.” “No.” “Lila, you might not have a choice out there. What I do… it’s not like what you see in movies. I’m not trying to tear skin. I would never hurt you past the point of what feels incredible to you. I’d only arouse you, I swear.” My mind spins. “But whips draw blood.” “Only if they’re meant to. With the right technique and equipment, it just wakes up your skin, makes it tingle just like a heavy spanking. Physically, the blood rushes to the surface, stimulating the nerves and–”