Wolfenstein Old Blood Chapters Novels & Stories

Steam whispers from the water’s surface as crimson flakes spiral in. Old Wolf (sniffing, cautious): “…This scent…” He sniffs the red-glowing pool again, ears flattening. A low whine escapes his throat. Old Wolf (soft growl): “She lives. The fire’s child… she bleeds.” He drinks—and convulses. His eyes roll back. His muscles lock. A howl claws up from his throat—strange, haunting. A memory from ages buried. Old Wolf (hoarse whisper, almost human):

Her heart raced faster as bad thoughts clouded her mind. His eyes went back to his phone’s screen and he immediately picked up the call. “Hello?” he spoke. “Is this Mr. Allen?” the person on the other end asked and immediately, Mr. Allen felt his blood pressure slowly begin to rise. “Y—Yes.” He managed to reply with beads of sweat on his face as he expected the worst. “Sir, I’m afraid I have bad news.” … Before the wolf could attack her, it suddenly changed its course while in mid-air and crashed into a tree by the side.

The bond in my chest pulsed weakly in reply. Then from outside—a long, low howl broke through the rain and fog. Not Nightbane. Not ordinary wolves. They were back. And that night, my first blood wasn’t spilled for war… but to save the one woman even the Elders feared. ***

Not the tech weapons, but old-school killers, designed to poison wolf blood irreparably. Zeph's body jerked as the first bullet slammed into his shoulder, spinning him halfway. The second punched through his chest, blood blooming dark and instant. Third, fourth, fifth… relentless, a storm of silver tearing through flesh and bone. He crumpled to his knees, ropes snapping taut then slack as he fell forward, eyes wide in shock and pain. Thrilling horror surged through me like ice water in my veins… time fractured, stretching into an endless, agonizing crawl. The room dissolved into a nightmarish blur of stuttering muzzle flashes, sharp and white, and thick curls of acrid gunsmoke that burned my

Then my leg stuck on stuff like a rope and I fell down on the floor, banged, and my chest against the floor. And my body pained like a hell. I stretched my body trying to get back and all of sudden, I felt my hand wet, I know it was not water not blood cause if it was blood I would have known its scent. I stand back and slowly walked outside from the door in the light. I lifted my hands in the light to see what was it. And it shocked me and scared me out of hell when I saw it. It was blood. And I didn’t get the smell of blood, How could that happen? I easily recognized the scent of Karien this morning. How is it possible I didn’t scent the blood which was the most sensible scent for werewolv

There was a small hole in Sean's stomach he vomited blood and collapsed. Iris' arm was covered in his blood, Marissa grasped Iris' cheeks and found an empty and lifeless eyes. Shaking her up and she lost consciousness. What the hell is going on? This was an unexpected fight when everyone placed their bets on Sean. How is it possible that a human killed a wolf?

He found her in the estate's library. Isla had not touched the library, another characteristic blind spot, the same category as Lucien's garden. Isla was not interested in the past. She was interested in the present and the future and the management of both, and the Silver Moon Pack's library was purely historical. Old texts, old records, old wolf law going back to the pack's founding. Vivienne had found a section of the library that hadn't been touched in years and had pulled every text on Blood Oath law that existed in the collection. They were spread across the long central table in the systematic arrangement of someone conducting research with the furious efficiency of controlled rage.

There was a network glitch for some time, and the page couldn't load on time, but finally, after refreshing the page through gritted teeth, the cure finally stood before me. I began to read it aloud: drain all the blood in the body of the werewolf. Refill the werewolf with the blood of another werewolf mixed with vitamins within the next two minutes; an extra minute brings the werewolf closer to death. It is a fifty-fifty chance. Good luck. What the fuck! The blood of another werewolf?

The smell of blood and smoke suffocated me and made me nauseous. But nothing could stop me. Then... I smelled it. Marilyn's scent. Faint... Mixed with... another scent. A familiar scent... blood. I ran. I ran with everything I had left. And when I turned the corner of one of the fallen houses... I was met with hell. A gigantic, gray, monstrous wolf. Covered in scars from ancient battles. Roaring as it bit Marilyn's neck. It dragged her along, rubbing her body on the ground as if she were nothing.

When I reach the cliff again, I see Alex. His throat has been cut open. Blood sprays from the severed artery. He gasps for air. His hands claw helplessly at the wound. He struggles. For two long minutes. Then— Silence. — The fourth time. Melissa. Wolf claws tear through her torso. Blood spreads across the ground, turning the moonlight deep crimson. She coughs. Collapses. And doesn’t rise again. — Again. And again. And again. The people I love. My friends.