Writheblood Ruins の小説・ストーリー

She struggled to crawl as tears welled up in her eyes. "I never thought to end up in this situation crawling in the mud." Sh exclaimed to herself as she crawled closer to her wheelchair. "My God whatever my sin has been, forgive me, I never dreamed of crawling in the mud, but if it was for my daughter I would." she said and she cried non -stop because of her Situation. When she got to her wheelchair, she also had a hard time fixing it because it was upside down and were very dirty. She poured her energy into fixing it but she didn’t fix it.

Ruin “What the fuck, Ruin?” I drop the vamps heart to the ground and stomp on it before turning around and facing Blight, who’s wearing a look of disbelief in his face. Looking around at the surrounding carnage that I created, I can’t help but chuckle. “Oh, come off it, I thought you liked a little violence,” I say as I roll my eyes. “Yeah, carnage when it’s warranted, not…whatever the fuck this is,” he says, gesturing the the bodies strewn about. “Besides, this was supposed to be a quick pickup. What the hell happened?”

My axe met her wrist with three hard slams, detaching the wrist from her ulna and radius. Her screams echoed, her blood spewed relentlessly, and I reveled in her pain, giggling like a crazy lunatic. Turning to the camera, I waved the girl's hand to it, already aware that Ricardo was watching. After I had walked away, the continuous screams of the read-head kept echoing—screams I had decided to ignore until she began cursing at me again. Laughing maniacally, I strolled back to the girl who was seated on the ground, trembling with pain.

Back in my room, I pulled a folded piece of parchment from my dress. It was the exploration permit I’d just secured for the Aethel Ruins. The Aethel Ruins—the legendary burial grounds of the ancient vampire dynasties. Countless crystals of power lay buried there, and it was my only chance to find the strength to restore the Vance family name on my own. In my last life, I’d pinned all my hopes on Mortlock, never thinking to rely on myself. How foolish I was. I unfolded the permit. The date was clear: in seven days, I would be free of this prison.

work. I tried to pivot, to shield Rita with my back, but the butt of a tactical rifle connected with the base of my skull. The world didn't go black immediately; it dissolved into a sickening, swirling gray. I felt Rita being torn from my grip, her scream the last thing I heard before the floor rose up to meet me. I woke up to the smell of ozone and rust. I tried to stretch, but my knuckles hit cold, unforgiving metal. My knees hit the same. I was upright, pinned in a space so narrow I couldn't even draw a full breath. It was a vertical metal box, a coffin for the living, standing on end.

“Be warned.” This doesn’t just seduce you. It ruins you. For anyone else. For any future. For the life you thought you wanted. And once you’re ruined… there’s no going back.

Silver flames burned along the walls without heat, casting eerie light across hundreds of kneeling figures below. Hollows. Thousands of them. Their heads bowed in absolute silence. And at the center of it all. me. No. Her. The first Queen of Ruin sat upon a throne of obsidian, draped in dark armor lined with glowing cracks. A silver crown rested upon her head like it belonged there. Like it had never belonged anywhere else. Her face slowly lifted. And I was staring at myself. Same eyes. Same face. Only colder. Older. Broken in ways I couldn’t understand.

Fresh blood streaks downward in slow rivers, threading itself into the old runes like veins unwilling to die. The vent above gapes like a wound ripped too wide, and the ruined hinge hangs by a single twisted shard of metal. The shard, the same blood-slick blade I pried free from my own hand, stays tucked at my ribs, warm and humming against my cracked skin. I can feel it pulse in time with my heart, or maybe it’s the other way around. The walls don’t just crack; they bleed. Tiny trickles of black-red sludge seep from the mortar between stones, trailing like tears. It’s almost as if the Pit knows something worse than it is coming, and it’s afraid.

A CROWN OF FIRE Temple Ruins—Morning After the Ambush The dawn after the ambush rose blood-red, painting the temple ruins in streaks of gold and crimson. No smoke coiled from broken braziers. The snow beneath the ancient arches had turned pink with battle. The wind whispered through the stone like a voice retelling what had happened here.

When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital. The smell of dirt and blood that lingered before I passed out was gone. It was replaced by the familiar and comforting scent of disinfectant. My body was wrapped in bandages, especially my right hand. It was completely bundled up from my upper arm right down to my fingertips. I resembled a mummy. I had no idea how long I'd been trapped under that cupboard. I only felt an inexplicable sense of fear creeping over me. I was terrified of the aftermath should my hand be permanently damaged.