Writheblood Ruins Novels & Stories

Through the window, I saw many peers of horrible red-glowing eyes staring at me. "Alyssa!" I cried. "Hold on," she said and did this unexpected thing- Alyssa slammed her black Benz against the side of the undead's, causing them to sway off the road. "Yeah!" Cammie cheered. "That's what I'm talking about!" But the red one bummed us from behind with a loud thump. We jolted forward. I heard Cammie swear something in Russian. Alyssa punched on the gas and swerved hard onto another street and then hauled up the bridge. The sports cars followed suit. I felt as if we were in a racing tournament.

She stirred in my arm and I feared she was about to throw up again before she nuzzled closer to my chest. The elevator doors dinged before sliding open and I made my way inside, the sensor lights automatically turning on. I headed straight to my bedroom, dropping her onto my bed. I had a spare room here but it wasn't furnished. I didn't see a need for that since I never had anyone over. “My poor bed,” I groaned. She reeked of alcohol and vomit with makeup smeared across her face, staining my white pillowcase. I grabbed a washcloth from my bathroom and tried to clean some of the makeup and drool from her face and neck, watching the color return to her face while she innocently pouted her lips

GABRIELE'S POV The basement smelled like copper and piss and death. I looked at my bloodstained hands and the knife that was still dripping with blood. This was who I was. A monster. A killer. And anyone who threatened what was mine ended up exactly like this. Dead in my basement. I pulled out my phone and called Angelo as I walked to the door. "It's done," I said when he answered. "Send the cleanup crew. Dispose of the body and leave no trace."

Abigail shouted. She had someone to open a box. "I fixed your suit. At least take a look!" I glanced at it briefly. The torn areas of the suit had been mended with gold thread, but the once-refined design was completely ruined and looked gaudy. "I already said that I don't want it. No matter how much I once liked something, once it's damaged, it's ruined," I said. I looked at her coldly. "Abigail, I don't love you anymore. I'm Grace's fiance. Please show some respect from now on."

I touched them gently, a shiver running down my spine. I turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until the water was hot enough to scald. Steam quickly filled the small room, fogging up the mirror and obscuring my reflection. I stepped under the spray, letting the hot water cascade over my body, washing away the sweat and stickiness of the night before. As the water ran down my body, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. I thought of Leo's hands on me, his cock buried deep inside me, the way he'd whispered filthy promises in my ear. My hand drifted down my stomach, my fingers brushing against my swollen clit.

The water in the streams ran dark. "This is the Blight," Aria said, her voice hushed. "I can feel it. It's... hungry." "Hungry for what?" Lira asked. "Life. Spirit. Everything." They reached the marshes on the third day. The ruin was older than anything Lira had ever seen—a structure of black stone, half-sunken in the mire. Runes covered its surface, pulsing with a cold, grey light. And at its center, a figure stood—a wolf made of shadow and frost.

Not like a daughter, but like a decision he hadn't finished making yet. The pause stretched long and heavy between them. Elena didn't cry. She didn't scream. She only stood there, exhausted in a way she didn't know a person could be at twenty three, the same bone, deep exhaustion she'd met once before, two years ago, in the cramped bathroom of this same house, when she'd tried to end her life and failed, and had never quite finished deciding whether that had been a mercy or not. Too tired to fight. Too tired to care.