Blood On Canvas Novels & Stories

Marve said. I held onto the painting and gently caressed it with a smile on my face. That was when I felt it, a sudden bump at the edge of the painting. It was children’s painting so the canvas was just placed into the frame, meaning it was easy to put and easy to remove too. “I feel something……there’s something here” I said as I intensified the search on the painting with my fingers until I found it. We all left the room now as we all sat at the reception and I finally brought out the canvas and a black chip fell out as I picked it up.

"Yes, Headmistress!" “Good. Now, line up!” I was shocked when a vampire quickly approached the group but there were more lined up with Xenon. The woman in front was smiling at him but she remained emotionless. What's wrong with him? There is a small screen on the table of each line. There is also a red circle. You should press it and it will show who you are and what you are, I guess because that's what I see. Each member will look at that and give them a card with a color, I just don't know what the meaning of each color they gave.

It wasn't finished yet and I'd thought about finishing it before I was told I would be marrying a stranger. I followed the thick purple brushes against the canvas with my eyes, tracing the purple paint flowing out of a flipped car. I'd used purple as blood for about six years now because I wasn't able to stand the sight of red. I shifted my eyes to the rest of the different sized canvases, wondering what they were doing here. As I was staring down at the canvases, I saw a small droplet of water hit the purple paint. A frown covered my face before I tiled my head up and stared at the sky.

Just a few touch here and there. Perfect. I pick up the canvas carefully—it's still wet in places—and carry it over to her, positioning it right in front of her face. She looks at it. Really looks at it. And the horror that floods her expression is exquisite. The painting shows her—or rather, what she's about to become in approximately three minutes. Slumped in the chair. Head lolling at that unnatural angle that only happens when the cervical spine is completely severed. Blood pooling beneath the chair in a spreading circle that almost looks like a halo.

The naked baby is bleeding as a knife is stuck in it's chest and both the woman and he baby are in the belly of a fierce looking cobra. This weird painting is a work of art. I held the canvas carefully and took it off the wall. I turned it back to look at it. As expected, the back is sealed. I walked to my desk and dropped the canvas carefully on one side of my desk without scattering anything already on my desk.

However, underneath that sadistic amusement was a much deeper emotion, charged with indescribable sorrow. He looked away from the two younger women and studied Hannah's expression instead. The base color of the artwork he had given Hannah was dark, and the blotches of black paint on the canvas felt almost oppressing. They were like storm clouds in the sky just before a thunderstorm. Dark brush strokes revealed a setting sun on the horizon. The sun was a deep crimson, and it looked like the color of blood. There was also a field painted in the artwork, and a singular metal cage was on that field.

There is still one corner left. Perhaps this blank is meant to remind her that life isn't flawless and that there will always be flaws. Ada Wood throws brush and spray paint on the ground before lying down and staring at the blue sky. Originally, her world could not only be gray but also red. The brilliant red of her blood is the color of her life. This is the only artwork with color in it. Unlike the previous gray painting, this one is extremely bright and appears to be out of place. "You know what? For the first time, I realize how lovely the red of blood is."

'No matter how evil you are, Elixier my love, I'll always love you' I'm a black canvas. A paper pure white. And yes, I wanted to have color. I wanted somebody to paint me. Elixier did. But instead of coloring me with paint, he painted me with blood. Well I don't regret letting him do that. Red is a powerful color. Red stands out. Red is fierce. But fire is also red. That if it burns you, you'll turn black. Life is meaningless without him. I'd rather burn myself in the color of red in the flames as long as I'm with him, than be safe as a colorless canvas.

The trees leaned as though trying to flee. ⸻ Day Seven. The final countdown. Ava stood by the ancient ruins, the wind wrapping around her like a cloak. Achi joined her, his body tense but steady. “We started this with fear,” she said, her voice clear, “but we’ll finish it with truth.” Behind them, Marcus and Darius watched in silence. Neither dared speak. The ground itself seemed to breathe with anticipation. The Blood Moon began to rise—larger than ever, swollen and pulsing with power. Its red light painted the world in warning.