Bloody Crayons Novels & Stories

Please let my sister go she cried Don't you dare say that again cause he can't do me anything Crystal said to Karen No stop it Crystal let's beg him to free us, I can't allow anything happen to you Karen cried Crystal, what a beautiful name that fits the owner Lamia exclaimed Little girl stop crying, I won't hurt your sister I promise Lamia told Karen and she believed him and stand to her feet and smiled at Lamia Lamia loosen his hold on Crystal and she dragged her hand and gave Lamia a bad look You should not try that next time cause it's dangerous beauty, you smell human but always lie about being a vampire I smell human? Crystal asked and fear gripped her

Shades of red, brown and black diademed the canvas, yet not getting mixed together, as if they harboured misogyny. The form became more vivid as the lifeless colours brought life in the painting. And then, like a gentle stroke of a fine paintbrush on the canvas, an obnoxiously metallic smell of blood wafted in my nostrils. Blood! The colours swirled and turned into something more vivid. I could see the form clearly now. I scrunched up my nose as the smell of fresh blood became more intense, almost unbearable. I walked to the figure through the blur and hollow, my instinct telling me to stop.

Oh, you never fail to amaze me, Crimson. ⚘ little ⊹ lies ··································································································································

SHE said that she wanted more, so the young man gave her that. But at that moment, his gentle tongue that tenderly caresses her femininity is gone. Instead, Jason's tongue became like a burning coil. Just a glowing coil of a paintbrush that smears insane but earnest happiness into her femininity. And that gave her reason to let out a series of growls and suppressed screams.

"I know darling I'm sorry she's not here anymore, but you are allowed to have another mummy if you want." Katie finished with the blue crayon sliding it back into the packet. "Auntie Andrea said she wouldn't come back," she perused the crayons and picked a yellow one for the next claw. Gabriel watched as she stuck her tongue between her lips as she concentrated on not going over the outline. "I don't want her to come back."

They chose to sit on the back porch and enjoy the morning that was turning into noon. "Can you draw?" Shareeza asked as she opened a crayon box with too many colors. Alethea was surprised and impressed when she saw it. During school, she had only been able to use a 12-color pencil set, and those were short. Even when she went to a bookstore, the largest set she'd seen was 48 colors. But Shareeza's? Rich people really were different, Alethea thought to herself in awe.

"How? Do you mean Zach Howe? That useless trust fund brat? Has Ethan completely lost his mind? Has Tara eaten away at his brain? Associating with someone like him? Haha! Well, it won't be long before Ethan's name disappears from society entirely." Zach was not just a spoiled rich kid. He was dangerous and had blood on his hands. Ethan playing in his territory would leave nothing but scraps of bone behind. "Aren't you even a little curious why he's doing this?" "I'm not curious. His business isn't mine. Alright, I've got things to do. Hanging up now."

“We will get just two packs today, okay? We’ll get the rest another time.” “We’ll come shopping again?” That was the only thing she focused on, thankfully. “Of course, baby. Anytime you want.” “Yay!” She yelled out excitedly and picked out four different brands of crayons. I shook my head softly and pried out two packs from her hand, keeping them back on the shelf. She pouted, but before she could complain, Kimberly reached us. She looked at the crayons in Amelia’s hand and narrowed her eyes on me. “You’re spoiling her.”

“For your daughter.” I took it, peeking inside. It contained two things: a small, perfect container of ripe, red strawberries, and a box of the highest-quality, most expensive colored pencils I had ever seen. “The strawberries,” he said, his voice clinical, “have a documented high concentration of antioxidants and natural sugars, conducive to post-stress nutritional replenishment for a child. The pencils are artist-grade. Their pigment density and lightfastness are superior. They represent a logical progression from watercolor.”

"You mean, like a pastel blue or a piercing shade of bright neon blue?" "I don't know exactly," I said, trying to find the right word. "When I was a kid, there was this specific crayon in my big box of Crayolas that was called Periwinkle. It was kind of like that. It was the rarest eye color I've ever seen. It was the lightest blue ever, as blue as the clear sky. I don't know who he is, Katherine, but I’ve got to find out." Katherine smiled and gave me a playful nudge. "So you're calling 'dibs' on the hottest guy in town already? Wow, you move fast! I sure hope he has a brother who looks just like him."