Bloody Crayons Novels & Stories

some are outside playing while others are having lunch. Ivy was seated on the stairs as she stared down at other kids. no one inviting or asking her to come play. she carefully opened her box of crayons but someone takes it from her Almost immediate. "Give it back" she whines like she's almost about to cry. 'Or what? are you gonna cry?" "just give it back to me" she yells trying to take it from them but they take turn in annoying her further. "Please don't be mean to me. I need my crayons"

SOMEONE HAD DOUSED our entire front yard in crimson red while we were eating breakfast. Everything from the bushes to my parent’s windows was splattered with the foul paint with the words ‘Happy Birthday, Murderer’ written in harsh red strokes across the front door, like something right out of a horror flick.

Another student added, "But who would want to frame her then?" Just then, the classroom door creaked open. Mr. Clark, the art teacher, poked his head in. "Sorry for the interruption," he greeted Mr. Haggerty, who had been silent this whole time. "I came to ask if anyone has seen my rare calligraphy marker. I can't seem to find it anywhere." Damien turned to face the teacher. "What did this marker look like exactly, sir?" Mr. Clark furrowed his brow as he described it. "Well, it has an extra-fine tip for precise strokes and is a deep crimson red color."

I feel dirty after not having had a bath in a few days because my hairs were becoming rough. " Want to Bath " He said " Perhaps I'd bath later because we are going now " He brings the paint bowl over to me. "Let me paint you," he murmurs, holding out the bowl. I look at the liquid inside of the bowl and cringe. It's red and thick looking. "Is it berry juice?" I ask. Cesar snorts. "Deer's blood." I hold back the vomit threatening to come up the back of My throat. "I'm not putting Deer's blood on me," I say Definitely.

Ella says taking the blue crayon and making everyone laugh. "Miss Bee! You have a white crayon," Raphael says making us all laugh. "Daddy, white cwayons don't draw," Wissa corrects him. "But it's a snow theme, it should be white," Raphael says with a shrug. "I'll get you a white one," Miss Bee says playing along with him, getting him a white crayon and handing it to him.

"Dignity, girl don't play with me. I know the guy you're talking about. It's that hunk who's always coming to the cafe these days. Fuck dignity, friend, if I could get him, I'll do him anytime any day" "He's a vampire" "Wow, kinky" Gracie purred and drank her shot. "This never gets old". "I think I am done. This is disgusting" she said setting her glass down, feeling out of it when a burning tingling sensation broke out over her arm and traveled all over her skin causing her to moan out before she could stop herself.

Seraphina & Declan ✦ 18+ — explicit language, graphic violence, torture ✦ The basement smells like concrete and old water and the particular kind of fear that has been marinating for several hours. I know that smell. I've been in rooms like this before — not many, and not as the one asking questions, but enough to understand the architecture of them. The single hanging bulb. The drain in the floor that doesn't try to hide what it's for. The chair bolted to the concrete, which is a practical detail that tells you something about whoever built this room and how seriously they took their work. Declan built this room. Of course he did. The man in the chair is named Caruso. Nico Caruso, forty-thr

I felt the purple fire in my blood rush into the pen. "You can't use that!" the boy hissed. "Only the Author can use the Master Pen!" "I am the Author of my own pain!" I yelled. I stabbed the pen into the white paper floor. I didn't write a word. I just poured all my hate, all my love, and all my revenge into the ink. I imagined a world where there were no wires. I imagined a world where shadows had no teeth. A giant crack appeared in the paper. It wasn't black ink that came out it was a blinding, sapphire light. The light hit the gold wires holding Bryan, melting them instantly. He fell forward, the black tape on his mouth dissolving into smoke.

Suddenly she says, frighteningly, "Your hand is bleeding." When I look down at my right hand on the wheel, I see blood oozing from the white bondage. "Come inside and let me help you with it," urges Sophia. It's bleeding too much, so I follow her. As I entered her house, she made me sit on the sofa in the living room while she ran upstairs. Shortly after, she returns with a first-aid kit. "Let me help you," she says as I'm reaching out to take the first aid kit from her.

Miranda POV Its true, I do feel comfortable writing to Joel; more so than I have ever felt with anyone else in person or via mail or rather email since I haven't actually written a hand letter since I was in second grade and Mrs. Sendrick wanted us to learn about the history of the United States Postal Service. I should be thankful to her now that I have the skills to properly write and letter and address an envelope, but I can't forget how she mocked me, calling me “poor baby Miranda who lost her new crayons.” Those crayons were the one thing I wanted for Christmas back then and she laughed when they went missing. I’m pretty sure mean Bobby White stole them as he had the whole sixty-four c