Bloody Drawings Novels & Stories

It’s sharp and cold, the kind of look that causes a shiver to run down my spine. With her other hand, she dips her fingers into the blood pooling around me—my blood—and starts drawing on the floor. At first, I think it’s random, just messy streaks, but the longer I watch, the clearer it becomes that it’s anything but random. The lines twist and curve, forming jagged, alien symbols that I don’t recognize.

They were all pretty convincing. A big spiral-bound notebook made of drawing paper lay on the chair. I flipped through a few pages. Some had charcoal drawings made with angry looking strokes. Dark and rough, but still recognizable as fields and hills you’d find around here. Other pages had diagrams in pen with clusters of spidery notes. Prop guillotines and coffins with spring-loaded lids. But most of the pages had monsters. Some drawn, some cut from movie magazines and pasted in. Some were more Polaroids of James in makeup; others were ordinary pictures of people from advertisements or news stories. On those he’d painted open-throat wounds or gouged out eyes with pen.

Not even a single try. “What does it say?” I asked, brows furrowing as I rubbed both of my palms to create warmth. The cold had been much cruel today ever since we arrived at the healer’s cabin. I encouraged myself to look at the drawings instead; the art style is pretty much gothic, if not ancient. It wasn’t inked. Hues of black and white were embedded on the golden brown pages of the material. I saw the graphics of a human and a werewolf. They were doing something strange… some sort of a ritual. Elliot did not flip the pages further so I ended up guessing that that was it.

He is being frames but only God knows why. Joel is not only an animal but a bloody monster who should be dealt with in the most severe way. The trial was progressing and the odds were not in Freddie's favour. Something drastic has to be done or else Freddie was not only going to lose the case but his life as well because I had a strong feeling that Joel will not stop until Freddie is wiped out completely.

He saw that the cover had ‘Caiden Silver’ written on it. Raising a brow, he flipped it open and his heart dropped. The word ‘Die’ was written in different fonts with blobs of red paint splattered across the page. Corbin flipped the page over, and his eyes widened, on the second page was a drawing of an arm which was slit open and written on the arm was ‘Caiden Silver.’ The third picture had a pack of sixteen wolves drawn on it, eating a person and on that person's body was written ‘Me’ as if the ‘me’s’ were colouring it. Each wolf had a name written on them representing all his siblings and parents in the drawing.

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.

A white rose lay on the floor dripping with blood. A small, shiny blade lay beside it. A beautiful object in such a terrible and painful condition. The blood stain on it did not hide it's immaculate and beautiful nature. She puffed smoke in the air and took a sip of the liquor beside her, as she glared at the bleeding rose with sad and anguish filled eyes, it told a lot about her and her agony. She was as beautiful as the rose in front of her.

Blood. Dread settled over me like a heavy shroud. The once serene garden now bore the threatening mark of violence. I knelt down, scrutinizing the crimson stain on the ground. Fear coiled in my stomach, and the silence of the garden seemed to echo with the ominous weight of the unknown. Zoey's disappearance had already been a challenging situation, but the presence of blood escalated the situation to a new level of urgency. Every worst-case scenario raced through my mind. I couldn't lose her. Not after all she had been through.

"Sebastian, hey... why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?" Instead of subsiding, my sobbing grew even heavier. I shook my head in despair, my throat choked. Without warning, Reid pulled me tightly into his hug. "Cry as much as you want. I'm not going anywhere," he whispered softly, almost like a breeze of wind. I rested my head, and my hand slowly hugged his body. In the warmth of that embrace, the wall of defense I built collapsed instantly, melting away all the overwhelming fatigue. I sobbed loudly on his shoulder, releasing all the burden pressing on my chest.

( I inquired In a scared tone and met nothing but silence) My hands were pinned to the wall and I could feel the eyes of a stranger staring at me. "Can you please speak up?" I copied back my words. The stranger tugged my hair behind my ears and left still not being able to alter a single word. "Weird" I felt and left In a hurry only to fall my eyes to a bloodstain message on the wall, which reads, "life is full of ups and downs and at the end, we all have to pay for the crimes we committed, I am coming for you brother, get ready".