Bloody Drawings Novels & Stories

They stood by the door, probably hoping Sibil would trip over something. The house—or rather, the shack—was a disaster. It was dirty, like it hadn’t seen a broom or a mop in centuries. Dust and cobwebs decorated every corner. And worst of all, the walls were covered in naked drawings of female wolves. Some were funnh, while others were borderline creepy. There were wolves posing, wolves lounging, wolves batting their eyelashes. I felt my stomach turn. “Oh my gods,” I gagged, stepping back from the mess. “What is wrong with you? This is how you live? And these drawings, what is this? Some kind of weird wolf shrine?”

I said quietly, “the reason why I wanted you alive.” He looked at me warily. I handed him the drawings. They were uneven, crayon-colored, simple shapes of Blue’s artwork. He frowned slightly as he took them. “What is this?” “A child’s work.” He glanced down at the first page. A house colored entirely in mismatched shades. Windows labeled incorrectly. “What does this have to do with anything?” he asked, his eyes flicking up to mine. “Keep looking.” I said. He flipped to the next drawing. He stared longer this time and something in his expression shifted. His fingers traced one of the crayon strokes lightly.

Gosh, how could they memorize every corner of this so spacious place? My throat dried up so badly, and I looked like a bulldog finding a liquid to drink. All of my cells woke up when there was the realization that the only liquid available there was blood. How could I drink blood? Was that human blood? Pork blood? Ew, that was so disgusting! But I don't have any choice. My eyes were half closed while my hands were carefully picking up a glass of blood. I can drink this, right? I'm a vampire after all–

The ruler at that time was Draco Vahemir - the strongest Vahemir there is to exist. Each and every member of the Infernal bloodbath pack is born with a special ability, their teeth contains poison strong enough to kill a person within seconds. They are not like every regular werewolf out there. They are stronger, faster than the usual werewolf. I flip through the pages and stop at a prophesy. It is a drawing. A stake in a lady's chest, she is in the arms of a man, his head buried on her chest. I flip to the next page, there is another drawing. The woman is in his arms, his head is backwards, his mouth is widened- he should be screaming. There is no caption in either of the picture. The drawi

"It's settled, then. You will have our protection and a place to stay during your time in Black Creek." As their meeting finally came to an end, I couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the walls adorned with drawings and paintings. The images depicted wolves in various forms, some in fierce battle stances, and others in moments of tranquility. But what struck me the most were the drawings that seemed eerily familiar. I walked closer to one of them, my heart quickening as I realized that the wolf in the drawing was striking a fighting stance that mirrored one I had often used. It was as if the artist had captured my movements with uncanny precision.

He flipped again. A full two-page spread: A woman blindfolded and ball-gagged, hogtied across a mattress. Her legs were spread by a bar. Her toes curled in tension. Her holes sketched in tight detail -- stuffed, obscenely, with what was clearly meant to be two separate toys. The kind of drawing someone does only when they've lived it. Or needed to. His cock twitched. He didn't stop flipping. Page after page -- each more shocking, intimate, and raw than the last.

It is not looking scary in the picture but cute. " This was how it was meant to turn out", Emily whispers. She pauses as tears pools in her eyes. " Not the monster it becomes." A strong hand briefly press on her small waist which feels comfortable and calming. Lucas sighs, he captures the drawings with his phone. Zooming it when he notice something, he looks between the paper and the photo. Something is wrong, staring deeply at the drawings, Lucas notice dry blood stain on the paper. " Whose blood is this?", Lucas voices. He glances at Emily as he waits for her to answer him.

As I bent down to pick it up, I realised it had fallen open to a specific page. The illustration staring back at me held me in place like a beast with its claws in my chest. It was a drawing of a monster with long, dried-up black hair, claw-like nails, and prominent fangs. Below the drawing was a single red drop of blood, as if it were dripping from the fangs. I narrowed my eyes, trying to decipher the ancient, jagged writing that surrounded the drawing:

Imelda nodded without questions and took her out, Riley following close behind her. The urge to draw something suddenly took hold of me amidst my blood thirst fury. Going to the board, I brought out my brush and suddenly began to draw using the blood from Trent's ripped arm since there's no paint lying around. I took my time, slowly drawing every single person in the class while they stood still. "Haven't you guys always wondered what my special ability is?" I smiled darkly, facing them. "Why don't I show you all?” Walking up to Trent, I grabbed him by the hair dragging him to the front of the class while he thrashed around, trying to break free.

Or maybe he is struggling with the loss of someone close to him, or maybe he has terrible nightmares each night and is looking for an outlet…I’m truly reaching at this point. Perhaps some of these explanations would make perfect sense, if it weren’t for the uneasy feeling in my stomach. The drawings are just so...unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Is Noah really like this? I can’t imagine he would be, from the times I’ve met him, but how could I gauge from those small moments what he is truly like? He’s drawn demon like creatures emerging from a smudge of darkness. Each have eyes void of all feeling, of all mortal like tendencies. Dark hooked claws reach out, almost completely off the page, lik