Bloody Drawings Novels & Stories

As her fingers brushed against them, a cold feeling ran up her arm. The writing inside was the same as the journals. Runes. Symbols she couldn’t read. But this time… it wasn’t just words. There were illustrations. And the moment her eyes landed on them— Her blood turned cold. The drawings were horrifying. Creatures with twisted horns, long claws, and wings that looked torn and unnatural. Their faces were distorted, some almost human… but not quite. Their eyes were drawn with such detail that it felt like they were staring right back at her.

But… the vampire I dreamed about was not real! “Second, the Dervy. They are the kinds of vampires that are evil. They possessed dark magic and it was very dangerous. They are our enemy. They are the second strongest of the entire vampire clan. The color of their eyes is black which I know is scary to look at because it looks like the eyes of a demon. And don't come near one of them because they will kill you," This is what Knox and I fought yesterday they almost killed me. I stood up in shock when I saw it because of its appearance.

I studied the piece of evidence. There's nothing new about it. It's the same as the other bloody dolls found in the crime scene in the past. I sighed in disappointment. Before the clean-up crew put away the corpse I took a few pictures of the body uncovered. The stench of blood overpowers the smell of tobacco in the room. I put on a mask so I don't have to inhale the atrocious smell of blood and tobacco. Like all the other victims, they died eyes open. But this one, thick greenish substance running down from his eyes and mouth. He looked horrid I would say. Veins popping out all over his body in a weird manner. This is the most horrifying sight I'd ever encounter in this case. My stomach tur

A few days pass after the Donnie incident at school. I don’t remember what happened, but I’m amazed that I stood up to him and fought back. The doctor told me everything that I had done. I was forced to write an apology letter to the school, Donnie and his parents. That wasn’t fun in the slightest. I sit at my desk in my room and open up my notebook. For some reason I’ve been drawing strange sketches recently of a strange creature. I don’t know what it is I’ve just drawn them. They’re quite disturbing. Especially that in my mind the creature murders children and takes their souls. It’s a bit dark…

The lab was very quiet for a moment. I moved to the far wall because standing still in a room that smelled the way this one smelled while processing what Kaelen was reading was not something my body wanted to do. The drawings stopped me. Crude, scratched directly into the stone rather than carved with any skill, but specific. Bodies in various states that I was going to file in the category of things I had seen and would deal with the feelings about later. Wolves. Figures with something flowing out of them that the artist had rendered as light, though whether they had intended it to look hopeful or terrible was genuinely unclear.

I demand, unable to understand her hysteria. Silas is right next to her, his eyes red. It’s clear to anyone that he has been crying. As more and more pack mates surround us, Ariel shoves the papers in my hands, “Look at this.” At first, I don't really know what I'm looking at, and then I see. They are crude drawings of what is clearly supposed to be Silas and Ariel. The drawings are childish in appearance but the vicious nature of them cannot be overlooked. One of them is of Ariel with her head cut off and Silas crying on the side.

Xiao Long grabbed the second brush and dipped it into the container containing Grade 5 Demonic Beast Blood. Then he began to draw the inner formation. The movements and images became more complicated than the images in the outer formation. Curved, round, horizontal, vertical, zigzag and other shapes were drawn by the Demonic Beast Blood, guided by the brush Xiao Long held. Crack!!!

Her belly button was tucked inside the muscle and that's where the drawing stopped. May scrunched her nose. This drawing reminds her of someone. Someone she doesn't want to be reminded of, Bella. Her eyes shifted to the next drawing which she found to be the worst. A woman and man having sex. No, it looked like she was being raped cause her hands were tied. May's stomach churned. She felt uncomfortable. Why does he have such obscenities drawn in his room? The third and fourth drawings she loved, however. She thought the artist had done a wonderful job drawing a rose that looked like it was dying with its leaves dropping to the floor.

Every free moment, he scribbled into his notebook, as if trying to remember something his brain refused to let go of. The drawings got worse. At first, they were crude—crayon lines of a tall house with crooked towers. But soon, each page was darker, more detailed. The boy no longer used colors, only black and red. Blood dripped from every window. A woman stood in the attic, her mouth open in a scream. Her eyes were hollow. The teacher called his name again. "Matthew? What are you drawing?" He didn’t look up. His hand moved quickly across the paper, sketching what looked like a spiral staircase leading into a pit. The teacher reached out and gently touched his shoulder.

It’s a slaughterhouse, to put it mildly. I have to fight myself to focus as I stroll through the rooms. Caked blood stains the floors and walls, and I smother that part of me who hates myself for letting this be. The idea of making a living from trading the blood of your kind to monsters is abhorrent. But some would do anything to make quick cash, regardless of the amount of blood drenching their hands.