Novel & Cerita Bloody Painter Creepypasta

I just can't, call me selfish but she was mine. Stalking towards her, I smirked and held out my bloody hand in front of my face. Swiping my thumb across the dark red liquid on my skin, I grabbed the back of her neck pulling her in front of my face making her gasp, her eyes widened with shock and fear. Rubbing my nose on hers, I painted my blood on her hairline causing gasps to whisper in the room. "Now...you are mine" I breathed out sinisterly.

I said to Nick "Oh, you think?" He said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes at him which I know he couldn't see because of the pitch dark setting. Turned around and walk towards where we came from. Once we reached the room where the dead body was, I decided to look around for a bit. Bits of dried blood were still on the floor and a big stain was where the bloody puddle was. As I shone my flashlight across the room something catches my eye from the very far end of the room on the wall. I walked closer. As I walked closer and closer, I have a better looked at it. It was something written. As I walk closer and It hit me. The stench of blood filled the area. It was written in a different language th

neo Apr 2015 werewolf thoughts at midnight there are bones between my teeth moonlight glimmering in my eyes dried blood in my nails, in my hair my head pounding (thump. thump. thump.) you know they say blood is thicker than water but that just means blood is more likely to stick in my throat coughing up family ties one by one glistening red memories, leaving only a metallic aftertaste sick nightmare fantasy of ripping open bodies im the monster in your fairytale stories lets do a bit of editing, perhaps? lets shred the whole **** book, perhaps?

He sputters, and I don’t waste time in sinking my teeth into his jugular, and I rip it apart. His claws painfully dig into the bones of my lower limbs but it slowly falls away as the light is snuffed out of his eyes. He transforms into a young male, skinny and pale with an oozing wound on his neck. He’s dead. I should feel bad because he’s only young. But I don’t. I try to form words to my pack through the mind link but I can’t. My body hurts, and tiredness seeps into my pores. I see a clearing in the distance and a pack house. I know I shouldn’t go. I know it’s likely a rogue pack, but it seems too lovely for one.

The sticky liquid seeped out from the crusty cracks of Scarlett's disfigured face. I feel pity on Noah, he left me for this dead bitch. As expected from someone who's a vampire. Scarlett's body, including face , had cracks appearing on it. Through the cracks, disgusting thick red black seeped down soaking Scarlett's loosely hung clothes. " Ahh, so dirty!" I smacked her head back, kicking her back into the Oubliette. My hands started shaking in disgust because of that nasty blood sticking on my palms. " You sure are pure and Holy. Let me wipe it for you , baby ."

mind gibbered. 'It can't be real, it can't be—' But it was real. And it was looking at her like she was dinner. The creature's lipless mouth stretched into a grotesque parody of a smile. "Going somewhere, little human?" it hissed, its voice like nails on a chalkboard. The sound made her skin crawl. Cathy's heart seized. Behind her, she could hear the angry shouts of the women growing closer. Before her, the pale monstrosity loomed, its red eyes gleaming with hunger. Trapped. She was completely trapped. She was trapped, with nowhere left to run. This was it. This was how she died. Cathy's heart raced as she stood frozen, caught between the approaching mob and the nightmarish creature blockin

Backup. I stumbled sideways as they walked past me, their boots thudding against the floor without hesitation, without even glancing at the puddles of blood. One of them crouched near Paula without flinching when she screamed. Another grabbed Chloe’s hand and inspected it like he’d seen this a thousand times. My stomach lurched as the metallic smell got more present in the room. I swear I even heard the wet sound of blood. The steady stream dripped onto the carpet. My throat tightened. Then the nausea hit me too fast to fight. I gagged, slapped a hand over my mouth and immediately bolted to the trash can in the corner. My entire breakfast came up in violent heaves.

For vampire hybrids, places with too many biological organisms and overwhelming scents could destabilize them, triggering their vampire bloodline prematurely and actually damaging their bodies. I shook my head every time. Impossible. I never took him to the beach. Even when we went out, I kept him bundled up and away from crowds. But in the painting, he'd been there. And he looked so happy. Once, he'd had a fever that wouldn't break all night. I held him in the emergency room hallway, my clothes soaked through with sweat. In his delirium, he kept crying out the same words over and over. "I don't want to go home."

It smelt of paint and old blood. Also, I felt this heaviness, this ache in my chest, which I knew was from the atmosphere that filled the room. There was a painting on the wall, and I approached it to see what it was. It was a painting of a faceless girl reaching out to touch a grotesque monster. The candlelight flickered, and I froze. My hands shook. I stepped away from the painting, one step back after the other, breathing heavily. Canvases leaned against the walls. Animals, strange creatures, faceless figures.

"There were others much younger than her who thrived, even in the Council. We are done talking!" Another man steps forward with a glass, punctures the toothless prisoner's flesh, and fills his glass with blood. My chest heaves and I freeze. My knees buckle as violent tremors shoot through my body. Cold sweat drips down my back. In my ears beats the rhythm of my heart. I swoon at the sight of so much blood. But the man with blue eyes and a warm voice holds me steady when I sway. What in heaven is happening here?