Bloody Painter Novels & Stories

"Wait. Whatever you want, I can give it to you. Money, anything. I'm taking both of them with me." Ethan steadied himself and regained his composure as he locked his sharp eyes onto Amber. Anyone else might have been intimidated, but Amber was not one to scare easily. She did not even lift her gaze before waving her hand. Tara panicked as her tears spilled uncontrollably while Ethan's eyes stayed on her, filled with nothing but heartache and tenderness. At that moment, I probably looked like the greatest villain of all. It was as if I was someone who had torn apart the fated love story of two star-crossed lovers.

You can start now, Maureen," Maureen smiled at him. She felt her fingers tremble but did not stop her from continuing painting. Maybe it's just her excitement so she also feels a little nervous. Gregorio sat on the sofa in front of the girl, watching her painting. He is secretly happy because it looks like Maureen is his next victim. "I'm done, Sir," Maureen said happily. She didn't take her eyes off the painting. The painting is so beautiful that anyone who sees it would dream of owning it. She was lucky because she received the artist's painting, and take note, it's free! Gregorio stood up and approached the girl. "It would be even better if you put your name," Gregorio said kindly.

she said coldly, "I'll call the owner." I stood there, on the threshold of the room, my fingers anxiously wringing the shirt fabric. The silence was broken when the middle-aged man stepped out from behind the back door. There was a sharpness in his eyes, as if he could read the hesitation I held, even though his greeting was kept within the bounds of politeness. "Henry Brown," he said, introducing himself, then invited me to take the wooden chair provided. "Sebastian Allen," I replied with a voice I tried to ensure was stable. I sat down, looking straight at him. "I came because of that vacancy. However, I have to be frank—I don't have a formal diploma to show." Henry's gaze didn't waver in

“I mean… second time in two days. Same city, same me. The odds are statistically suspicious.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “It’s a small island.” “New York? Small?” I laughed. “You’re joking.” He didn’t smile, but something in his eyes softened. Just a fraction. I tilted my head toward the paintings. “What do you think of these?” He glanced at the canvases like he was seeing them for the first time. “They’re loud.” “Loud,” I repeated, grinning. “That’s a good word for it. I think they’re screaming.”

Rain turned to look at the man next to her who still maintained a calm expression on his face. Most of the blood that spurted out of Pietro’s hand landed on his face and his suit yet he looked so calm…he had a gun in his hand. He killed the man. Rain wasn’t sure what compelled her to move her body, she got up… she looked at him in horror. He didn’t look like he just took a life, he looked like—a demon—no, Lucifer himself. She took unconscious steps backwards. She couldn’t stay here, she couldn’t stand the sight of blood, she couldn’t stand the sight of…him.

She looked like a very cheerful person with a happy life. She also worried about her mom and her co-workers and then a man named Gabriel Micheal. She wondered if the cops were looking for her. She held his gaze and the hate he felt for her felt hazy because the scent of her blood was all around him. "Who are you?" She managed to get out of her chapped lips. "Your Master" he replied watching the emotions dancing across her face. Her mind was racing with different thoughts. Most of which ended with him being a psychopath who had a fetish for blood drinking. She wondered if she would be dead before they discovered her missing.

Noah promised, then left the penthouse with Tyler behind him. "We are ready boss." the bodyguard informed, bowing as he waited for the next line of instructions from his master. The boss was still standing and observing a gruesome painting that he had worked on himself a few months ago with a smile on his face. The painting which depicted the death of a whole family at the hands of a little boy laid in a thick frame, decorating the dark wall. "Lead the way." Ash Grey ordered and walked behind the bodyguard in a backward motion. When he reached the doorway, he finally tore his gaze away from the painting and started to hum a fast beat with his mouth as he walked.

I touched it again in different places, and it still felt like a regular painting. “Are you kidding me?” Frustratedly, I hit the painting with my fists and scraped my knuckles from the corner. Some of my blood splashed on the painting. I grabbed a cloth to clean it when I noticed it had disappeared. My blood was nowhere to be seen. I looked down at the cut on my hand and back at the painting. “Blood Magic,” I whispered as I touched the painting with my bloody hand. “Come on, grimoire. Come to me.”

She looks— Confused "I don't understand" I can't help the small laugh that leaves my lips "What's there not to understand? He's a psychotic maniac that likes painting with blood. That's fucking it" "I just—" She looks more lost now, because she can't put it together, or she does, but it's not making sense. "He uses animal blood. It's the only way to prevent him from not cutting himself and using his skin as an actual canvas" I cut in "He won't use other colors, just blood"

I faced the portrait before me and began to paint. As I used the colour palette close to me and drew, the next minute I was done, I looked at the beautiful painting before. It was a naked portrait of a woman in tears. Close to her were two men with double spears trying to attack her and her baby.