Novel & Cerita Bloody Painter X The Puppeteer

Jon mumbled. "And that undisclosed buyer is me," said Dante smiling widely, his sharp teeth glistening in the dim room. "Let's see if you can guess who painted the next one." Dante walked eagerly to the next painting, his cane tapping on the wooden floor like a one-legged giant insect. He likewise turned on the pin lights and the painting exploded in colors of bright red and burnt sienna. "This painting is something I really like. Tell me what you think?" The second painting showed a half-naked man with eyes opened wide as if in a crazed state. In his hand was something that looked like a severed human arm while blood was seen dripping from his mouth. He appeared to be in a desert and faint

Cheeks wet from the tears a soft sob escaping from her lips only to be unheard even by the guy who is in the same room or a basement she assumed as there was no window around. One after the other the drop of blood dripped on the bucket as the boy with the grey eyes kept on painting over the canvas. The canvas is painted with deep red as the same replica of the women tied on the chair. The only colour that was upon it was red of different shades with its background in black colour. “Naa~naa~na~na~na~Naaa~Naaa~Na~” the smile turns into a smirk as he takes a deep breathtaking scent of blood. Making him cover his mouth with the back of his hand still holding the brush.

"But that is a problem. You see, when two sadists meet, there is an unavoidable fate..." Xavier stood over her, his face having lost the mask of humanity. He grinned at her with his teeth looking like the cartridge of a nail gun. He had his hand over his face like a mask, with his tongue now several times its original length and wrapped around his wrist, and razor claws at the tips of his fingers, one of which he dragged across the surface of his eye and tore open. "When two sadists meet, one inevitably devours the other, and you are way out of your league."

Asher breathes, his voice tight with fear. The being's gaze sweeps over us, a sneer twisting its features. "How touching," it says, its voice a discordant chorus of a thousand tortured souls. "The hybrid sisters and their pet Guardian, thinking they can stand against the inevitable." With a lazy flick of its wrist, the Puppet Master sends a wave of dark energy hurtling towards us. I brace for impact, but it never comes. Instead, I hear a pained grunt and open my eyes to see Xander standing before me, having taken the full brunt of the attack.

I can't have my hands holding unto his own before finding out what happened. " I'm sorry, what is wrong?". He was a bit hurt about my refusal. " Nothing! But I feel like you're lying to me". I said and then told him what I saw. The blood and how much it made no sense to me that the first thing I'd see would be blood _ was it human blood or is it something else?.. "What do you want to know?". After deliberating about the whole thing for almost an hour, he was finally willing to open his mouth and tell me the truth..

One wrong whisper, one wrong rumor, and everything Sophie and Xavier were trying to build could shatter. I pushed it down. Focus. Protect them. Protect our children. Protect the future we’re fighting for. The first artist lived above a pottery guild. She answered the door with ink on her fingers and irritation in her eyes. “You think I’m sneaking around with protest paint?” she scoffed. “Half my work is murals. The red you saw on the walls? Wrong mix. That was cheap stuff. Mine’s imported. Cost me triple.” She shoved a crate of pigments at me, receipts clipped neatly to the side.

His hands both pinned at his back. "Stephen". He was scared but Stephen signalled to him that it was okay. "What a show Zol"? He shook his head in disapproval. "Hybrid huh"? Zol smelled his scent glands. "A cute little pup eh"? "He isn’t a pup Zol". Stephen disapproved. "So boy. Ready to change huh"? He grazed the side of Callum 's neck tracing his nail on the vein pulsing blood. "Please don’t hurt me". He was whimpering trying to get free.

I have always heard rumors of Daphne and her crew placing bets and wagers on people but never in my wildest dreams did it occur to me that I would be a puppet in one of their games. "You monsters! You're monsters!" I let out a sound of pure, unadulterated agony. I tried to launch myself at her, to claw that smug, knowing smile off her face, but my body betrayed me at the last minute. My legs buckled and I hit the floor hard, air ripping from my lungs as I choked, coughing until warm blood sprayed across the pristine white carpet beneath me. "Don't get it on the rug, darling," Xavier said, finally standing up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, shimmering vial and a syringe. "

We went by a couple of rooms, then the living room, the fireplace, treasure room and yes, he even showed me just how many bathrooms can fit an entire house packed with werewolves can possibly have, which was thoughtful enough for him. And then we found ourselves standing in a large room surrounded by an abundance of paintings. For a moment I was astonished at how these art pieces were crafted exquisitely and with finesse. I couldn't quite take my eyes off one of the paintings of a partially naked woman, and a nightshade black wolf both covered with blood lying lifeless on the ground. Everything about it somehow brought out the sorrow in me, allowing me to symphatize with whoever the painter

“I told you, didn’t I? I will put an end to that problem of yours. I’m not toying you, Katherine. Let’s say, I want to play a game with you.” “What’s the difference, huh? You want to play with me, it’s all the same!” “Toying you is different from playing with you. Toying you means I’m just the one who’s receiving all the benefits, meanwhile, if I say playing with you, you can cooperate and have your fair share of benefits in our game.” “Well then, Mr. Supernatural, I don’t want to play a game with you.” “It’s Helion. My name is Helion.” “I don’t care about your name at all.”