Frankenstein Graphic Novels & Stories

She looked sick without a hint, looking like a zombie in a shabby suit. The door of the pet shop suddenly opened, and the bell rang and it was silent again as if it had closed. A faint yellow light shone on the rusty iron frames of the iron cages. Inside, there are countless lives like Rosabella, all of them with chains on their necks, which is to distinguish and recognize that they are human beings, born simply as pets of ghosts and vampires.

As we were walking back to our room, Red suddenly ran into a girl who was wearing reading glasses. "I'm sorry," he apologized as we helped her collect her books. "It's all right," the woman said. She looked like someone who enjoyed studying, was petite, had two braids on each side of her shoulders, and wore thick reading glasses. Looking at her ID lace, I could tell she was a vampire. "We'll assist you in carrying these books." I smiled at her and reached for her books, but Red suddenly stopped me and asked the girl. "Are you one of our classmates?" Red asked with a sneer. I know Red is annoyed with our classmates, and the girl also feels Red's annoyance with her.

Damien reported to Alden as they went back into the house "Ignore it" Alden replied "I have somewhere to be" Alden then disappeared into the darkness of the night Damien went to his room. There was no light illuminating it. You couldn't tell where anything was. But that wasn't the case for Damien, a vampire, he had great sight, even in the dark. He undid the buttons of his shirt and removed it. A huge eagle tattoo was on his back. It looked so realistic, especially its red dragon eyes. He moved the middle vase on one of his tables and the huge painting behind him moved and opened, exposing the stairs to his hidden underground room

Jack growls in return as he extends a hand, but he doesn't get any closer. The leather collar with a silver ring he is holding is all he offers. My heart bursts into something wild, and the tears I was crying became wrath. I want to shout at the brutality and indignity of this. As Jack removes the collar from my father's fingers, my chin stops shaking and my lips form a narrow line. He turns to face me, his emerald eyes glistening with jealous need. Jack looks down at where he bit me, where blood still drips down my collarbone and stains my dress, and his tongue runs across his lips. With his free hand, he violently pulls me in about the waist before quickly wrapping the collar around my nec

Sylvie, who remained calm throughout the ordeal, asked, "That's it? Don't you know that you can find all sorts of things around tombs? Forget rats—I've seen mountains of corpses. It's really not that scary." Frank chuckled, nodding. "I know." Sylvie nodded. "Sure. Then why would you call it fun?" Frank pointed into the darkness. "Because what's what I meant!" As if on cue, a monster emerged. It did not have a head, but it appeared to be sewn up parts of human limbs. There was a slit where its stomach should be, filled with beastly sharp teeth that were dripping with flesh. Maggots called on the puddles, and it was such a terrible sight that Sylvie almost threw up on the spot.

They're not clear-cut and direct in their message, but more of a puzzle you have to solve for it to have any real meaning or ability to prevent. Flashes of Eve half turned with red eyes, and yet her fangs were vampire, elongated and dripping with darkest red, almost black blood. Trickling down her chin and soiling her already blood-soaked clothes. Her skin was pale, freakishly milk-pale, like that of old paintings and sketches of the feral vampires that no longer exist. Her hair flying wild and whipping around her face as though she was high in the air and caught in the center of a cyclone of her making.

“Oh my god… do not stop. Do not fucking stoppppp!” The overwhelming pleasure was forcing her to try and clench her legs together, to give her a chance to consume the overwhelming feeling. But the creature was having none of it. It was an animal who just knew how to take its own pleasure from its prey. It was the God of werewolves who knew nothing of mercy when it came to satisfying its sexual hunger. The creature's both cocks were pounding her mercilessly. Making her go crazy in a pleasure that she had never known. Suddenly the creature's tentacle slithered up and after wrapping once around her neck, started fucking her mouth.

Apart from being werewolves. I had to ask Ashlia. She would know. I needed to divert my thoughts and attention, so I roamed his room. The glass liquor cabinet covered the entire wall. How much liquor did this man consume? The furniture was minimal, bland and uninteresting. The bed was covered with a black satin sheet. My gaze wandered to his side table. A book lay there. My interest piqued. ‘Frankenstein’ by Mary Shelley. The bookmark inside revealed he had been reading it.

Through the blue light, the ink seemed to rise off the page, change shape, and then became clear text. Ancient Latin. Age-old, but readable. "I can see it," I breathed, my heart beating against my ribs. "It's... it's a blueprint." "Translate," Marcus Blackthorn ordered, leaning forward, his glass of scotch forgotten in his hand. I scanned the page. The illustrations were horrific.....sketches of human bodies being stretched, hollowed out, and filled with black ink.

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken questions. As the good doctor worked, I slipped my phone out of my pocket. It was a risk, but I couldn't resist the chance to look through the files that Finn was going through in his study. I managed to snapped some pictures of the pages before I left the study. The screen lit up, casting a faint glow in the dim room. I scrolled through the documents, my heart pounding in my chest. The files were filled with diagrams and notes, some labeled "Enhancement Project." My stomach churned as I read about experiments on werewolves - tests that created and ruined Finn.