Goosebumps Werewolf Drawing Novels & Stories

She could barely process what was happening, her mind struggling to catch up with the danger unfolding before her. Liam didn’t waste a single second. He was on his feet in an instant, his muscles rippling with power as he squared off against the monstrous creature. His eyes burned with an intensity that made Cruella shiver with fear, his stance unwavering despite the obvious threat standing before them. The beast was massive, easily twice the size of a normal werewolf, with eyes that glowed an eerie crimson red. His fur was dark as midnight, thick and wild, and his sharp teeth gleamed in the moonlight.

The tattoos sticking out of his neckline extended to his face as his eyes completely turned black. The werewolf slowly got up with a cut on it's face, blood dripping down as it lowered it's head in a painful whine. The man gave a low and long growl and the werewolf quickly dashed into the woods. Hilda couldn't take her eyes off the man with the white hair and weird face painting. “I know who you are!”

I smiled before grabbing the canvas and facing it front for them to see it all. After seeing my art, all of them gasped and my heart was fluttering seeing their eyes sparkling with amazement. “Oh my goodness! This is exactly what we have in mind!” Larry said with tears on the side of his eyes. On the canvas, the moon took center stage, luminous and grand, casting its silvery glow over the scene. Below, in the shadowy depths of the woods, I drew, werewolves prowled, their fur streaked with crimson red highlights that glinted in the moonlight.

I turned to the next page, which creased and wrinkled at my touch. Focus your mind on a single point, like gathering storm clouds in a turbulent sky. That was all on that page, and beneath the guide was the diagram of a human, which must possibly be a werewolf. The human eyes were shut, his right hand was raised slightly around the level of his abdomen, and his palm was widely open, as if trying to call something to his opened palm. That must be a pictorial guide to what was written at the top. I became more interested in what I was reading. This made me flip to the next page.

Nueva couldn't understand the language; it looked complicated and old, but the hand-drawn pictures drew her in. The pictures were of werewolves. The first couple of pages had drawings of two large wolf's, one black and one red. She could make out the names Saul and Thiago's amongst the foreign written words. After a few pages, the black wolf lay bloodied on the ground next to a smaller grey wolf. A small pup was sitting next to the lifeless bodies— Painted in the background was a red wolf in blurry faint lines. It was almost like the red wolf was disappearing into a dense fog. Even if she didn't understand the words, the pictures told the sad story, and Nueva sniffled as she looked at the sm

It's an image of a werewolf, it's body parts fully labelled. I shook my head as the thought of my father actually studying werewolves occured to me. I put the paper down but my eyes caught another one. It's another sheet of paper and this time there's a more interesting image on it. An image of a big werewolf, it's body full of deep brown hairs. It has it's face pointed up, howling, it's eyes flowing a bright blue. For a long while, I stood there, lost in it's eyes, watching and feeling myself drawing into them.

Not even a single try. “What does it say?” I asked, brows furrowing as I rubbed both of my palms to create warmth. The cold had been much cruel today ever since we arrived at the healer’s cabin. I encouraged myself to look at the drawings instead; the art style is pretty much gothic, if not ancient. It wasn’t inked. Hues of black and white were embedded on the golden brown pages of the material. I saw the graphics of a human and a werewolf. They were doing something strange… some sort of a ritual. Elliot did not flip the pages further so I ended up guessing that that was it.

I promise, knowing how little the promise is worth. She moves the boy behind her. Only then do I see the crude drawings scrawled in the dust near where he sat. Stick figures, drawn with a child's impatience—three of them, all large, triangular heads, each with exaggerated, fanged mouths. Their bodies are wolfish, or what a boy imagines a wolf must be: hunched, heavy at the shoulder, legs that end in claws. One figure holds a stick, or maybe a sword. The last is bigger than the others, looming above a crowd of smaller shapes—people, presumably, but every one drawn with a red X where the heart should be. The mother follows my gaze. "He says the wolves walk upright, like men. They come at night

But I used to like to draw, at least before my stepmother had died, and I had a little more freedom. It was dark, and I couldn’t see well, but I decided to give it a try. First, I drew the general shape of the medication and a question mark. Then I drew the salve the best I could and added a question mark to that as well, hoping he would know what I meant. He looked at my drawings in the dark. I knew he could see better than I could with his werewolf eyes. They had stronger senses than humans. I watched his face frown as he looked at my drawings before he abruptly got up and walked to the bathroom. I froze, was I supposed to follow him? I apparently didn’t because he came back out seconds la

said Katleho with a relieved sigh in her voice. “She’s been here for five minutes.” said Mika speaking in my defense. “Mika said you found something?” I replied. Katleho handed me the paper she was holding. It was a drawing of a dog like human. The face was of a dog,a wolf. The body was covered in Grey looking fur,the feet were similar to those of a human,however the toes were similar to those of a dog, the entire feet were covered in grey fur. It looked disgusting. “is this the werewolf the principal saw?” I asked.