La Llorona Drawing Novels & Stories

“Luna!” I hugged her, taking in her scent of baby powder and roses. “Why aren't you asleep my little sugarplum?” She hid her face in my chest, “I couldn't.” I nodded, knowing the real reason why. I spotted a paper in her hand. “What's that?” She pushed away from me, shoving the paper in my face. “Look, I drew a picture.” It was a drawing of a big wolf and a little wolf under a moon. “It's beautiful, Winnie.”

She makes a sassy face and I chuckle . " Well it's important for .. " I open my bag and search for my notebook that is supposed to be for study notes but is actually my boredom doodle file . " Tada ~ " I finish off as I show her my drawing of Luigini's wife naked and his name written between her legs . Since I didn't know what she looked like I decided to make her faceless , only shading to provide her a proper structure . Kayla slaps her hand against her mouth in order to stifle her laughter . Her face turns slightly red from restricting herself .

I flipped the next paper, and froze. I looked over at him sleeping soundly on the bed and looked back at the drawing. Why would he draw this? It was an image of a lady with a red cloak. He had colored her with red. Then she was surrounded by green bushes. There were small rocks around the area. But what caught my attention the most, was his illustration of the pool of blood on the floor and a small child drowning in it. It was definitely the nightmares. I flipped through the other papers and saw other strange but similar drawings. A red eyed owl. An old house. And the last one was a drawing of an ancient Greek symbol. I couldn't place what it was.

No wonder Killian couldn’t look me in the eye this morning. I reach for the sketch pad Elara left by the nightstand. My fingers tremble, but I grip the pencil like it’s my lifeline. I don’t even think, I just draw. Symbols. Circles. Eyes with fire spilling from them. A wolf with a shattered spine. A crown that burns. A clock with no hands. My hand stops only when I notice the paper trembling beneath my touch. Not from me. From the floor. A low vibration hums through the wood. Like a warning. Something is coming.