Lovecraft Graphic の小説・ストーリー

Even though Ethelbert was busy with other things, his sensitivity was always waiting. "On the killer's scalp and tongue there is a tattoo. The symbol belongs to one of the Four Great Families." Ethelbert's searching finger paused slightly. Until now, he had been silent, waiting for Vincent to continue. As if seeing Ethelbert's current actions directly right now, Vincent let out a sigh and wearily said: "It's an eagle." Eagle. It is the symbol of the Celton family - also the family of Vincent.

It was clear that Arthur Graham was his obsession. Jennifer again felt hands, large, warm, and calloused, run over her hips and caress the globes of her ass. As she felt them spread her thighs apart, she shivered with anticipation. She almost bit Arthur when a hot tongue began to caress the folds of her need-wet sex. Where she knew, she hid that button that would please them. That scene was decadent, Arthur had one hand on her shoulder and held his member with the other, setting the rhythm of the thrusts into her mouth. And between her thighs, the expert caresses of that afternoon's second lover.

’ She drawled and I saw the evil hate in her eyes, making me want to turn and run. “I got you guys a toy!’, she cackled as she flung her hands about Lovelace, almost throttling him as she sank onto his lap, her arms around his neck. ‘I wanna play…’ slurred Lovelace with a huge grin and I saw he was sozzled as his blue eyes roved over me, and then fixed on my breasts. Mustafa had his large hand clamped on my upper arm as he licked his thick lips and said,

It's an endless stream of merriment. This creature was elegant, the aura around him loudly spoke royalty. The love in his eyes seems to be stronger than any story I had heard of love potion's power. The waves of the tender love I felt protruding from him was stronger than my little tender heart that had never in real time experience love.

Joan argues. "Sure" Jade rolls her eyes playfully, her fingers stop when she spots a particular book, taking it out from between the books, she looks at its cover. The cover held the image of a full moon, with a huge figure, what appeared like a Lycan with its head raised upwards in a howl. It was a book on Lycanthropy, covering almost all topics related to Lycans, their origin, purpose, mates, everything was showed in the content section. Jade decided to take the book.

I stood, walking over to the window, and held it up. The carved relief was beautiful in the light. The wolf, I now realized, had something that looked like a crown floating above its head. A woman’s face was carved into the moon, serene and beautiful with closed eyes and a half-smiling mouth. I had seen that image before, in the books I’d read on Lycans back at the academy library. Was this a Lycan artifact, I wondered? It seemed old enough. But I didn’t know how or why my mother would have one.

The grimoire turned out to be the largest book Cassandra had ever seen, with pages made of parchment illuminated with tracery, and it was open to a page thickly covered with elegant, intricate writing. To Cassandra, it was the most beautiful handwriting she had ever seen. She felt the urge to trace her fingers over the inked pages. There were pictures of herbs, flowers, roots, and seeds. There were also diagrams and drawings of astronomy. Some of them with suns, moons, and stars, or symbols for the zodiacal constellations: two fish for Pisces, a bull for Taurus, a hunter with a crossbow for Sagittarius, and so on. Each of these had female figures arranged in two or more concentric bands. Mos

Alexander He gritted his teeth as he studied the image of his lycan above the marbled mantlepiece. The painting was done by a royal pack member, Paul Cezanne in 1858. The worth of the art was invaluable like the artist himself. No matter how much he tried to relax, it was impossible. His wolf was snarling and roaring in his head, wanting blood on his sharp canines. The blood of the enemy. A fucking necromancer. He will tear him piece by piece by nightfall tomorrow.

Only a few bloodlines survived, hidden among normal wolves. Lucian's hands shake slightly as he rolls the scroll closed. He grabs another. Then another. Each tells similar stories. Lycans mingled with "shadow-born" creatures. Vampires, some scrolls name them. Others call them night-walkers, blood-drinkers, immortal hunters. One scroll shows detailed diagrams. Lucian spreads it flat, weighing the corners with stones. The drawings depict wolves mid-shift, but wrong. Fangs stretch longer than any wolf's. Claws curve like scythes. Eyes glow not silver or gold, but crimson. Or purple. Or colors that don't have names.

A large table sat in the center, covered in maps, papers, graphs, and diagrams scattered like someone had been frantically working. The air smelled of old paper and something sharp, almost like blood. We crowded around the table, my eyes drawn to the strange drawings. The diagrams showed creatures,bhuman-like but wrong, with long fangs, or claws too sharp for any wolf. My breath caught as I read the handwritten notes: Hybridization Process: Wolf Blood Integration. Words like “vampire” and “Dracula strain” were scrawled everywhere, alongside charts about mixing wolf blood to create a hybrid, half wolf, half something monstrous.