Negan Artwork Novels & Stories

"Nope. Never seen it." "You're lying," I said, my voice tight. "You've drawn this before, haven't you?" "No," he said, shaking his head. "But we notice other artists' work. It looks like an old sigil. Not from around here." I felt a sharp sting of disappointment. I clutched the paper, crinkling it in my fist. "Thanks anyway," I muttered. I walked out and shoved the crumpled paper into a trash can. Ravenna was gone, lost in the crowd, but Cain and Selene were waiting. They weren't looking at me, though. They were looking behind me, their faces stiff.

Going back to that poem, "Let not thy law confronts us, Let not thy mouth of a gun bestow fear upon us, Let not thy dazzling gold blind us, Let not thy pen draw the line between us. Four souls wagered for the good, Let thy stars attest thee, Of these tainted blood, Ready to be spilled." LAW pertains to DANWEL GUN pertains to LANDER GOLD pertains to SHAUN PEN pertains to who? That frame under that dirty cloak, I found a picture. Three people were there. The young, maybe 14-year- old versions of these old geezers were resting in that wooden frame. At the back of the picture frame was the POEM etched on the board.

“Vampires and Dragonkin don’t usually mingle, but yes I have some in stock.” “We’re special like that.” Milo grinned and chose a seat near the bed where I’d sat down. “What kind of art do you want?” He didn’t make any introductions so I didn’t feel the need to introduce us either. I pulled a sheet from my jacket pocket and handed it to him. I’d already designed it myself but if he was as good as I thought he was then he’d redraw it. “It’s in cuneiform, two names and a black baccara rose with thorns on the stem.”

It was organized in a way, a lot like a mini park. I stood at the door way stunned for a moment. In the middle of the room sat Niguez cross-legged, doodling on a canvas with about five pallettes of colors at his disposal. I had never seen him so... Concentrated. I was even starting to have second thoughts on Gomes' true intentions. Then I reminded myself that the man was nothing but a manipulative prick. I was not going to fall for his schemes. “Mummy!” Niguez tackled me in a hug.

He is that rich. When we entered the house, it had an ancient vibe. The paintings, artifacts, and furniture—not modern at all. “Find yourself a room, we'd return to Madonna tomorrow,” he said as he poured himself something reddish that looked like wine. “Can I ask a question?” “No.” “What crime did you commit?” “I didn't give you permission to ask.” “Yeah… But I need to know if I am living with an assasin, a serial killer, armed robbery, or whatever the fuck you are,” I yelled throwing my hands in the air.

The middle-aged man finished his painting and signed his name in one corner: Roland de Vaal. Satisfied, he passed the painting to Chayne. "This is my message to your enemy. Show him this, and he will stop. Or else." The painting was rather macabre. It depicted a man being tormented by what looked like black hounds emerging from hell. Regarding artistry, the painting sat neatly between masterful and average. Chayne, however, held it like it was a real piece of treasure.

Nathan buzzed with energy, pulling Katherine from one display to the next, his voice brimming with pride and excitement as he pointed out his work and that of his classmates. "This one's mine," Nathan said, motioning toward a large, abstract painting with bold strokes of crimson and gold. "I call it 'Chaos and Clarity'. You like it?" Katherine studied the painting for a moment, her lips curving into a smile. "I love it," she said sincerely. "It's... raw. It feels like something you'd create." "Raw is right," Nathan replied with a chuckle, scratching the back of his head. "The professor thought I was having some sort of existential crisis, but honestly, I just really liked the color red."

Lecturer Nikolai's gaze fell on us and the glare he sent our way, was unlike anything. It was only then I believed that he never liked us. Me, Aria and Gideon. We were on his blacklist. “Will you keep standing there like a fool?” He narrowed his gaze. “Get yourself a seat or remain standing.” Aria rolled her eyes secretly before dashing into the room to get herself a seat and an art board for painting. I found a seat for myself and Gideon sat beside me. “I want to see what you all can paint. As an artist, your Artwork conveys alot… your emotions, your feelings and every other thing,” he paused, walking around the Art room. “Draw whatever you can think of in an hour and submit.”

I could tell the person who drawn this must have a great talent. I walked to the next canvas on the other side of the wall and caressed and painting where Layla was petting a golden yellow big seven-headed cobra with adoration. Layla's emotions were shown very beautifully in the canvas. I touched the frame of the canvas and to my surprise, it slid to left and another piece of art was there behind. I realised there was a big collection of the album here and started moving them to the left side.

Maybe painting is exactly what I need to get out of my head and forget the nightmares, even if I have to do it alongside the man I hate. I stare at Nero’s back, watching the muscles flex beneath his shirt as he sets up the easels. Physically, the man is a masterpiece. He’s flawless, sculpted, perfect…his only defect is the cold-blooded monster living inside that perfect chest. Yet, even that feels distant in the quiet of the studio. This doesn’t scream cold or ruthless…it screams human. He motions for me to sit, then takes the stool right beside me. I eagerly pick the brush, bouncing with excitement. “So what are we doing?”