Old Man Eating Paint Novels & Stories

I gasp. "It will burn a lot more very soon" The old man's breath smells like rotten meat as he pinches my chin between with his sharp fingernails. "We are going to suck out your soul and feed it to my child so that he can grow up to be big and strong." "I am not a juice box." I snap, "You can't drink me." He laughs as if I've said something funny. I'm serious. He's talking about me like I'm lunch for his baby.

I needed to preserve what little sanity I had left in me when it came to being around the presence of this witchy devil. I moved to the opposite wall and saw that it consisted of a number of paintings like I'd seen earlier when I stepped into the room. I took a closer look to notice that most of them were of little Adrian. Almost all the paintings showed him eating. There was one where - he had a lollipop in his mouth, one where he had his mouth full of an entire slice of pizza- how he had even managed to get the entire thing in his mouth in the first place was beyond me- while one of them showed him crying as an ice cream fell near his feet. All of the paintings looked realistic, but at the

"I've been waiting for you." An older gentleman, probably in his 70's, spoke without looking up. Vasiliy. Though Jozef had seen pictures of the man, he hadn't met Vasiliy in person. He was a robust man, with wide shoulders and a round belly. He sported a snowy white head of hair and a beard that reached halfway down his neck. In his hand was a fine-tipped paintbrush. He was carefully applying red paint to what looked like a doll's face.

Just say it out! The little fellow was thinking about all this. At this time, the Old Master opened the drawer beside the bed, took out a pack of imported candy, opened it, and stuffed a big handful into Vincent's hand. "Come on, eat the sweet. This is for you." "Thank you, Great-Grandpa!" After thanking him, Vincent took one of the candy and ate it. Then he put the rest in his pocket but did not take it out to eat. Seeing this, the Old Master became nervous. "Why don't you eat it? Don't you like sweets?"

"What are they trying to do with me?" The old man walked up the platform with half the skull of an animal. It worked as a trayas he carried powdered red colour in it. He walked to me. He then grabbed a handful of colour and sprinkled it over my head. He then upturned the whole container and painted me red, especially my head. I coughed as some of it got into my mouth.

A man in plain white shirt and long blank pant , his apron was stained with different colored of oil paint but one could sense the seriousness, in the man's eyes as he carefully crate his creature. The sounds of the heel finally stopped at the front of the painter, who completely ignore the person. " Aren't you getting tried of painting her alread?! When could have her in person?" The painter carefully dropped his brush, his hazel grey eyes causally passed the person talking before resuming his art work. ( Why is this old man hard to convince?) << Host, maybe you should use a brutal method instead; this is a waste of time.>> The uninterested expression on the painter face infuriates the ot

A low raspy laugh filled my ears adding horrific images to my paranoia. I quieted it was no use fighting the unknown. I had no choice but to hold on to Yulian’s promise; I would be okay. My breathing hitched, dampness brushed through my breast. The strong smell of paint covered my nostrils. Strokes were meticulously laid and I became a canvass of an obscure art. “She’s all done,” announced a man, I presumed the painter. He rounded me once more before patting my behind. “Yeah, she’s all good. What marvelous skin you have! A living porcelain doll!”

Gross… "Fabio, please bring us some snacks here. This beauty must be hungry." The young, opportunist girl smiled at the old man and flirtingly caressed his arm. "I'm okay, daddy." "No, beauty. Please, eat. You'll need it for later." The old man, even though he was handsome even at his age, looked so gross. It was disgusting that the woman couldn't help but to grimace secretly. "Alright, if you say so, daddy," she said and smiled seductively, biting into her glossy lips.

A smirk appeared on his features, publishing a train of yellow teeth standing up miserably. Liam, who was not at all taken aback by the old man's behaviour, silently clenched his teeth while he hushedly looked at him— without any inch of his figure moving. "The patience, you got in the whole world?" The old man questioned, without the benefit of using correct grammar whilst dirtying himself as he shoved his naked toes inside the mud. Out of the blue, he began convulsing with his urine-smelling breath covering itself on Liam's face.

taking more close look at this place there's no bed, this must be her office, turned out they brought all of her things here after she passed away, and then I saw my older man lying on the couch hugging a picture frame in his sleep I bent down to look at the picture and it was his late wife, she was indeed beautiful. I don't know why I felt a sudden tightening in my chest, I left the room and went back upstairs to our room, I got to the dining and sat down dejectedly looking at the dishes that I prepared and knowing that he won't be coming upstairs tonight, I suddenly lost appetite, I thought my older man liked me, could it be that he's still in love with his late wife?