Phantom Artwork Novels & Stories

I decided to roam around here and touch objects. I walk close to the big painting in his wall. It was painted by a known artist. This is really a master piece. I also went behind his table and the breath-taking view welcomed me. WOW! I can really see the building from here! And I know this view will be a lot more better when it’s night time. The building will have light and you’ll see the cars also with their lights on. And also in sunset.

Its ears had stood up straight, searching for the source of the sound, slowly breathing through its muzzle as its eyes searched round in the darkness and the woods for the one who made such sound It still had a Mark on its claws. The other had shifted back to his human form, and his pain had increased with his shifting process. He was weak beyond imagination. The Phantom was a powerful beast that night, and his strength had failed him when it came to fighting such a monstrosity. It searched until its eyes had caught the sight of something hidden within the trees. It intentionally reduced his breath, breathing slowly while it strained its eyes deeply into viewing what it had suspected to be t

“Whoever wrote this is definitely paid personally.” This would sound weird, but it made me relaxed a little bit that someone else than me was mad. So I was not overreacting, was I? Our new product consisted of an eye palette with an art theme. I sampled some colors from famous paintings such as Da Vinci’s Monalisa, Klimt’s The Kiss, Michelangelo’s The Creation of Adam, and Rembrandt’s The Night Watch. I was excited with that product, because I was contributing not just as the boss, but also as an artist. It was nice to include something that you love to your work.

The display in front of her was a surreal cityscape, folded in on itself like something of a dream. The buildings bent toward one another, catching lighting in impossible angles as she tilted both sides wondering if it could change shape. When it did not, she glanced down to read the digital plaque glowing beneath the frame: Lot 34.Urban Reverie–R. Danes. Current Bid: $120,000. A man’s voice came from just across her. “Fun fact. The artist drew that by hand. No software nor ruler grids. Just three years of soft torture and sheer lunacy.”

I hated to break it, but they were going home not even with a cent to their names. “Ten million dollars going for one… two… And sol—” “That is a fake artwork. It's not designed by Indigo Nightingale,” my voice suddenly cut through the audience, and all eyes turned in my direction. Yes! It's about to go dirty…

I commented pointing to the large photo of a butterfly with such details on each wing that sat on the wall, the woman nodding her head with a smile. “That was painted by a local artiest, each wing holds the names of each former rouge we were able to help and send to a new pack. We have more of her artwork I will be happy to show you.” The woman explained the nice story behind the artwork before walking away to retrieve the artwork, leaving me a moment to look over to Lee who hadn’t left my side at all.

"Looking for the Monet? It's not in there." Phantom frowned. "How do you know that?" "You're getting old, Phantom. You saw the Boss and you still think the painting is here?" "I had to try," he shrugged. She smiled. "The painting is at the art house already, ready for sale if you make it you can get it. Meanwhile, the boss wants to talk to you. Now." Phantom frowned. Sure he had talked to the boss while exchanging pleasantries that night but the man had shown no indication of wanting a conversation. In fact, Phantom had thought he didn't remember him.

The cover of The Immortal Muse featured my latest painting: Rebirth. It was a phoenix rising from the ashes, its feathers still tipped with fire. But its eyes were full of a yearning for new life. "The Artist Who Breathes Life into Canvas—An Exclusive with the Enigmatic Phoebe Miller." I looked at the headline and smiled. Phoebe Miller. My brand new identity. An independent artist, recognized for my own talent and hard work. "Congratulations, Phoebe." Julian walked over with a glass of champagne. "The tickets for your solo exhibition are completely sold out."

"We have this war since the Phantom divided almost eight hundred years ago, right? Overtime, it nurtured death and hatred between the Triad. Unreasonable rules began, claiming them as taboos but in truth, there's nothing wrong about them at all. Your biological Mom and my Aunt Aria were mated for each other and the fact that you were born in this world proved that we may live without any war. In summary, you're the embodiment of the peace my father had dreamt of." I blinked in surprise. "Me? Why me?" Vance chuckled. "Isn't it obvious? You are the daughter of two Alphas——a Phantom and a Wolf Grave. So it means you're most likely the heiress of that position....maybe not right now because ever

And in the center of it all stood a massive three-dimensional projection—a holographic map of the entire Soul Recycle Program system, each world rendered in perfect detail, floating in space like miniature planets in a twisted solar system. Every world we'd survived was there, glowing softly. Dracula's Castle with its gothic spires. The Siren's Valley with its moving water. The Sandman's Sandbox, cracked and glitching where Mia had damaged it. The Crimson Hunt with its blood-red light. Dozens more we hadn't seen yet, each one a new nightmare waiting to consume us. And at the very center of it all, pulsing with dark energy that made my eyes hurt to look at directly, was the Core, the heart of