Picture Of The Abominable Snowman Novels & Stories

I was busy spoiling my eyes with the natural beauty of the forest when I noticed something… a figure. It’s standing in the center of the forest and bathing under the moonlight like it was absorbing all the energy from above. I stepped closer to get a better view of the weird figure. That's when I realized that the figure I was seeing was a wolf. Not just any wolf, but a creature of pure, ethereal beauty. It’s snow-white fur resembling the purity of the moon, shimmering with otherworldly glitters. Its eyes, deep blue color, seemed to hold the depth of the universe.

Abigail asked with a frown. Zita pointed. Abigail followed her fingers. Her mouth dried, and sweat pricked her skin when she saw the small hut that was made out of the debris of the forest. It looked ten thousand years old. The light of the sun did not touch any on edge, and darkness loomed on every corner. Just beside the building, an apparition, something that had the face of a man but with body dancing in the air like a cloud of smoke, stood and watched them. It was white, and its hair seemed to have life of their own.

His hand clutched the bow as tight as possible. The aura was so heavy that it almost made them puke their guts out. All hell broke loose when they saw the figure inching closer. With every step, they began to feel the pressure that almost made them kneel. A grotesque face 4 meters above the ground. Dark, blistered, hairless skin with veins popping out from all over the body, two round swollen eyes peering inside their souls like Satan's pawn. Disfigured nose and crooked teeth with jaws wide open, giving the illusion of the heinous smile. They all looked at the figure as if they were gazing into the abyss of barbarity and maliciousness.

He said with a shake as he sat on the chair and leaned a little bit sad. “There’s no bad man here, there’s nothing to worry about.” She said to which he only shook his head, “Okay well, what does the bad man look like?” She asked. He gulped, he pulled out a picture from his pocket and showed it to her. “He looks like this.” The picture nearly made her gasp as she looked at it. It prickled her mind as the unforgettable face appeared. It was the black crust of darkness and it looked terrifying. The same one that nearly choked her to death.

Bad trip, I'm cold! It was as if the air stopped when a woman appeared in my eyes. It is white, and her hair is silver due to her old age but its beauty cannot be denied. If I was beautiful to him even though the skin was wrinkled, what else would it have been when he was just my age? But shit, I saw a picture of them in Snow Fall. I thought it was enhanced because it was painted, but shit, it looks really real.

"If you are sensitive to the cold, do not stand out here in the snow. Get in the snowcrawler." A man sat inside a snowcrawler, dressed in a bluish-gray robe. His features bore a striking resemblance to Isolde's, as though they had been shaped from the same mold.

Not as weird as seeing someone you raised and kept alive turning into the enemy, but still. I play the next clip so I can watch a person who should have ended in a condom, now in the shape of a beast, watch the big wolf walk away. Then he shudders and folds and turns into a naked man on his knees in the snow. The white one's a naked man too. The second one goes to the first and puts his hands on him. Unnatural whoresons. I stop it there. I've seen that part before. There's a photograph of it in my desk drawer.

Saint chuckles. “Yeah, you could give the abominable snowman a run for his money.” I smirk at the picture. “We could use it to buy our mate flowers.” He hums. “Maybe after school we could go see her? We need to see if the curse is still in effect.”

The heavy glass of the balcony doors didn't shatter; it disintegrated into fine, white powder. Two men stepped into the room. They weren't wolves. They weren't human. They were tall, gaunt, and dressed in robes of blindingly white silk that seemed to glow with an inner radiance. Their faces were obscured by silver masks that lacked eyes—only smooth, polished metal where a gaze should be. "The Abomination," one of them spoke. His voice didn't sound like it came from a throat; it sounded like the grinding of stones. "The Silver Spark that threatens the Great Night."

Its metallic claws elongated with a series of sharp clicks, the purple light in its eyes flaring with murderous intent. "No! Wait! Please!" Somad screamed, scrambling backward on his hands and feet as the creature loomed over him. "I know all of their plans! I know where the pack treasures are hidden! Lihont, please! I’ll be your slave! Anything!" The creature didn't stop. It raised its arm, the long blades casting a shadow over Somad’s tear-streaked face. The last thing Somad saw was the cold, unfeeling glow of the Abomination’s eyes as the claws began moving downwards.