Novel & Cerita Puppeteer X Bloody Painter

Maybe they were alike on the inside, and he was going to spill lies and try to make Thomas Black look really…well…black. I giggled at my own thoughts, before Samuel stopped in front of a giant, dark blue canvas with the ocean in stormy weather. I was stunned at how realistic the dark clouds were; how scary and wild the heavy waves were. My fingers gently followed the path of the paintbrush, admiring the mastery.

Greetings to all my wonderful readers! As you've likely noticed, I have actual artwork of my characters for the cover of my book now. This was a commission I paid for from a very dear artist friend by the name of Rydi on DeviantART also known as lucia-garcia on ArtCorgi. We've known each other for a long time now, and I was super happy she gave me permission to use the old commissions in this way, so if you like her style, feel free to check her out.

The fruit platter slipped from Sapphire's hands, smashing onto the floor and sending shards flying in every direction. Adam sat on the ground, raising his head as tears welled up in his eyes. "Dexter, why did you push me? I thought you didn't hate me anymore. Why would you push me again?" I didn't say anything. He was faking it. I knew he was faking it. His tears were just a simulation programmed into him, and his trembling was nothing more than an algorithm running its course.

As Ace flipped through the pages, the soft crackling of the paper filled the space. Ace's fingers moved skillfully over the pages, his eyes scanning each drawing with a mix of pain and yearning. As he turned the pages, I leaned in closer, mesmerized by his talent, my gaze fixed on his strong fingers gently handling each page. Each one unveiled a new design, a new narrative. On one page, I saw a boy gazing at a river, his face reflecting deep sorrow.

All hell broke loose after that. Rain’s hands and legs shook. She hadn’t wanted to scream, she thought maybe Alexander had already given the disgusting man permission to touch her. Then she saw his look of confusion. Then Pietro put the same fingers he had used to rub her through her jeans in his mouth. While Rain fought the urge to throw up just seeing the man’s action, she heard a screech and the something wet splashed a few drops on her face. Everything happened so fast. When she opened her eyes, she was met with the sight of a bloody knife sticking out of the back of Mr. Pietro’s palm.

Cheeks wet from the tears a soft sob escaping from her lips only to be unheard even by the guy who is in the same room or a basement she assumed as there was no window around. One after the other the drop of blood dripped on the bucket as the boy with the grey eyes kept on painting over the canvas. The canvas is painted with deep red as the same replica of the women tied on the chair. The only colour that was upon it was red of different shades with its background in black colour. “Naa~naa~na~na~na~Naaa~Naaa~Na~” the smile turns into a smirk as he takes a deep breathtaking scent of blood. Making him cover his mouth with the back of his hand still holding the brush.

The bell over the door rings and the smell of coffee hits me, and the barista smiles like this is just another afternoon. “Hey, what can I get you?” “Coffee,” I say. “Black.” She nods and turns around, and I watch reflections in the glass instead of faces. Two wolves I do not recognize. A hunter pretending to scroll. And something else that feels wrong, like rot mixed with metal. Gus is moving pieces. I take the coffee and leave without sitting, and the second I step back outside my phone buzzes again. A call this time. “Arachne,” I say when I answer.

"You need to buy Lonely Sunset. It is the best piece you will ever see." Now all the rich alphas understand. They see that this painting is a masterpiece. I made it with just a few quick moves of my hand, and I changed the whole werewolf world. "I am bidding one hundred and twenty million pack resources!" a powerful alpha screams out. The price goes up so fast. Most of the wolves in the room look sad. They know their pack accounts cannot pay that much. Now only the biggest mafia bosses can play this game. "One hundred and thirty million!" a man with a scarred face yells.

I suddenly felt a big hammer pounding my head, causing me to hold on to the bed frame and close my eyes because of dizziness. A sudden scene crossed my mind. Inside, the cell with a red werewolf facing Alarick and Convel. “A sanguis.” Both Alarick and Convel said as they were staring at a two-tailed red werewolf. In return, the red werewolf gave them a low growl. Instead of being scared, Alarick and Convel looked fascinated by the sight. The bloody color of the werewolf is shining as well as the two tails it keeps on swaying.

IRIS It’s already dark when I woke up and I can feel my puffed eyes due to crying. I tried to open the lights and couldn’t believe that it still works. I look through dad’s old stuffs that my mom didn’t bother to pack up because it will only remind us of him. His books, his glasses, the bean bags that he set especially for me so that I wouldn't feel lonely when he's working. Oh Did I mention that he was an author? He was known for the pen name Morpheus and had lots of followers and readers online. He was a famous fantasy writer, and the book, entitled Iris, was supposed to be his last piece. But it was incomplete so it was not acknowledged. Dad's account is still alive, but no one can access