Ragna Crimson Wallpaper Novels & Stories

my laugh becoming more and more uncontrollable. “You should be happy I don’t crave werewolf brain, no one will be safe in this house” she says with a mouthful. As I step closer to her, I notice the intricately designed wallpaper in the room, adorned with delicate floral patterns that add a touch of elegance to the space. The room itself is neat and tidy, with soft lighting that creates a warm and cozy ambiance. “Are the wallpapers new?” I ask out of sheer curiosity and she gives a honest response. “Silver was out for some time and she thinks they’ll look lovely in the room”.

SYDNEY The dining room exuded an air of quiet opulence, draped in rich velvets and adorned with glistening crystal chandeliers. The long, polished table stretched out before me, a grand tapestry of fine china and delicate silverware. Candles, tall and slender, stood like sentinels, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. Their flickering dance seemed to mirror the ebb and flow of the secrets that hung in the air. As I settled into my chair, the plush upholstery embraced me, its deep burgundy hue a testament to the craftsmanship that had gone into every detail of this room. The weight of the evening's encounters clung to me like a shroud, settling in the marrow of my bones. The councilwo

Its strong odor is so vibrant that it knocks me out of my own head so that I swivel to glance at my surroundings. ​“Catching a tan, Nate?” I meet Roxanne Harlow’s eyes and have flashbacks to a forgotten night a few years ago in this very space. She smirks at me, laughing at her own joke and begins to twirl her pink hair. She always was changing it so I wasn’t surprised to see her the first night of the Crimson Ball with a strawberry milk dye job.

The Palace Transformed Back at the palace, preparations had turned the great hall into a vision of splendor. Crimson banners hung from the vaulted ceilings, edged in gold, swaying softly as though they carried their own heartbeat. Tables stretched from one end of the room to the other, draped in white linens embroidered with the royal crest. Moonlilies, roses, and dark ivy cascaded from silver vases, filling the air with fragrance both sweet and sharp. Golden candelabras lined the walls, their flames reflecting off polished marble until the entire hall glowed as though kissed by starlight.

Elias walked to a locked cabinet built into the wall. Using an old mechanical key instead of a digital passcode, he unlocked a narrow steel drawer. Inside rested several weathered journals. Paper. Actual paper. Older than most people living inside Zelios. He selected one carefully. The leather cover had almost completely faded. Across the front, barely visible beneath decades of wear, four handwritten words remained. Project Crimson hunger. Aldren's eyes narrowed. "I thought every copy was destroyed." "So did I." Elias gently opened the journal. Several pages had been torn out. Others were stained with dried blood. He turned slowly until one name appeared.

The strong smell wafted through the room instantly, overpowering the sweet fragrance of Lara's lemon air freshener. Their room was painted a cool shade of purple and white with a bunk bed leaning against both side of the room. Posters of Halle Berry, Naomi Campbell and a half naked Latino male model lined the wall. In the far end corner of the room, blouses, jeans and every size bra imaginable were carelessly draped over a chair. Strings of colorful waistbeads dangled from a bent nail on the pastel wall.

"No offense taken. Even though she's still a child, I have a mate too and find it hard to feed off of anyone, let alone let them feed off me. Let's just keep this civil and quick." Nadja said, before turning and walking through the curtain that led to a smaller room just past the seating area. The room was covered with red walls and black trim. Cliche, but typical. It's the color of the ancient, which is the reason the coven still has so much red throughout. To honor the deceased ancients.

When we reached the pack house, some of the pack members, including the Beta are waiting for us outside. "Welcome to the house of Lestat," the Beta welcomed us. "Thank you, Tarik," Lucien acknowledged by nodding his head. So the Beta's name is Tarik. Tarik led us inside the mansion. The pack house of Crimson Pack is a Tudor-style mansion. It is mostly made of bricks and its interior screams power. Sculptures of the former Alphas are placed on each side of the aisle. I roamed my eyes around to check if there are normal beings but I only saw the scrutinizing stares from the pack members.

Both of their dressers are white with little yellow sunflowers, and in fact even the old bollywood movie posters on Vahini’s side of the wall are color-coded in yellow. The room smells like spicy food and incense; the blend of bright yellow and sharp scents always managing to give me a headache if I focus too much on it. Like Annabelle Rooney had put it once; the room is a goth’s hell and a xanthophiliac’s heaven. The only differences between the two sides of their dorm are the ginormous crystals and tarot cards on Vahini’s dresser, her colorful saris placed on hanged display, and her wide red Persian rug. Bibah in turn has an impressive collection of swords hung up on her side of the wall,

I ask, clutching his arm unconsciously, "They're so big!" "To the other rooms," he says frankly, "that's the only way to get there. "Wow," I look up at the beautiful chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling, noticing the mural painted above me. It's of wolves in the forest, hunting a bunch of humans. But the strange thing about them is that the human's eyes are red, bright like the green eyes of werewolves but a different color. They are really scary and intimidating, sending a recognition into my chest. I've... seen those eyes before.