Scream Drawings Novels & Stories

Fuck this babysitting shit. I had been really suffering a lot, and life decided to make it more worst, and that very night I saw again what I didn’t wanted to see, and that was the final draw The bitch was on one of the camp table, butt naked, his dick perfectly inside her, and her arms were wrapped perfectly around his shoulders, she had a fufliling smile on her face, but his was more focused on what he was doing than pleasure…no he was having pleasure…

The cover was embossed with a symbol that looked like a twisted, enraged claw mark. Nate crossed the room, the ghost sense of Kieran’s touch still tingling on his skin. He stood beside his chair, close enough to feel the warmth coming from him, and peered down at the pages. The script was old, but the images were brutally clear: depictions of wolves, but different. They were monstrously big, their musculature exaggerated and vicious, with four separate, scary sets of fangs in their gaping maws.

Opposite and sides of the room sat tall shelves carrying textbooks, all medical. He was always studying. I stopped at the table, looking over the papers. Then I took interest on a particular white sheet of paper sticking out of a large red covered book. On the paper's protruded side was a drawing of some creature. I hate to admit that it actually looks like a werewolf but it did. Picking it out from the book and up to my face, I could clearly see the picture now. It's an image of a werewolf, it's body parts fully labelled.

What I saw inside the envelope made me nauseous. It’s a picture of a man with full of blood. There’s also a picture of its back with a words engrave in it. THE HUNT STARTS NOW! -JMJ What the hell?

He saw that the cover had ‘Caiden Silver’ written on it. Raising a brow, he flipped it open and his heart dropped. The word ‘Die’ was written in different fonts with blobs of red paint splattered across the page. Corbin flipped the page over, and his eyes widened, on the second page was a drawing of an arm which was slit open and written on the arm was ‘Caiden Silver.’ The third picture had a pack of sixteen wolves drawn on it, eating a person and on that person's body was written ‘Me’ as if the ‘me’s’ were colouring it. Each wolf had a name written on them representing all his siblings and parents in the drawing.

He stepped inside, eyes flicking automatically over the organized chaos of her desk—journal stacks, a half‑drunk coffee, Park’s latest draft open on the tablet. No stapler. Of course. He turned to leave and saw it. A photo, half‑tucked under a file, edge peeking out just enough to catch the eye. A small hand, smudged with blue and red crayon. A wolf drawing with too many teeth. Curiosity was a reflex he’d never successfully shut off. He reached out and slid the paper the rest of the way clear. Two sheets, actually. On top: the drawing. Three wolves—one with a small, one with bared teeth, one with a crooked leg, and a long line in its paw. Labels in wobbly, determined letters.

I winked at him. " I trust you and your artistic skills," he assured me. I placed the brush on his collarbone, moving down his chest, drawing the silhouette of a snake across his muscles. His eyes followed my every move with a smug smile on his face. I couldn't deny that Liam was handsome, and if it hadn't been for the feeling I had already noticed Skyller had for him, I probably would have taken the opportunity to find out if he lived up to his reputation. I finished the drawing with white paint, making some details like eyes and scales, ignoring the other girls' glances at our little interaction.

That just seems sadistic in my opinion. And I have been told I was sadistic. Multiple times. Not judging more, I flipped to another page. This one is a drawing. A blackhole. I don’t know what makes them think anyone wouldn’t get the drawing. It was quite fucking clear. But there was a scribbling in bold letters that says, ‘The Black Hole’. I wanted to find the owner and give them a small upside for whatever shit this is. Seeing their taste for a gift though, nothing else should surprise me.

With a flick of his hand, Ezra tossed the sketchbook onto Scarlett's hand. Scarlett gazed at the sketches in the sketchbook, drawn with colored pencils. In the drawings, there were curtains with small flowers, round tables and chairs, and a playroom filled with many toys! Each room also had sunflowers, and the vases holding the sunflowers were large with plump bodies... Additionally, in each room, there were wind chimes with bells hanging, as if with every gust of wind, the sound of the bells could be heard... How... how could this be! Scarlett's eyes widened in astonishment as she looked at page after page of the drawings.

“Do you think it means something?” I hugged my knees. “I don’t know. But I think she’s real.” Rhett rubbed his eyes. “Could you give me a sketch or something?” I got out of bed, tiptoed over to the desk, and grabbed some paper and crayons. I didn’t talk—I just drew. Big swirly black veil. Hollow eyes. Long fingers. Long black dress. Rhett stared at it like he was studying a treasure map. “That’s... not normal,” he said.