Scream Drawings Novels & Stories

I was a Saint to my mom and a slut to the men in my life. I grabbed my sketchbook and a charcoal stick. I didn't plan it. I just started scratching at the paper, the black dust staining my fingers. I drew myself not the pretty version. I drew a boy with his chest ripped open, screaming into a void. I drew giant, jagged hawks with Chadwick’s eyes and Miguel’s tattoos, literal pieces of my flesh hanging from their beaks. I pressed so hard the charcoal snapped, tearing the paper. It was the only way I could scream.

It swirled in lazy patterns with every step I took, making it obvious no one had been in here for years. The stillness in the air felt heavy and untouched, as if the room itself had been holding its breath, waiting for someone to return and disturb it. Drawings covered the walls, some pinned haphazardly while others were curled at the edges where the adhesive had failed. They depicted all kinds of things, but the majority were creatures twisted, nightmarish things with too many limbs, hollow eyes and gaping mouths lined with jagged teeth. Among the creatures were strange Landscapes places that looked warped and wrong, as if reality had stretched too thin. There were also people, some drawn i

A piece of paper fluttered out. It was a drawing. Crayons on construction paper. Catherine picked it up, and her blood ran cold. The drawing showed two stick figures standing on a jagged white line (the ice). One was labelled "Daddy," drawn in blue. The other was labelled "Sad Man," drawn in red. They were fighting. But above them, the sky was ripped open. A black hole was drawn in the clouds. And coming out of the hole wasn't light. It was a tentacle. A massive, black, spiraling limb covered in eyes.

I couldn't sleep. Desperate for an escape, I grabbed a sheet of heavy art paper and began drawing. My hands shook as I began to draw, letting my raw emotion guide the strokes. Within minutes, James's face began to emerge from the stark white paper. I stared intensely into his eyes through the charcoal lines, feeling a dangerous, intoxicating connection to a ghost.

“Make sure it fits. Be quick and catch up with lectures.” I nodded, palms sweating. Inside the restroom, I ignored the uniform. Ripped the notebook from my bag. Flipped it open. And froze. Sketch after sketch of my face. Different angles. Sketches in ink, pencil, charcoal. Some neat, some frantic. Me laughing. Crying. Screaming. One with blood dripping from my eyes. Each drawing was flawless. Too perfect. Every angle of my face, every curl of my hair, every shadow. Like the artist had memorized me.

Susan said looking around on the ground. "What did you drop ?" Khloe tried peering out of the cage . "This ." Susan picks a charcoal pencil from the ground that had rolled toward Khloe cage . "What do you use that for ." Khloe asked . " I draw at times ." Susan answered. "Really ?" Khloe sounded amused . "uh-huh ." Susan nods her head "I will make a drawing of you someday." Susan promised. "I hope so ." Khloe answered. "What the hell are you doing there ?" A voice startled them, it was the ugly vampire that had pissed into her cage the previous day ,the same one that had fucked the maid.

He does this all the time just to stop me from crying, and it works every single time. He grabbed my hand and took me back to his desk, he held the paper and said, "here, your turn to draw", he said ordering, I took the paper and draw him making him look like an old man , I drew him right next to the girl that’s supposed to be me, and made them holding hands. Suddenly I got an idea, I added a black moustache to Tony's face that I just draw, and started doing the same with Tony's real face, the one who was sitting next to me. "Ouch!! Be careful Scar!!", he said making me laugh, Tony looked to the paper one more time and blushed when he saw our holding hands.

She watched, paralyzed, as Liam picked up a crimson-red marker and began to draw a thick, jagged pool of blood beneath the painted boy. As he finished the last stroke, Liam’s composure finally shattered. He began to scream silently, his mouth open in an agonizing sob that made no sound. He began to stab the paper with the red marker, over and over, puncturing the images of the two monsters. He wasn't drawing anymore; he was attacking. He gripped the pen like a dagger, his eyes filled with a raw, ancient hatred that sent a shiver of pure terror through Chloe’s heart.

At this moment, the demon eye in the drawing suddenly moved its pupil towards her. Edward's first drawing after making a deal with the devil was the demon eye he met in his dream. It was the scary realistic paintings. The blood veins in the eye were also carefully sketched. Its sudden movement frightened Mrs. Dieter. The lights in the room flashed one after another and the whole space fell into a terrifying darkness.

Jade screamed angrily, tearing out and crumpling up a sheet of paper from her sketchbook. She threw it across the room and it landed on the floor close to the door, increasing the litter of crumpled paper and broken pencils in the room. She took a new pencil from behind her ears, her fingers shaky as she began to draw lines and curves, in readiness for another sketch. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture a face, Tiger's face - that was what they called him but she knew his name began with the letter H.