Siren Head Drawing Novels & Stories

The yellow changed into soft gold, and I added more black lines around it, but the lines looked more like cracks, or maybe… like broken glass. I didn’t know why. But the image of Aidan’s face flashed in my mind. The way he looked scared. The way he begged me to stay away. And then, Raven’s cold eyes as they looked at me. Before I realized it, I had drawn a silhouette of a man behind the dress. His face wasn’t clear, it was just hidden in shadow. But he looked like he was watching from far away. I stared at my sketch, and came back to my senses. What the hell was I drawing?

Chapter 12: Werewolves vs Sirens At the sight of the woman dragging the lifeless Jonathan into the water, my senses returned, drowning the artificial voices that had whispered in my head. “Jonathan! I screamed at the top of my voice. Hayley and Eric turned to me, confusion written on their faces. Eric drew out his spear and threw it, striking the siren on the arm. With a roar, she lunged at him. But before she could get any closer, Hayley shot at her, her arrow piercing the siren’s heart. With a loud cry, the siren fell into the sea, the water around her, turning crimson. Suddenly, more sirens began to rise from the water, their predatory gazes locked on us. Some jumped on the boat, their ta

I say, taking off the net was quite easy, it melts quickly with my scales. And the effortless way to die is not what I aim for, I want to show them why sirens are feared, why they should not mess with me especially, the one and only princess of sirens. With one smile I continue to sharpen my teeth before biting one of the men’s neck off, yes, we are brutal creatures. The other men seem to have snap out of the illusion my voice enchanted them in. but it will never stop me, stop me from biting their necks off and watching them scream and shiver in agony.

The soldier mermaids have tritons and wear funny looking helmets with kelp coming out the top. One of the sirens holds my hand. A large gate is before us within the valley. As the gate opens I prepare for whatever lies beyond it. Is there a king or a queen that commands these people? Whatever the purpose is for bringing me down here I am sure they will tell me soon.

Her head snaps in my direction and her singing stops. “Don’t stop. That was beautiful.” I say gruffly. “Stay away.” She shouts, even her speaking voice is deep and raspy. I see her pointy little teeth and her coal-black eyes, her Siren is in control. Her iridescent blue tail slaps the water in a warning. Normally, Sirens would be all for leading a man to their watery death, but not before claiming their bodies to sate their carnal desire. This Siren is different though because she’s mated. I step closer, and a hiss releases from her lips, and I know I only have minutes before she starts chanting to make the water do her bidding. I make a mad dash to the lake, my tiger, Hugo, urging me to go

Wren's whole body goes still. The spoon stops halfway to the pot, water hissing against the burner behind her, and for one full second she forgets to breathe at all. "What pictures, baby?" Fern doesn't answer right away. She opens the sketchbook instead, flips past pages of careful, precise drawings, houses and dogs and one recurring sketch of three stick figures holding hands under a tree, until she lands on a page near the back. It's a face. A rough, five-year-old attempt at a face, dark hair, a hard line for a jaw, done in the same grey pencil Fern uses for everything she isn't sure how to name yet.