Slytherin Artwork Novels & Stories

The walls are pure white, but when I lift my gaze, the ceiling steals my breath. A grand, renaissance mural is across it. It displays wolves in man and animal form, locked in battle. Their claws are tearing, fangs sinking and blood spilling onto the earth. It’s haunting, right above my head. Most of the sculptures throughout the corridor are in pure gold and it is more than a clear indication of Drogo, my so-called mate’s wealth. Is that how I am to even say his name? Is it Khal or Drogo? Or do I just call him Alpha king or majesty?

ALPHA OLIVER OLIVER – THIRD FLOOR, STEINHART MAIN LAB CENTER The hum of chemicals boiling was a kind of comfort—steady, predictable, unlike most things in this hellhole. Across the glass lab bench, Sylvia stood poised, her crimson hair tied in a tight braid, stirring something thick and iridescent in a rune-etched cauldron. Her fingers moved with precision—an artist of blood and elements. Even from here, I could feel the power humming off her skin like static.

the voice responded with a hint of amusement. Sia hummed thoughtfully, then pointed toward another piece hanging nearby. “What do you see in this one?” she asked, her steps taking her closer to it. “Abstract,” he replied with little hesitation. Sia smiled and handed him a pair of sleek black sunglasses. “What do you see now?” He hesitated before slipping them on, his expression shifting as his gaze swept over the piece. “Blood... War...” he murmured, almost as if the artwork itself had stirred something inside him. Something so ugly and uncomfortable.

The colors danced and shimmered, providing a stark contrast to the murky surroundings. Sable approached the window cautiously, her eyes tracing the intricate artwork. Suddenly, a surge of energy coursed through her veins, as if the stained-glass window held a hidden power waiting to be unleashed. She reached out and placed her palm against the cool glass, closing her eyes and allowing herself to be consumed by it. In that moment, the stained-glass window shimmered and pulsed with an otherworldly light. The glass seemed to come alive, swirling and shifting until it transformed into a magnificent sword. It gleamed with a radiant brilliance, its hilt adorned with intricate carvings of mythical

Johnny Sly beamed at her before she left the terrace. “Please, follow me, miss…” the young woman escorted her to the room. They walked inside the house, highly doomed ceiling with paintings of angels fighting with some devils, Elena squinted her eyebrows as she also saw a devil was making love with an angel. ‘The concept of balance in human’s life?’ her thought was exploring the paintings. She also saw the paintings about a dragon, a big snake and a tiger… She inhaled. ‘A philosophical value of eastern…’ What she saw making her feel curious about who Johnny Sly was in a real life.

His normally hidden eye was imprinted with the crest of a snake eating its own tail. Back in Arthur, the party continued to advance deeper into the ruins... TBC - To Be Continued. 😆

--- GREYTECH Private Bunker – Lily’s War Room Far away, in a secure, black-glass chamber of the GREYTECH network, Lily’s team was finalizing preparations. Holographic maps shimmered across the room, casting light over faces set in grim determination. Witches, warlocks, Lycans, and rogue agents—all had answered her call. The insignia of her network gleamed on their armor: silver branches over twin moons, a symbol that had become synonymous with both fear and hope.

She's brought out of her thoughts when Maya starts speaking. Maya: (leaning in) “I was thinking of incorporating elements from the different supernatural cultures we have here at the school. Like, maybe a wolf howling at the moon for the werewolves, and maybe a spell book and some potions for the witches. What do you think?” Charlie: (thoughtfully) “That sounds cool. I had more of an abstract idea. I've been doing a lot of art therapy lately, I've been using colors to represent emotions. I thought it would be cool to do that here. Like red and gold for the happiness and strength wolves feel when they change and can run in their wolf form. And maybe a rich blue and purple to represent the pow

"The answers aren't in your journals. They were buried long before your father was even born." ​Lysander stepped up beside her, his sharp eyes scanning the massive, vivid illustrations. The mural depicted a grand, catastrophic battle from the first age of the world. On the left side stood a massive, midnight-black wolf with eyes of pure, deep obsidian—the ancestor of the Midnight Eclipse. On the right, a towering, lethal Lycan king with eyes of molten gold—the first of the Ashthorne bloodline. But it was the figure at the absolute center of the painting that made Lysander’s breath hitch in his throat.

It was a choke collar disguised as parchment. The classroom glowed with suspended enchantments. Floating scrolls circled overhead, each bearing a realm sigil—Lycandra’s silver moon, Lycan’Dra’s crowned wolf, Valoria’s crystalline spires, Drakonis’s blackened flame, and the serrated green seal of the Wilds. They drifted around like bored little planets, glowing faintly as if reminding us: these are the powers running your life. Professor Eliane’s voice snapped like a blade, her pale hair yanked back so tight it practically buzzed with tension. She tapped her quill against the board, sharp staccato strikes that made the wards hum in response.