Soul Eater Artwork Novels & Stories

I put aside the tingling feeling in my body, which I got at the thought of my spleen being displayed on the wall as if it was at an auction. 10 $ ! Going once ! Going twice ! Oops , no one decided to buy it, the victim died for nothing. I cringe internally at the mental picture. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘command’ and I’m not entirely sure what you mean by dimensional portal.” For all I know, it could be ghetto talk. “Take a wild guess.” He drawls out, waving his hand in front of my face. I gulp as I see the fingernails being sliced through by claws. I hadn’t imagined it. It was real.

He sang, clothed in embellished robe, holding a shimmering long sword with the letter ‘E’ blaze on it and in the other holding a decanter filled with the mixture of glowing honey and soaked egg in it. “Earlier I saw two of the Divine Humanes fighting those bounty hunters and it was magical, on the other hand not threatening enough.” Said a middle-aged male having a grandiose and a muscled body, with his brown dreadlocks packed upward, balbo bearded, dressed in fur clothing only covering the lower part of his body with the letter ‘G’ scared vividly on his brown-skinned muscled back.

Each one pulsed with a soft light, waiting for its master. "How about this one?" Soren grabbed the smallest, dullest stone. "It suits your current station." "It's perfect," I nodded. He stared, clearly thrown off by my compliance. "And these," his voice grew more vicious. "A Soul Shroud, a Spirit Totem, an Eternal Portrait. If you're going to put on a show, might as well go all out!" "Fine." "You..." he glared at me. "What the hell is your game?"

“Pull! Now! Or it’s gone!” Avery gritted their teeth, digging deep. They visualized the soul’s light, imagined it as something human, something alive and begging not to be lost. They yanked, tugging with every ounce of strength they could muster. The threads flared, wrapping the soul tighter, drawing it toward them. For a moment, hope. The soul’s chaotic form began to solidify, glowing steadily, as if recognizing Avery’s pull. Victory seemed close, so close they could taste it.

Only if I had known my soul would have been sold for nothing, I would have ended it. The room hadn't changed a bit all these years. Same dark walls that made the room intimidating and the absolute perfection in the way it was organized just as its owner, hiding all that evil just barely underneath the surface, simmering and waiting for the perfect time to strike its prey. I repressed a shudder and took a seat waiting for him to notice my presence in the room. He was writing in a journal on the desk, I had always wondered what he wrote in there, the number of people he killed, or the latest mission he accomplished?

''Eros said, ''Yes, we are fine why are you out of your room? ''Bear said, Bear open the coffin to see if it was Eros and it was they were talking for a min and Bear let his lust overtake him and Kissed Eros. They were having a sexual relationship but it was all illusion Eros was never in the room. Instead Bear was having sex with a monster Soul feeder. The soul collector is similar but the soul feeder can only take a soul that is meant to go to hell. But the Soul feeder can eat any soul but they have to be tempted by the 7 deadly sin. Bear step out the coffin to have sex with Eros a that when he was eating by the soul feeder. Bear screams loud but not one else heard it being of the earplugs

Barters, he, the souls to the walking dead, for a life longer, for the power greater. – Bloodsongs ~~~ (Art) They were in the vineyard, and Aurora was eating grapes. Art looked at her with a smile, and he tried to concentrate on what she said, what she talked about. But it was too difficult to achieve when she talked a mile per minute. So he just watched her smile, her contented sigh, and her eyes that could swallow him whole and then those lips that move like a magic.

I hadn't given the imprisoned figure any eyes; instead, I had viciously gouged out two pitch-black, bottomless bloody holes with my charcoal pencil. The massive, sickening smears of dead black charcoal only amplified the macabre atmosphere of the entire piece. That wasn't art. That was my soul screaming in agony, and it would make anyone's blood run cold to look at it. "Oh my god, what a disgusting and twisted piece... How mentally deranged do you have to be to draw something like that?" Cruel whispers erupted all around me. "Is there something seriously wrong with her head? No wonder she never talks to anyone."

There are little violet-black flies on their skin on my wet easel. Night settles into the city like a nesting cat. Hours pass, the rotten harvest painting is finished, and Sam yawns, rousing me from my reverie. I blink, considering the canvas. A photorealistic rendition of the still life dries before me. That, besides the gangrene of the fruit. He whistles low. “Nice. I'm hanging that in my office, if you'll allow me. Very morbid. Kind of like my soul?” I set to cleaning my brushes in the kitchen. “Whatever, your soul is more just a black hole,” I call. My stomach turns in hunger. “Ugh. I'm starving!”

"It's rare to see arcane implements like this. That explains how Sylas grew so powerful so fast. The talisman probably caused your severe injuries." Homer sighed. "At first, we were evenly matched. Then he did something I didn't expect. He sensed that the men he had dispatched to the York residence had been taken out. In a rage, he unleashed his ultimate move—Soul-Eater Manifestation. He said he prepared it for you originally." Aria's hand froze. Sylas might be behind both the Soul-Eater Manifestation and the Wailing March. Back in Portfall, she had encountered someone who used the Wailing March on her. The effect was instantaneous—the sound was that of infinite spirits crying out in despair