Suspense Drawing 소설 & 이야기

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.

*Is she going to tell everyone there’s more witches here,* I thought at Susie. She nodded and whispered, “I hope so! Some of my drawings are now in real life, and down there.”

I tell her with a sigh. "Oh, okay, fine!" She said with a roll of her eyes and went back inside my mind. I was sitting down when I picked up my bag off the floor and got out my art supplies and drawing pad. I started drawing and painting on the pad. After half hour... I was in the middle of the last tree I was drawing when I heard someone shut the door. I whipped my head back, and I stood up. I looked over at the door. I felt goosebumps running up my body. I felt my heart beating fast, and I felt my chest heavy. But, I saw a dark shadow by the door.

Miranda squatted down to hug the little fellow, "Darling, did you finish your drawing? Brian nodded affirmatively. "What did you draw? Can I look at it?" Brian immediately passed the drawing to her to have a look at. The moment she saw it, her eyes teared up. As usual, she was the subject of the drawing. The colors used in the painting were vibrant and dream-like. She was lying on a small bed, holding a storybook in hand. However, Brian had drawn it from his perspective, when he was lying by her side and watching her from below.

I didn’t remember drawing it at all. “Wow, that’s dark,” she said. “But the beauty in it is so overwhelming. What inspired you to draw that?” I shook my head. “I wish I knew,” I replied. “I just let my mind take the lead on it and I guess it’s darker than even I knew.” The drawing was of a faceless boy with shadows surrounding him as they pulled him in all directions while he covered his face. His body was covered in writing but I couldn’t make out what the writing was exactly.

She also had that sweet smile that melted your anger at her away when she decided to be ‘bitchy’ as Patrick called it. Captain Lassair had no clue whatsoever to who had actually strangulated Raina Drew and left her dead in an alley. Matt had thundered down to the Central Police Station severally only to be given a blank stare and ‘I’m terribly sorry but we have no new leads’. According to him, the job had been a clean one as the killer left nothing on her even fingerprints. The note left on her reading ‘YOU DESERVED IT, BITCH’ threw shivers down his skin when forensic analysis proved the rusty ink used to write it to be blood. It was a type O+. Matt on a sudden whim stood up from his table,

He was already used to the weirdness. --- Later that night, he sat at his desk, sketching. He'd found an old charcoal pencil buried in the drawer earlier. Looked untouched, like it had been waiting. He didn't question it. The lines came easy tonight. Curved strokes, soft shading, something…familiar. Halfway through, he realized what he was drawing: A hand. Slender. Resting palm up, reaching. Not begging. Inviting. He stared at it. The pencil slipped.

But that wasn’t what he was drawing today. There was a picture of two girls—rendered crudely in crayon, but still identifiable as girls. One of them had short blond hair and the other had long brown braids. Their hands were on their faces and their mouths open in screams. David had drawn these as big black circles. A huge black shadow hovered before them, a shapeless body with red eyes and clearly defined hands. The hands looked like long silver knives. There were many drawings before this one. Lauren wondered how long David had been at it.

Bernice decided to occupy her mind by sketching, grabbing a canvas and pencil. As the graphite danced on the canvas, a face took shape. Moments later, the image that stared back at her shocked her to her core. Something about the woman she had glimpsed while eavesdropping on her mother's conversation haunted her. Intrigued and a bit unnerved, Bernice picked up a finished drawing of herself from another part of the room. Her disbelief was profound; the resemblance was uncanny.

He was the only one who knew about the drawing and where I had hidden it. As much as it sounded absurd that he could give away his own naked drawing just like that, he was the second suspect in my mind. “Do you mean you were not the one who sent the drawing to me?” She asked as she sat down on her chair. I shook my head. “No, I was not the one. You know that I never sent my drawings through the mail before. And how did you even sell it so fast?” She sighed. “Well, do you remember the client I told you liked your drawings? I called him to come and see the drawing after you sent it to me, and he liked it and bought it.”