Tokyo Ghoul Artwork Novels & Stories

She scrolls through while reading their names. “Bitan… Furuōgi… Rokurokubi… no wait maybe it’s in the other folder.” She says and switches to the other folder to search for it. “Here it is!” she says while comparing the photo of a Tako nyūdō to the tentacle monster that they had encountered. [Author’s Note: Tako nyūdō is an octopus like yokai which is quite similar to the one they encountered… The octopus is a direct translation for Tako. I don’t know what the other thing means to be honest.]

Arth said as he unsheathed his sword. “This will bore me … they’re the weakest beings in the Underworld,” Janshai said, then he dashed forward and caught a few ghouls by his demonic scythe. Their bones disjointed, dropped, and shattered on the dark ground. One ghoul screeched as it charged towards Arth. He used his sword to intercept the ghoul’s claws. “The weakest? Are you kidding me?” Arth muttered a curse, shocked by the strength of the dead corpse. Then he cast an ice sword on his other hand and stabbed it through the ghoul’s skull eyes. The glowing light in its eyes faded as its skeletal body shattered.

“Vampires and Dragonkin don’t usually mingle, but yes I have some in stock.” “We’re special like that.” Milo grinned and chose a seat near the bed where I’d sat down. “What kind of art do you want?” He didn’t make any introductions so I didn’t feel the need to introduce us either. I pulled a sheet from my jacket pocket and handed it to him. I’d already designed it myself but if he was as good as I thought he was then he’d redraw it. “It’s in cuneiform, two names and a black baccara rose with thorns on the stem.”

AXEL'S POV Dracula's war room was something pulled straight from a nightmare tactician's fever dream. The chamber was circular, vast, with walls covered in maps and charts and diagrams that seemed to shift and change when you weren't looking directly at them, like they had minds of their own. The ceiling disappeared into darkness so complete it felt like the void itself was watching us from above. And in the center of it all stood a massive three-dimensional projection—a holographic map of the entire Soul Recycle Program system, each world rendered in perfect detail, floating in space like miniature planets in a twisted solar system.

But he instead saw a card in his hand. I stole a little glance at the card, it wasn't a poker card or some kind of gambling card. Because there's a painting on the card. It's like a black and white sketch painting. Which is some people lying under a rock, moreover they lie naked. In front of them, there were 2 people passing by while looking at them. "What painting is that?" Finally my curiosity overcame all my ego. "This painting is one of the images of the nine parts of hell." I saw a terrible picture of a monster octopus there.

"Struggling to fill your lungs You'll suffocate within this world you hate and There is nothing that you can do" My legs glowed with power as I kicked the Tiger in the face! I summon all the smoke from my other illusion to gather around the Tiger and stayed there. The tiger soon starts suffocating. The Lion and the Jaguar took the opportunity to attack me. The Lion punched my helmet which made me a little disorientated while the Jaguar punches my gut. I fall backward but keep myself standing as I shook my head trying to get myself focused. Fu*k! Now you done it! ( Song: Tokyo Ghoul Asphyxia)

I stood near her clueless. “I don’t know. My hand is stuck.” She pulled her hand but nothing happened. I pulled the cloth down the floor and a grotesque painting welcomed me. The white canvas was filled with random black scribbles and the longer I look, movements became obvious and formed random shapes. Foreign and barbaric words made of dark smoke floated out of the canvas until a summoning circle was created. In the middle was a closed eye circumscribed by an inverted triangle. Gugu’s hand was sucked by a black hole projected by the canvas. Her fingers up to her wrist on the other side turned into a black shadow just like Mark’s appearance in the valley of the dead.

With or without my consent or approval. Sighing, I leaned back into the chair and whipped out my phone. I didn't know what else to say to the driver. And there was this artist I had been viewing his works in the media. He was amazing. Asian portrait artist Kimura Hakira. He had this odd way of tugging at heartstrings with his portraits. I scrolled through his site, viewing the art works he had uploaded when I came across a poster. "No way," I whispered, clicking on the poster. "No freaking way!"

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."

I had no choice, so I dug through every gift Zoe had ever given me, but I found nothing. Just when I was about to give up, I shook a pillow, and a tiny paper figure floated out. Its face was drawn to resemble Lucas, and his birth details were written on the back! The fortune teller exclaimed, “That’s it! The lock and the paper figure work together, and since you've touched the lock, the effect on you is stronger. Luckily, you found it early.” I broke out in a cold sweat. That same day, I slipped the paper figure under Miles’ pillow and instructed my parents to watch him while he slept.