Tokyo Ghoul Artwork Novels & Stories

Making Takeshi gaze move towards the hand of the body his reopened wound on his wrist. “Why can’t I just take that pretty tongue hush it will look so beautiful for my new artwork” Ryuu watches the smile fades off from the face of Takeshi. From the coner of the eyes, the boy looks over the sculptures over the coner of the room with the different shapes and sizes. Some of which was the head of the women smoking, the one hand holding the glass of pen, or the fingers in the shape of the house, eyes nose, legs running and etc.

My eyes scan the portraits one by one, trying to find inspiration, when my eye travels to a corner I rarely venture to look at. I swallow. My eyes lock on the all-black painting. The only color is a pair of red glowing eyes. This. This image is of my nightmares. I was plagued for years with this image. I haven't thought of it in so long. A shiver shoots up my spine as I break my eye lock and return to my blank canvas. **** I painted for a bit, but decided I needed to ground myself a bit more. I head downtown to a little neighborhood I like to call Hallow Glen. I don't know why. I just like the way it sounds.

I bent over the dead soldier, my heart heavy as I realized that the same tattoo adorned his neck as well. he design was unlike anything I had seen before, yet there was an unsettling familiarity about it, a memory tugging at the edges of my mind. The tattoo depicted a flying demon, its wings outstretched, eyes aglow with an otherworldly luminescence. The level of detail was astonishing, every line and curve capturing the essence of the creature in a way that was both mesmerizing and disconcerting. The artistry was undeniable, but there was an underlying malevolence that sent shivers down my spine.

“No, it can’t be.” The self-centered guitarist felt a cold, crippling shock run down his spine after seeing the mysterious image. Taylor felt a similar dread. “I saw this image the first time I got Barracuda,” Taylor in awe. The image was a humanoid Kaiju covered in purple and black armor, but with the head of an octopus. “Is that --” “Mason Black,” Soundhound answered before Taylor could finish.

The soul eater sits on the floor, covered in blood and something else that I don't recognize until I open the door further and step in. Looking down, I see a disemboweled baby torn to shreds. It's in so many pieces that I can't even tell for sure what it is, except for the baby bottle half buried in the blood and intestines. Suddenly, the smell hits me and I have to bend over as I lose my supper. Sandwich spraying everywhere, even on the soul eater. She looks up at me and smiles while holding an arm bone and then begins gnawing on it.