Underworld Drawing Novels & Stories

“Your treachery knows no bounds. Please learn to take jokes.” “Treachery? You want to use me as monster chow. And I would never feed you.” “But that BLT was delicious...” he said, forlorn. “Fine. I can do without domestic services. What I do need, however, is something underworlders find appetizing: namely, nubile young women-” “-Nubile? Did you really just say that?-” “-like yourself. You're young, harmless, and easily taken advantage of. You stink of mortality. Underworlders won't be able to resist. I, however, exude power-”

Alexander said in a deep voice, “Got it?” The Underworlders nodded. Despite them being split between wanting the Lady to crown the Dark Lord and wanting to kill the Lady, they all at least agreed on one thing. That no one shall take what is theirs. They were Underworlders. Creatures that hid from the day and basked themselves in darkness. Creatures that did not belong in both Heaven and Hell. They were in the precipice of existing and not existing. But what is theirs shall always be theirs. “The Lady is ours,” Alexander said again.

I light it with my torch and say; "According to this section, there is a tomb below our feet." She looks at the drawing, stunned. Dr. Addison points her flashlight to the floor and then back to the sketches. Not knowing what to say, she walks over to the wall and runs the tips of her finger over it, and says; "It is amazing. What exactly have these people concealed down here?" "I think it is a human or wolf. I am not sure which one is below us." She slowly moves her hand across the image and asks me; "What if it is both? What if it is some hybrid human?"

Taking up almost half of the map was the wide field of the Hallows, in which there was a black spot labeled as Sygnus. Kat didn't realize the Underworld was this huge, let alone this complicated. There were so many channels and roads drawn in ink, crossing borders and intertwining with each other. However, even with all these paths, Byron was still able to sketch out new ones using a strange silver stylus with red ink. He swiped it across the map, labeling something in Hell and making a series of jagged lines leading to Sygnus.

That’s what they say in every horror film before the lead dies. Still… I followed. The air grew cooler as we descended. When she pressed a switch on the wall, soft light filled the space as my eyes widened. The underground room was covered in ancient drawings. Walls filled with creatures — humans, werewolves, vampires, witches, dragons, mermaids, faries and something else I didn’t recognize. One caught my eye — tall, radiant figures with wings spread wide like light. “Angels,” I whispered. Eleanor smiled faintly. “And their kin.”

He smiled, “Go for it, babe. I know you’ll make them awesome.” I started on the basement nursery. I drew a dragon surrounding a howling wolf, with a harvest moon in the background. Then I walked to the first-floor nursery and drew a gold dragon flying with a blue sky and the gold sun in the background. In the second-floor nurseries, I drew the Moon Goddess standing over three wolf cubs in one, I drew the Moon Goddess standing over three baby dragons in another, then I drew the Moon Goddess standing over two sleeping baby dragons and one sleeping wolf cub. Aidinth looked at each of the sketches and said, “Babe, these are amazing! I almost can’t wait to see what they’re going to look like afte

Ryu started, “Which are exclusively from the Underworld itself.” “What do they look like?” I asked. It seems like she’s also listening, even though she’s busing reading on her seat. Well, she deserves to know her current situation, most especially when we’re all standing on death’s door. “U-worldians are creatures of pride. They are mostly comprised of humans, but their skills are no joke. They are ought to exude their bloodlust to their victims as they hide in the shadows.” He paused, “Witnessing their victims shivering in fear is fun for them, and it is their prize. If ever you felt one, don’t hesitate to run, slayer.”

Or maybe he is struggling with the loss of someone close to him, or maybe he has terrible nightmares each night and is looking for an outlet…I’m truly reaching at this point. Perhaps some of these explanations would make perfect sense, if it weren’t for the uneasy feeling in my stomach. The drawings are just so...unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Is Noah really like this? I can’t imagine he would be, from the times I’ve met him, but how could I gauge from those small moments what he is truly like? He’s drawn demon like creatures emerging from a smudge of darkness. Each have eyes void of all feeling, of all mortal like tendencies. Dark hooked claws reach out, almost completely off the page, lik

My mouth goes dry. "That's why the New Order wants him," Torres continues. "They believe that if they can harness his instability—if they can force a full break—they can control what comes through. They can weaponize the Underworld itself. Armies of spirits. Old gods. Whatever they can drag out. And they'll start with him." He opens the folder just enough for me to see the top page: a satellite image of the city. There's a red circle around the university and another circle around the Lakewood estate. There are also lines connecting them.

I unlock the door as quietly as I can. Jonah’s asleep on the couch. He’s too big for it now—his legs hang off the edge, one arm thrown over his face and the other holding onto his inhaler—but he’s curled up under the blanket I bought him last Christmas. His sketchbook’s on the floor next to him, open to a page covered in dark, jagged lines. I kneel down. Look at the drawing. Monsters again. Always monsters. Claws and teeth and too many eyes, things that don’t look human but almost are, things that are breaking apart or putting themselves back together. I can never tell which.