Vampire Painter Novels & Stories

He bows to her. “If you have vampires in your group, why do you need blood from us?” Talvin’s question makes perfect sense. “They are not pure-blooded. We need blood from a pure-blooded vampire.” “So, human turned will not be a good choice?” I question. “They will become full vampires once they change. Their DNA changes when they do; that is not the same for us. Our kind masks any form of vampire DNA within their systems. This causes them to lose blood faster and grow weaker faster. I understand if this is not something you wish to do. Either way, we will make sure the path is cleared for your departure whenever you decide to go. You will not see us or sense us as you take your leave or retu

David Winston was the first Vampire king who won ten kingdoms after defeating the Dragon king Marcus III and the werewolf king Pyrus, the blood hunter. Elsa read a lot about their journey when she came across a picture that had written about a night creature's consummation. It was such an awful picture. Elsa averted her eyes and slid her fingers to the other page because she didn't want to read it, and the little knowledge her maids gave was enough to understand what was on this page. “Don't,” a cold voice whispered and made Elsa jerk up in the seat with a scream, “O My god! “Shh! Your husband,” Gabriel laugh near her ears and held her in place.

But before he could complete his sentence, his eyes widened in horror. Dabria had stabbed his dark soul with the dagger of Eve. Dabria pulled the dagger out and stepped away from him. Dark flames engulfed Adrian's dark soul. His horrified screams shook the Karts pack lands. "You forgot again that I am not just a vampire. I am a reaper vampire hybrid. And as a reaper, I can kill you with whatever weapon I possess." Dabria finally answered the question Adrian asked her right before his soul was completely burnt.

No, Baba, please, Baba, don't do this to me, I am your daughter too, please, Baba. ****** Name of King Elam in Vampire Word ... People trembled with fear because of the headlines in his eyes all the time, which made him even more frightening. His silence was mysterious. Everything was done at his beck and call. People were amazed at his appearance. He was unparalleled in beauty. Girls were just toys for him. She was a very beautiful and delicate girl. She was barely seventeen years old. Her resistance had given him a strange relief. He called the guard inside through the intercom. Who was now waiting for the order with his head bowed?

"We've been tryi--" "Victoria," the woman interrupted, her voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade. Visenya was taken aback by the sudden interruption, but it gave her an opportunity to truly see the woman before her. Despite her malnourished appearance, Victoria possessed a striking beauty. Her long, straight black hair cascaded down her back, a stark contrast against her pale, porcelain skin. And those eyes, a deep crimson hue, unmistakably marked her as a vampire. The intensity of her gaze revealed a profound hatred, yet it also allowed Visenya to confirm her vampire lineage.

But was he strong enough to dent two motorcycles with only his hands? I felt like this research was starting to drive me crazy. I could hardly wrap my mind around all the stories I’ve been reading. Most of the pictures were similar to one another with the same wounds on their necks and pale white as the clouds. It was like whoever had done this had drained these people of every last drop of blood. Opening a new document, I began writing a new short story. A story about a charming vampire seducing a young girl. In the end, the girl becomes a vampire and began “hunting” in the city with the male protagonist.

His limbs were ripped from their sockets, torn apart piece by piece. “Ah,” I let out a sharp gasp watching the gruesome sight and then realizing it was no different from what Rowan wanted to do. This scene would be a ghastly feast for any vampire, a sight that was capable of satisfying their darkest and most depraved desires - blood. And yet, this was exactly the kind of slaughter that Rowan had been craving. “Are you alright?” Alpha Axel asked me suddenly, his eyes scanning my face. “Y-yes. I am,” came my reply, with an affirmative nod.

Isabella whispered, her voice a jagged rasp. "The heavens do not care for 'supposed to,' my lady." Isabella spun around, her crystalline claws—remnants of her vampire transition—extending instinctively. Standing in the darkness of the archway was a figure that seemed to absorb the violet light. He was gaunt, his skin the color of damp parchment, and his eyes were two flat, milky orbs. He was a Dealer of the Black-Sun Sect, a group of mercenaries who specialized in the "Unmaking" of supernatural icons.

We went by a couple of rooms, then the living room, the fireplace, treasure room and yes, he even showed me just how many bathrooms can fit an entire house packed with werewolves can possibly have, which was thoughtful enough for him. And then we found ourselves standing in a large room surrounded by an abundance of paintings. For a moment I was astonished at how these art pieces were crafted exquisitely and with finesse. I couldn't quite take my eyes off one of the paintings of a partially naked woman, and a nightshade black wolf both covered with blood lying lifeless on the ground. Everything about it somehow brought out the sorrow in me, allowing me to symphatize with whoever the painter

He took a step back and she landed on the bare floor. "I doubt you know who I am," he spoke without fear. She laughed maniacally, "we, the condemned, have neither fear of the gods nor of man. Tell me, who are you?" He smiled, "I am no man. I am Sebastian Deusdedit, lord of the vampires." She seemed a bit shocked for an instant then her eyes glowed even more. "Even more lovely," she licked blood red lips, "your heart will give us even more power than we have ever had and we will conquer the villages and rip their heart to shreds."