Vampire Painter Novels & Stories

She wondered in the hallway, there was no trace of Vlad. She stopped by huge painting, she couldn't understand what is it. For her it's just colors. "It's a blood!" She flinched, getting caught off-guard By Ivan, Vladimir's Brother. "What?" She frowned. She can't even imagine that a painting which is coloured with blood is hanging openly in this mansion. What kind of sadist people stays here. He chuckled mischievously. "Just kidding... It's painted by my father, he is such an artist... The only thing he is an expert in, except having affairs with multiple women at the same time."

Dante put up his hands to show he had nothing. "No, I'm not. I'd be an idiot for showing up to the crime scene if I had done this." He said before walking over to the couch and knelt beside it. "Who are you then and what are you doing here?" She asked him, her hands shaking as she attempted to dial. "I'm a Vampire. I came here to make sure it wasn't my kind that did this." He lied somewhat. It's true that he should look into this in case another Vampire had caused this mess, but he doubted it.

*Centuries ago, a time where Vampires, sphinx and werewolves lived together in peace, love and harmony, until evil covered the cloud of Transylvania* My name is Luther, I'm a vampire from the old world, I am over 400 years old, I lived in Transylvania, my father was the over Lord (Dracula) my mom was a werewolf (Tania) from Romania (another city where werewolves and other creatures live) but died 200 years after my younger sisters' birth, her name is Annabelle, she is 300 years old, I was to be dad's successor but everything changed when my father was killed, it was the day of my inauguration, we were ambushed by our own people, sects of disloyal elves and Sphinx, and it all turned out to b

*writer's POV* In a large hall. The throne room, sat king Oscar on a throne made of golden materials and cushion covered with red leather material. He opened his eye, which were red in colour and soon changed to greenish blue. He is a tall man about 6ft, with brownish white hair and about his 50s as humans may think but in his 580s. He is a vampire,not just a vampire but the king of a clan. The savato vampire clan. He was just disturbed as he heard the chief guard approaching swiftly.

When they were quite a distance away,he stopped for her to catch her breath. "Are you alright?" he asked She nodded "Are those vampires?" "Yes" he answered "They're the rogues" "Rogues? They're different from the vampires?" "Yes.The rogues are less powerful.The vampires are mostly kings,queens,people of higher authority" they moved through the woods "They have ranks too.Half bloods,ancient vampires." "The ones that attacked us in the last full moon?" "Those are the vampires and some of the rogues" he replied

Then, turning towards a fallen Hailey, I asked, "Is this some of your new tricks to separate me and Daniel? Because trust me they aren't working." "Don't trust me then. But, will you deny what you see with your own eyes? You won't. Right? Daniel is a vampire. Not just any vampire. He's the Vampire King of Eleneas. I saw it with my own eyes!" Hailey's words just made me narrow my eyes at the game she and her brother were playing to separate me and Daniel.

Some contorted their bodies, and some were having fun by drinking and laughing out loud; some even winked at Vincent. "Oh, I'm thirsty," he muttered without realizing he wanted blood as he did in the hospital. Vincent presently dismissed his thirst. He must remember that his mission is to find the policeman. Vincent went upstairs to follow his target. After a few moments, he looked right and left, and Vincent found a room full of vampires. The intended party sucks blood from a victim, who receives the exact card he is holding. The screams of pain from the victims couldn't get out after entering the room. It drove such a horror. Vincent only stood there, stunned, watching the cruelty unfold.

I lifted my chin and tried not to fall apart. I crouched here and there to caress the faces of people I knew and cared about. Their bodies were limp, and their eyes were without the spark of life. There were blades frozen in the air, ready to deal a fatal blow—eyes black with a blood rage that scorched men’s souls. Werewolves gripped, ready to be crushed and discarded like trash. Vampires were in the midst of being torn apart by powerful jaws. It was troubling to look at the destruction on the battlefield.

I whispered when my eyes laid at the portrait of a vampire, and a blood-pet. The vampire had protruding fangs which were sunk all the way into the victim’s neck, draining him every single drop of blood. I looked up at her and flipped another page, only to find yet another unnerving portrait. “All these…” “Yes. All of them are true. They existed. And they still do!”

They also brighten up the hair and the lips and really compliment the rest of her face. By then she excitedly began to chatter exuberantly about her collection. "I got excited because the painting behind you was made by Death. A mysterious artist who paints crime arts. And that painting ..." Sumire pointed at the painting behind the young man. She was still sitting on his lap while her left hand was resting on the man's chest and her right hand was pointing at the painting. Mr. Aslanov was leaned against on the backrest of the swivel chair and he tightened his grip on the maiden's waist so that she may not fall over on the side when she recklessly moved on top of him. "... is called the "Vul