Voldemort Book Design Novels & Stories

He followed the spines with his fingers and then moved his hands over the masterfully decorated covers with unfamiliar symbols drawn on them. Oliver pulled out one which had a a golden dragon drawn on the black covers. He examined the illustrations inside with interest. He'd never seen anything like this before. He heard the door open and saw Liam. The Lord closed carefully behind him and leaned on the tapestry-covered wall. Oliver returned the book quickly back in its place, but Liam said. "No, you can take it, although I can't say if it's a good one. I can only advise on the German ones."

Lord Voldemort ordered with an evil smirk plastered on his lips as he made his way to his enormous throne. "Yes my lord."

His eyes snapped open and he found himself still leaned over her throat, ready to be claimed and yet his Wolf prevented him from doing so. He cleared his throat as he pulled himself away and straightened his posture, "Right. Let's get to work then." He grabbed the doorknob behind her and went into her room before she could stop him. Once he entered, he was met with an odd odor he wasn't familiar with, but the scent of death was evident in the air. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dimly lit space and was taken aback by what he saw. A black curtain shaded her room from the outside, keeping in the dim glow of her candles that were scattered across her room. Books, both closed and open laid abou

Angela’s high pitched voice hit everyone’s ear like a bomb. They came out of their boring searching and rushed to her side. Miles was happy she found it and gave her a quick peck. Her cheeks flushed with red. She was nervous and surprised. That was the last thing she expected from him. Maybe she needed to start finding more things. Justin took the book, heading for the table. He placed it on it, flipping the book open to the first page. The cover of the book was a beautiful looking woman, holding a wand the color of cinnamon with a golden persimmon placed at the top of it.

Out of all the books he had organized, it was the only one that didn't look so worn out. Near... SKALLIET I'M GOING TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL... Its large uppercase letters occupied a significant part of the book, its red color appearing beneath some spaces of the burnt and withered rose, arousing curiosity just like its name.

My eyes slowly moved to spot the velvet-covered book and something written on it with golden ink that shined in the light coming through the open window. Despite thinking to ignore it at first, I found myself walking towards it a few moments later. Something about leaving this book without looking through it did not feel right to me, it just made me feel some sort of anxiousness I was not ready to deal with. I walked closer to the book and picked it up. On the blood-red colored cover of the book, there remained written in bold golden letters— Predators. The confusion took over whilst I looked at the name, my fingertips brushed on the velvet feeling the smoothness of it, and then I slowly ope

But due to the old age, the part of the leather had turned dusty, causing it to crack and peel off. Rose who was handed the book slowly opened the book that made a slight cracking noise. She stared at the old yellow pages, opening it to find that the book had not only been hand written but also had drawn. There was a vampire in the first page, drawn by hand, their figure, features, and even the maliciousness was exactly the same as what she had seen before. It made her curious of the other beings drawn there, finding skeletons that could move and act on their own, animals that were dead but would fight upon a magic casted by the sorcerer.

Instead, they bled harder and thicker, flooding the floor until it reached their ankles. A loud crash echoed behind them. Another book had fallen, heavy as a coffin. This one spilled fire instead of blood. Golden flames flowed from its pages, spreading across the shelves and casting an eerie glow throughout the aisle. Camela turned around, as her heart raced. “What…what is that one?” she asked. Vincent’s face went pale, and his fire flickered. “It’s mine,” he replied. The book opened with a sharp crack, and its pages bled with his essence: his fire, his chains, and the smile he wore when he pulled her into the hall…with the threads he had wrapped around her wrists.

The liquid inside gleamed, too viscous to be wine. A massive couch rested against the far wall, carved with intertwining shapes that looked floral. Until the flickering light revealed the truth. Skulls, serpents, and curling thorns wound through the design, stretching and turning like they were alive. The cushions gleamed as if slick, absorbing the unnatural glow in a way that made them look wet, freshly stained. As she stepped forward, she stared at the towering shelves that loomed along the walls, crammed with books bound in cracked leather and strange tools. Jars of unknown murky substances swirled, while others stayed still as death. There was no dust, no disorder.

I went to the inner room to check for a book that could be of help at all. In the dim light of the library hall, I wandered through the aisles, my fingers trailing along different volumes of books. The air was thick with the scent of dusty and old paper. As I turned a corner, an old, leather-bound book caught my eye. Its name cover was wrapped with strange design that seemed to shimmer faintly from the rest. It was the eyes of the rarest species of werewolves...... The white wolves. Curiosity got the better of me, I pulled the book from the shelf and opened it.