Wounded Angel Painting Novels & Stories

I tell him lightly and I put my hand lightly in his hand and I see him with one hand lifting the handcuffs and with the other he bandages the wounds on my hand with the rags he got. I look at the hand with which he holds the handcuffs and I see burns appear on his fingers but he does not sketch any gesture. In a few minutes all the burns around my hand are bandaged and the silver is no longer in direct contact with the skin. I already feel the healing process begin. Christian lets go of my hand and places it carefully on my lap and tries to get up, but without realizing it, Angel takes control of me and grabs his hand, tagging him towards me.

I let him be, I get why he’s pissed. Once I’m done washing my Angel, I pick her up and leave the tub. I put her on the mat, taking a big towel and gently drying her off, careful of her wound that is still healing. The mate bond will help it heal faster, but it’ll still take a while and leave a scar, unfortunately.

Rachel said and took a step backwards as if I burnt her. "Her words got to me, Chel" I said while looking at the ground. "When you already fucking know that she will try to make you feel like shit, then why do you go?" She sneered in anger. "You're cutting yourself! Do you realize how sick it sounds?" she said and I could see her eyes becoming watery. "I don't wanna lose you like this, Angel!" she sobbed and I wrapped my arms around her. Ally hugged both of us.

The vulgar names and crude drawings scratched into the wood of the desk make me sigh tiredly. Several of the drawings are of an angel getting her wings chopped off by a sword or axe, her hands chained in front of her. I know it’s supposed to be me, but the idiots seem to think that wings are still removed the same way they were 100 years ago. They used to use a sword or axe, but now they surgically remove them so that nothing remains but the stitches. The problem is, the area doesn't heal very well at all. Even after almost ten years, mine are still tender and sting and ache if I put too much pressure on them. I am taken out of my thoughts when a pencil hits me in the head.

AUDREY The painting displayed in the living room was already glorious, but obviously, Gabriel kept the finest ones in one place in this room. He took my hand and drew me to the wall at the left, and presented me with the enormous painting of an angel. And it wasn’t any regular painting of an angel with wings. Its body was male with the face of a female, and it was nude but with no genitals. But that wasn’t what made the artwork brilliant. The angel’s wings had two shades of black and white and spread up above.

However, few were still staring. The crowd included teens; boys and girls, of my age and few seemed a little older than me but not younger than me. I had millions of questions in my mind and was waiting badly to let them out. At first I thought that it all might be a dream but no. A dream could not be this real and neither one could feel so much pain from the wounds inflicted. Coming to think of the wounds, every kid here was wearing bandages. Some on their arms, on their foreheads, legs and eyes. Every individual was having some. Why were they all like this, wounded? I thought to myself.

Ouch,” she cried out, holding her arm. Sharp pains shot through her right arm which had made its second hurtful contact with the floor that day. She didn’t have time to think because she was immediately dragged harshly off the floor by the man she fell with, who had already stood, still looking murderous. “Who the f**k do you think you are,” he spat angrily. She cringed at his raised voice, then began trying to free her left arm. “Let go of me, you bastard!”

She quickly ran over and looked at my wound. The wound on my back was really torn due to my sudden movement. I could feel the slimy liquid on my white T-shirt. White T-shirt? Why do I wear it? Who changed my clothes? So they found my tattoo? Every Angel organization hunter must have angel wings tattooed on their body; I am no exception; my tattoo is on the left side of my waist. While I was in a daze, the blonde girl came to my side and was about to lift my T-shirt. I instinctively pushed her hand away in surprise.

She whimpered loudly in pain. There was no strength in her body. She couldn't control her body. Her back faced him and Neil lifted a sharp knife and he pierced her white milk-ish skin off her back. Aashmaan screamed painfully that her throat choked due to extreme pain as NEIL wrote, "NEIL's Angel" on the back of her spine. Her body was covered in blood. Everywhere was red and only red. Bedsheet, ANGEL's back, and DEVIL's hands weren't the only things that were covered in blood.

Chu Xun said. "Good." the elderly Winged responded. As he turned over his hand, a square map that seemed to be made with animal skin appeared in his palm. It was shining, and patterns of mountains and rivers could be seen on it. "This is Reality Painting, a treasure of our tribe. The terrain in it isn't complex, and the hills and ravines are real. How about we have a fight in this painting?" the elderly Winged suggested with a proud expression. Few knew about this precious painting. Inside was a self-contained world, entered which, one would be trapped there until his death.