He loved the sight on bright red blood on the emerald green grass. Maybe it was the artist in him that loved the way they neutralized each other.
He would take out his easel, paints and sun block and set it up right next to the blood.
He loved painting them. People would by his art work, not knowing how much effort he put into it, or how much the model gave.
Oh how he loved the sight of blood on grass and the models pale hand next to it all.
YOU ARE READING
Story ideas that you won't steal
RandomAll of the random story ideas I come up with that I don't have time to write. Also some really random story beginnings ... Also, these story things are in no way related to each other. Please don't copy. Oh, and one more thing before you roll your e...