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The demons in his paintings [Completed]

🇦🇨Miraharlson
13
Completed
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Synopsis
Manuel is the best painter in his town, possibly the world. His paintings were so magical it left him scared. But his father did not want him to paint. The thought of Manuel painting caused shivers to run down his fathers spine. He would scream the same phrase at him over and over again while hitting him. "We told you not to paint." It became a chant.
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1

Manuel lived in a small community. There were not many things you could do other than sell and buy. The market was small and people owned very small shops. There were no cars or bikes or even horses, so everyone walked.

Neighbors loved each other and they were very friendly with one another. The only Church they had in the community was the chapel at that end of the town.

The community was a backwards one and there wasn't much anyone could do about it. There were no Industries or companies or even tall buildings.

Manuel was the first son of the village head, called the mayor. He was 16 and he had just finished highschool although he opted to stay home for a year before he heads to college.

His father had been so angry he had shouted at him for a week but when he saw that Manuel would not bulge he let him be. But that was after making Manuel promise that he would stop painting.

His father anytime he saw Manuel painting will bellow and say. "We told you not to paint."

Manuel found this odd but he didn't dwell on it. He however never stopped painting because he just couldn't. Manuel painted only when he was on a trance.

What scared him was not that he went on a trance or that his paintings were scary. What scared him was that his paintings disappeared at night and a new canvass appeared in its place. He thought it was his Father doing it, so he never asked.

Manuel has been painting since he was two, he started with crayons, then pencils and now paints. His paints were priceless , they were magical, they were simply not of this world.

When the treats from his father grew more bitter and dangerous he withdrew a little from painting. It was hard for him because he had no friends except his brush.