Black Handprint Over Mouth Meaning Novels & Stories

"Spontaneous, remember?" His hand drifted lazily along her arm, down the curve of her hip, over to her tummy, and up to cup one breast with his palm. She gave a breathy little laugh. "Spontaneous, all right. Spontaneous combustion." "Why thank you, sugar." He bit down lightly on her shoulder. "For me, too." "Max?" "Yeah?" He traced lazy circles with his tongue over the spot where he'd taken the little bite. "What are we doing here, anyway?"

Holding his collars were a pair of bulky, muscular hands that had bluish-black veins on them. I followed the black veins that hid in the cave of the hem of the shirt. The shirt was worn by Dominic. He pulled one hand, turned it into a fist, and punched the man. The sound of bones cracking caught me off guard and my heart leaped into my mouth when I saw the man’s face turning into a bloody pulp with Dominic’s hard punches.

The man seemed as if he were genuinely considering his words. He looked at Harvey with dimly glistened eyes. The man coughed hard at his stiff vocal cords. He seemed to have not spoken in a long time. He looked directly at Harvey; this was something that rarely happened. He then stuck out his hand and motioned him to come closer. Three fingernails were missing from the fingers of his outstretched right hand. The blood on his fingers had dried up, which looked eerie and terrifying.

They can ruin nothing. … Drying my hair, I look once again at the photo that laid on the table. A hand and a tattoo. The hand was so pale it looked like if the person was dead. But something in the picture called my attention. The hand was so delicate, beautiful and long nails. The tattoo over the hand had a weird symbol. I turn my head to the side but didn’t get to understand what it was. Deciding to flip the photo, I stop and notice it. A moon mark and something else. Frowning, I get the photo closer to my face.

His white teeth were stained with blood. "How can you joke in this condition?" I smiled at him and bit a chunk of my hand. "Here, feed! It will help trigger and hasten your healing process." I watched him exhale heavily before sinking his fangs into my hand for a minute. Everyone had an ashy face with a print of black smoke from the explosion.

"Shhhhhhh..shut up now or else i'll have to shut you up,you know that i can,right?" I suddenly noticed blood on his hands..i jumped backward.. "Wha..what is it?What happened?Is this blood?" He smiled with malicious glee.. He had that evil smile that betrayes all innocence.. I was somehow afraid of what it might be..i still don't know his intentions towards me.. He pulled me closer and whispered :

“He... was right behind me when I accidentally bumped into him. And when I looked at him, I was shocked. I don’t know how to explain it... but he had this strange kind of handsomeness, something out of the ordinary. It was like there was something eternal and timeless in his face. But the most disturbing thing was the black mark on his forehead. It was so dark, different from the ones I’ve seen before.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but hearing her words only made me more tense. That black mark... anyone who has a black mark like that isn’t just anyone. Usually, people with power or influence have a red mark on their forehead, a sign of their connection to the world’s energy.

“Oh, honey, you don’t know me, but I know you like the back of my hand.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, the metallic tang invading my senses. My world began to tilt as nausea crept in, forcing me to place a shaking hand over my stomach for comfort. I wouldn't let anything happen to my child. He seemed to relish my distress, his lips curling into a sadistic smile as he stepped closer. The light caught his face, illuminating a scar that ran across his dark eye, giving him a rugged, menacing look. But that wasn’t what made my stomach plummet. It was the tattoo on his arm.

She sniffled and wiped her tears with the hand of his sleeves. “ Ah, I almost forgot. My mate is too distracting” He joked and she smiled at him waiting for what he had to say. He brought his left hand to his mouth, his fangs were out already and his eyes switched to the normal haunting red that Diana was used to seeing in her dream. He bit down on his hand which started bleeding and offered it to her mouth.

RAVEN The water in the basin was steaming, but it didn't feel hot enough. I sat on the edge of the bathtub in our quarters, my shirt discarded on the floor. Dominic stood behind me, his hands trembling as he dipped a soft white cloth into the water. Every time the cloth touched the skin of my throat, I flinched. It wasn't just because of the soreness. It was because the marks weren't purple or red. They were black. Five long, thin finger-prints were etched into my skin like ink soaking into parchment. No matter how hard Dominic rubbed, the color didn't fade. It had become a brand.