Bulk And Skull Novels & Stories

“ As you can see from the scale bar I have placed by the skull, it is much larger than a normal skull, I looked around for a skull of comparable size from various archaeological digs from the 1960’s onwards and I have I didn’t find anything that was anywhere near the size of this one. Usually, adult male skulls are larger than females but this is the biggest I have ever come across, however, the lack of brow ridges tells me that this is skull belonged to a female rather than a male. Next we go to the femur, once again, this bone is extremely large in comparison to others I have seen.” Sarah flicked over to a photo of the femur, “It measures just over twenty and a half inches, which would mak

(Sasu) Nudging at the Alehandro that were sticking close to him with his elbow, it's true that the skeleton has never really damaged the corpse the dragged. But since now the corpse have a living being inside, although the corpse already dead but they ho hid inside of it were very much alive. After much deliberation, this boar monster were chosen due to it's large build and also it's thick hide and meat, it would be able to provide them with a protective layer in case the undead skeleton decided to break the patterns.

The movement of the bone skull stopped almost at the height of human growth - above the place where Vic himself had stood a moment ago. - Farewell, brother, - the blades in the hands of Yarsi silently cut the vertebrae of the neck lowered down. The skull hit the ground, hitting its jaws, tumbled on its side, and began to paint in pieces. Simultaneously with a loud thud, the entire skeleton collapsed.

Undead had terrible naming sense. It seems that it wasn’t just their lives that had been lost when they died. Just like Muscles was a direct expression of his name, Slender was also an exact definition of his name. His prominent clavicular and rib bones as well as his overtly expressed zygomatic bone and temporalis muscle were enough to show that he was wasted. While he was tall, he was as slim as a broom and would have been mistaken for a terminally ill man if he wasn’t already dead. Standing with Muscles, they drew such a stark contrast between themselves that it was almost comical; however, the Undead with them didn’t think so.

She fell to her knees gasping in pain. The giant did not look at her. It did not have eyes to turn. Its skull was a block of unpolished gray granite crudely chiseled into the shape of an old king's crown. Two narrow slits had been cut across the stone where the brows should have been. Through those gaps a dull unblinking purple fire flared and faded in time with the turning of the basalt cylinder in its chest.

Human bones, weathered by time and the relentless flow of water, intertwine with the skulls, creating a haunting display of mortality. The ethereal glow from the waysticks casts shadows upon the skeletal structures, illuminating the intricate details of the bones. Delicate features of the skulls become visible, their curves and contours accentuated by the soft light. The translucent layer of calcium, formed from the presence of limestone fragments packed between bone and stone, overlays the skulls and bones, creating a patchwork effect. In some places, the layer appears frosted, obscuring certain details, while in other areas, it is more transparent, emphasizing the eerie beauty of the skele

“A poor joke, I know.” He carefully lifted the skull in both hands and turned it so it faced Leesa. “Take a look,” he said as he gently set it back down on the cloth. It took a few seconds before Leesa realized what she was looking at. The skull appeared normal in all respects except one, but that one was enough to pull a sharp gasp from her throat. Jutting down from the upper teeth were two sharp, curved fangs! “Oh my god!” she exclaimed, her eyes fixed on the pointed teeth. “Is that what I think it is?” Professor Clerval smiled. “Yes, it is. I believe this is a genuine vampire skull.”

It is when Brandon reaches Alcina, that he realizes just how wrong everything in the space truly is. For Alcina is looking down at something. Something large, something that reaches the height of Alcina’s torso; something that, for a moment, Brandon cannot quite ascertain, in the shadowy darkness of the ruins of a fortress long abandoned. Brow furrowing, Brandon steps closer. And as his eyes adjust to the darkness by shades, he, too, stills. It is. It is a skull. But not a human skull; nor that of animal creature known to most of man.

When he emerged, his face was ashen. In his hands, he carried something wrapped in rotting velvet something that caught the green light and threw it back in dull, bone-white reflections. He set it on the examination table beside me. His hands were shaking. The velvet fell away. It was a skull. Human. Male. Ancient, by the yellowing of the bone. But what made my heart stop wasn't its age, like it was the crack running from temple to jaw, and the single word carved into the forehead in jagged, deliberate strokes:

Holy cow. Venice’s mother slowly turns, showing me a side of her face and had my mouth not been gagged by the hair, I would have cried out. Grinning at me from one side of the woman’s face is a skull. Not an old skull, not a skull that had been abandoned in sandy desert for centuries, but a fresh skull, white and moist, a fresh victim of unspeakable crimes. It is as if Venice’s mother’s head had just been picked clean by a swarm of maggots.