Dr Strange Hand Novels & Stories

he said, reaching for my hand. "I'm not going anywhere with you!" I roared and jumped out of bed. He huffed an icy laugh. "Oh, come on. You have to know that you don't stand a chance against me. Just stop resisting." "Never!" I shouted, feeling the force within me buzz and scratch the surface. I stretched my hands in front of me, took a deep breath, and sent the strongest stream of power I could muster. The blinding light burst out of my fingers and hit Drystan's chest. I couldn't see anything until the light faded, and then... I saw Drystan standing almost unharmed with a cold grin spreading across his lips.

The man struggled to pull away and when he couldn't, he cursed and his claws lengthened on his other hand, ready to swing but I held his other hand. And then, to my horror, I, no not me. Dravena. She chuckled and, without hesitation, yanked both of his hands from his body. Blood splattered as she held the severed hands, watching the rogue with excitement. He screamed, falling to the ground, bleeding, staring at what had just been part of his body. And Dravena? She just chuckled louder, tilting her head, running her tongue over her teeth as she hummed. “This is going to be so fun”

she said moving her hand towards his chest pointing at it, then placed it on his chest. Drake suddenly felt something pulling him back, and his vision started to become blurred. He could see her hand on his chest turning into dust, just like how the sand on the desert they are standing on is. He started feeling some pains at some parts of his body, and the pains were uncontrollable. He wanted to hold her tight, in order for her not to leave, but the last words he heard from her was...

It was just that the past three years had made me realize that he no longer was the family I could freely seek affection from. Connor was still looking at me, seemingly waiting for an explanation. But I only lowered my head and replied, "I'm sorry, Mr. Sanders." His frown deepened. He was about to speak up when he caught sight of the still-healing needle marks on my neck. He paused for a moment before reaching out toward me. "What's this?" I instinctively flinched away from Connor's hand. This was something that had never happened before. His hand missed and fell, and his expression darkened instantly. "I'm just trying to look out for you, Wendy, and this is how you're acting?"

The tendril reaching for him recoiled, slow and confused, the way a hand pulls back from a door that has just been closed in its face. "This is inappropriate." His voice was low and final, each word set down like a stone. He turned toward the door. His movements were too precise, too measured, the walk of a man enforcing distance on himself, not choosing it naturally. His horns caught the lab light as he moved, dark and curved, and I had the strange thought that I wanted to know every scar on those hands. That I had no right to want that. That I wanted it anyway. "Vaelor—" Draven's voice had dropped all its playfulness.

It was a few more minutes before she can smell them coming up the path, she smirks and nestles herself down lower, to watch and listen. “Okay, so the drone lost them both.” The drone operator says, “But it found something, which then reached out to you, Boss?” He was Human, and about five-seven, thin but muscular with it, a buzzcut of dark hair, olive skin and brown eyes, clean shaven and a straight nose his thin lips were smirking at the woman he’d called Boss. And he had two prosthetic hands, but the fingers were moving, tapping at a tablet. The Boss sucks her teeth,

he growls, his dark eyes scanning my face. "Just work, Draven. It’s a lot for a first day." I reach for the water glass, but my hand hitches. My fingers are locked in a cramped, aching claw from hours of gripping the jeweler’s pliers and staring through a loupe. Without a word, Draven reaches out and takes my hand. His palms are calloused and huge, but as he begins to rub the tension out of my knuckles, his touch is unexpectedly gentle. It’s intimate shockingly so.

The tip of his ears exposed his emotions. "Do you know who you are talking to?" Hunter gripped Neal's wrist painfully. Neal hissed in pain trying to retreat his hand from Hunter. "Hunter." Drake called and gripped Hunter's tensed shoulder. "Let me." Hunter let go Neal's hand and stepped aside. Drake stepped forward. "You have my chain doctor. Don't you know that you should not keep someone else's belongings in your hand? Give me the chain." He said stretching out his hand. Neal looked at it rubbing his bruised wrist then back to Drake's face. The man looked scarier than others.