Gargoyle Eyes Human Novels & Stories

Strangely, the wound on my palm suddenly dried up and the scar disappeared. When I realized that, I accidentally saw the man’s eyes glow red. It only lasted for a moment, before they returned to their beautiful caramel brown color. He was… not a human?

It was like a confirmation that Pietro wasn't human, he was a monster whose eyes had the power to manipulate people. My lips parted softly with a soft gasp as I slowly brushed my clit with two fingers through the lacy panties. My body shuddered with a streak of electricity that shot through me. His light brown eyes were intent on mine and my eyes were begging him to break the eye contact and free me from whatever spell he had put me under just by setting his eyes on mine.

Jessi picks up one of the photos, studying it closely. "Look at his eyes." She says, handing me the picture of one of the rogues. It's a close-up of a rogue who happens to be looking at the camera. I look at his eyes and see they don't look right. There seems to be something like a film over them. It almost looks like when a human gets cataracts. I've been looking over this stuff every day, and it takes her five minutes to see something I've missed.

Samael smiled softly, drawing a whetstone from his belt to sharpen his scythe. “There's a reason gargoyles are grotesque, Shannon.” “Why?” I steadied myself on a branch stripped of bark. “To scare away evil spirits.” He rubbed the blade with his robe. It glinted like a crescent moon. “I am vicious but just. The angel of severity.” “And an all-around creeper.”

The crimson liquid was completely absorbed into the gargoyle’s porous form, amplified by demon magic. A complex network of glowing, dark veins began to pulse violently beneath the stone surface, and the gargoyle’s heavy eyelids suddenly snapped wide open. It’s eyes were bloodshot, glowing, and completely menacing. A low, vibrating growl reverberated heavily through the mountain air, serving as both a ancient warning and a dark greeting to it’s threshold.

Its eyes, when they landed on me, shone with an alien intelligence. Gargoyle. I’d read the word a hundred times in the old archives, but nothing prepared me for the reality of it. The thing was power incarnate, built for war and worship. It shook itself, sending a cloud of stone dust into the air. Its gaze landed on me, then James, then the rest of the pack. It did not attack. Instead, it cocked its head, as if waiting for something. The arch behind it kept pulsing, the light growing brighter, and the pain in my chest swelling to a maddening pitch. I clutched at my sternum, fighting to stay upright. Lightning began to form around me, burning my skin in a wild electrical storm.

And some thing more: There on the floor in front of her stood a small gargoyle. Ta-da! he said. He was about a foot tall, crouched low with his hands crossed and his elbows resting on his knees. His pores and skin used to be the coloration of stone--he used to be stone--but when he waved at her, she should see he was limber ample to be made of flesh and muscle. He seemed like the type of statue youd find capping the roof of a Catholic church. His fingernails and toenails have been long and pointed, like little claws. His ears were pointed, too--and pierced with small stone hoops. He had two little hornlike nubs protruding from the top of a brow that was once fleshy and wrinkled. His massive

I heard a whimper of desperation fall from my lips as I closed the distance between the foyer and the gargoyle hunched over the keep, the odd light of its luminescent blue eyes watching me. I could have sworn, as I let out a damning howl, raising my mutt to the cloud-covered moon, that the gargoyle hybrid on the balustrade was almost grinning, the shadow of what I was stunned to realize was its fur hanging like mist above its bulky frame. ”Nola farthing child, this is it,” I squealed, the blood ringing in my ears as I threw myself on my side, sliding under the sharpened teeth of the iron grate and toppling, feet first, into the steep blackness.

A pair of slender and deathly pale fingers swept into short black hair, and bloodshot eyes gazed down with a maniacal glint in them. For a moment….. Just for a moment Gentry could have sworn he saw the human-like creature tilt it's lips into a wolfish smirk.

It was really so little time he was gone, but he was nearly a shell of himself. “They were just so fucking cruel, to anyone. Everyone. They did experiments on humans, the house I was in, you must have killed five at least. But they were better off dead than what they were doing. One … they … they took a human man’s eyes, some kind of spell to get vision into wherever they wanted. Supposedly an offer to the blind gods. I don’t know what they were looking for, that part I couldn’t make out.