Hourglass Skull Novels & Stories

Her sore neck slowly tilted to the upper side, a cracking sound, like a bone snapped was clear as the dawn outside of the greenhouse. There, just how clear her vision could ever be, a skinny woman posture like animal that stands on four leg was hanging up there, with her hair filled with dirt and tangling to each other hanging upside down. Her arm that abnormally twist, broken bone under her skin. Kaylene's breathe stuck, as she was struck with the shocked view.

I kneel, my wet cloak spreading out behind me, and tentatively reach for it when I notice what’s lying beside it… and behind it. The helmet is only a few feet away. Bones of pure white lie scattered between the diadem and helmet. More than one person rests here eternally. Finger bones reach for each other, the digits in exactly the same position they were when the owners of the skulls died here, their hands intertwined. My heart caves in, sinking like a dead weight against my ribs, refusing to beat. I think of the mask, of how I figured the broken prong was that way because of a devastating, absolutely catastrophic blow to the face. It would have been deadly.

With medical gloves on, Red Jorge was the person who took the head from the body and pulled it away, causing the unyielding neck bones to immediately screech, to get a superior perspective on the back of its skull. "I will say that the reason for death was a head injury," Melissa reported in a deliberate tone at which point her eyes detected the huge horseshoe-shaped lesion on the subject's head. —The skull is not only broken, Victoria said intensely before adding: —Look here.— With her index finger and a sharp fingernail painted with red spots, she drew attention to unpredictable tracks that appeared at the edges of the injury and were not valued naked eye.- Melissa needed to twist a little

Sarah clicked her laptop and the photo of the skull appeared on the big screen. “ 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.

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:

How could I stop my mind from constantly wondering who the hell that male was in the trunk that night? I stare at the large grim reaper on his back, there is an hourglass in his hands instead of the usual scythe. Time was more a weapon than that was and they wanted their enemies to know when their time was up. Something like that. There are rumors of them carving an hourglass into the flesh of their enemies and I want to believe its just a myth.

Its skull was grotesquely oversized. A massive tumor bulged from its forehead, swollen with pus. Smaller growths clustered around it in uneven lumps, like something diseased and alive at the same time. Its eyes had been pushed out of their sockets by the swelling. What used to be a delivery guy barely looked human anymore. "Raarh! Raarh!" It opened its mouth wide and clawed at the barrier, pounding again and again. Each strike sent a tremor through the shield. It felt like the blows were landing right against Hayley's skull.

He had finally cleared the jam in his minigun, the heavy metallic clack of the bolt sliding home offering a small comfort in the dark. They reached the end of the corridor. It opened into a vast, circular chamber. The room was shaped like a funnel, sloping downward toward a central pit. The walls were lined with thousands of small, hexagonal alcoves. "What are those?" Haley asked, shining her flashlight beam up the walls. Jack squinted. Inside each alcove was a skull. Human skulls. Elongated skulls. Skulls with horns. A taxonomy of genetic failures. "The waste bin," Jack said grimly. "Failed experiments."

Strange objects were scattered across its surface. A brass astrolabe, dull but still detailed. A collection of oddly shaped crystals that caught the flashlight beams in strange ways, reflecting light that didn’t feel natural. And then— A human skull. It sat quietly among the objects, its hollow eye sockets staring straight into the darkness… as if it was watching them. “Whoa…” Marco whispered, his voice low, caught between amazement and fear. “Your grandfather was into some… really weird stuff.” Ben swallowed hard but said nothing.

Ms Choice didn’t move for a moment, her frail disguise trembled slightly, but her eyes… her eyes were too sharp, nothing like the weak old woman she was pretending to be. Then, without warning, something slipped into her hand. A small skull. Not human-sized… tiny but carved ancient-looking, Its hollow eyes glowed faintly, like something inside it was alive and watching me. I froze. “Ms Choice… what are you doing?” I whispered, my voice barely leaving my throat.