Hourglass Skull Novels & Stories

Gulping, Zander stared at the three heads torn apart from the bodies lying in the dark slime, the only thing recognizable in the room. The skulls were getting disintegrated. Slowly burning, going down, submerging in the acid like black substance. And he gulps. Daring, he lifts his eyes to look at the source of all this chaos. The girl who stood in the center of the slime with her head lowered, her wet hair veiling her face. The skin he was kissing and caressing a few hours ago was pale, white as a ghost. The worn out hoodie she wore every day was red with blood. Torn from places like someone tried to force her.

Gemma has to hurry. There are two points on Draconian that can be used to immobilize them. Jo’s father’s voice rang in Gemma’s head. The Draconian swung its claws again, almost hitting Gemma’s arm. Gemma couldn’t attack it if this flying cockroach kept swinging its claws. The first is in the open forehead. But before that, you have to slash their hands. Gemma looked up and saw what Jo’s father meant. Draconian skulls are not as complete as humans. There was a hole in there that revealed the contents inside its head. There was no brain in it, just a thick, black pulsing lump.

This was an action that he will regret for as long as he lives. Pale, translucent skin stretched across its skull, and greasy, stringy brown hair hung off of it in patches. One of its eyes was a pale corpse-colored blue, its pupil merely a quivering pinprick. The opposite eyelid was plastered into a deformed crevice, revealing the cavernous insides where an eye had once made its home. It growled through a clenched mouth, revealing jagged yellow and black teeth, some of them looking like they had been sharpened down to a point. Its body was grimy and severely emaciated, the outlines of bones looking like they had been carved into its flesh. Red, raised scars covered this thing from its arms t

A human skull lay in the middle of my room surrounded by shards of glass from my now broken window. The time on my phone read 11:47 PM. “This is way too much drama for one day.” I mumbled as I popped my head through the window in search of the culprit but they were gone and I couldn’t pick up a scent. I prodded the frontal bone of the ghastly structure with my toe, how does one deal with an expressly delivered skull? The scent told me this was the real deal and not just a model.

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: