How To Spell Blood With Your Hands Novels & Stories

Aisling held her hand out. Aria nervously put her hand in Aisling's and the girl lifted her other hand, pointing her index finger. A long taloned claw protracted from her nail and Aria tensed as Aisling poked the sharp tip into the pad of her palm in the fleshy part below her thumb. A bright red drop of blood welled up and Aisling smeared it across Aria's palm, staring at it like it was revealing things to her. Aria watched on in awed silence as the blood filled the deep lines on her palm like it was telling a story. Aisling made humming noises of interest and curiousness.

someone said. She repeated her motion, casting her eyes downward while glaring at his hands. “What?” According to the proverb, “blood is on your hands” in this situation. She spoke in a hardly audible tone. He was looking. There wasn’t a lot of blood; it was mostly just a few spots here and there and a tiny spot on the sleeve of his white shirt. However, it was sufficient to pique her interest in the topic.

The sting made me hiss softly, but I watched with satisfaction as the first bead of red swelled, then ran down the curve of my hand. I turned my wrist over and let it fall, one drop, then another, into the silver bowl placed before me. Each drop rang like a promise. The witches began to hum, low and steady, the sound vibrating through the air like the beat of something ancient. The fire flickered higher, feeding on their voices. I dipped my fingers into my blood and drew a line across my forehead, smearing it down the bridge of my nose. I whispered, “By blood I bind, by blood I claim, by blood I awaken.”

Joyce said "That might work," Aunt Lil said "Let's try it," I said and stood next to Joyce "I will need to cut your hand because I need some of your blood for this to work," Joyce said Without hesitation, I held my hand out to her. She took the knife and made a small cut on the inside of my hand. I let the blood fall into a bowl that was in front of me. She then began to speak in that foreign language she always does when she performs a spell. The mixture in the bowl started to bubble after she was done. She then put one of those compasses inside the bowl and took it out.

But now, we have no idea who or what we were facing, the danger was lurking outside. “It is an ancient incantation spell. This will tell us something about it, anything related to it.” she said and started saying something in foreign language. She looked up from her book. “Your hands.” She signalled me to come forward. “You freed them from the tree, their blood is still on your hands, let me see if you are still connected to them.” She said and took a knife from her right side before slitting my palm. I gasped as my blood, instead of dropping down on the floor freezes on my hand and for a second I doubted if it just travelled up. Where ever the drop flows, my skin heated. A very light pinch

But when I glanced back, she was chanting with the others. The man let go at once after making a straight cut from my left-to-right palm. “Step forward and do not close your palms. Allow the blood to feed the star,” Sue said, and I nodded, lifting my hands above the symbol, watching as my blood dripped onto the top of the coffin.

he mutters. “You know what? I have had enough of you and your fucking mouth!” I squeeze my fist as hard as I can, ignoring the pain and the blood that comes from my nails digging into my skin. I swing my hand toward Godfrey, letting droplets of my blood touch his skin—necessary for the hex I am performing. I chant under my breath, my eyes locked on him.

I took his hand, wiped it clean, and made a cut, instructing him to put some drops of it on my forehead. "Oculus mentem, sanguis vinculum, vide et influere!" (Eye of mind, blood bond, see and influence!) I held my hands in a cupped position, as though I was cradling an egg. I made a subtle, sweeping motion with my finger, as though I was tracing a path. "I forge a bond of understanding, seeing through the eyes of another. May Luca and I become temporarily bound,” I cast my spell but nothing happened. I was devastated and turned to look at Xavier who was looking back at me strangely.

I guess it’s not that easy to perform such a powerful spell. I was about to turn the page and look at something else when small words at the bottom caught my eye. It was written in a different language but strangely, I could understand. THIS SPELL CAN ONLY BE PERFORMED AT ONE’S POINT OF DESPERATION. TO PERFORM THIS SPELL, SPILL BLOOD FROM YOUR HEART ON THE GROUND AND CHANT THE ABOVE WORDS THREE TIMES WHILE LOOKING AT THE MOON.

What was written in the book was in an archaic language that I could not read. As he began to chant the spells, a familiar whirl settled around us, creating a barrier and I gasped. Magic is sometimes pretty, especially when used in the right hands… “Give me your hand.” He says sternly. I do so immediately and he slashed my wrist with a pen knife, allowing the blood to drip into a cauldron. The pain made me bite my lower lip, I didn't want to cry out because he slashed his own too and twirled the blood in the cauldron together.