Is The Slit-mouthed Woman Real Novels & Stories

Lucia whose kiss has been stolen for the second time in the night, stared at the man’s back as he walked out of the apartment. What just happened? She didn’t agree to be his woman! She unconsciously touched her lip that has just been kissed and recalled the scene that took place a few minutes ago and her face started to burn from shyness again. His lips really were soft.

It was a blessing in disguise though, because the little show of pain made it possible to see the owner of the voice. It was a woman. Dark skin, with a fading scar running from the right side of her upper lips down to her jaw. Her eyes were coppery, contrasting the brown dreadlock that was tied into a ponytail. She was no fresher with the spear and held it masterfully as if she was one with it. “One funny move" the woman glared, "and you are a dead meat.". Dead meat? Ejima shivered. Despite the threat, she felt sweat and fear covering her body. Her eyes strolled down to the woman’s feet and the notion in her stomach elevated when she saw the missing toe…

There was even a mole on my chin, and my lips were thin and cracked. “This… this can’t be real,” I whispered, my voice trembling. My hands flew to my face, feeling the ridges and lines that shouldn’t have been there. It felt like a nightmare. Then I screamed. It erupted from me before I could stop it. “What have you done to me?!” My voice was shrill, echoing through the room. Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, the woman held up a pair of fake, yellowed teeth. “No, no, no, you’re not putting that in my mouth!” I snapped, trying to turn my head away, but the man held my jaw firm. The woman grinned…she was enjoying this way too much…and slipped the stale-looking teeth into my mouth.

This woman—this dangerous, lethal woman—was the real Catarina Vitale. "The dress wouldn't unzip," she said, her voice clipped. "I can't reach the zipper at the back of my neck with all these weapons." I moved toward her without thinking, my hands finding the zipper at the back of her neck. I pulled it down slowly, the sound of metal teeth separating filling the tense silence between us. As the fabric fell away, I realized I was looking at a woman I didn't know at all. A woman who was far more dangerous than I'd ever imagined.

Not at a desk, not posed with deliberation, but sitting in the particular natural way of someone who has been somewhere for a while and is still there — the posture of someone who is in the middle of something rather than at its end or its beginning. Her face was not visible. The silhouette was complete but the features were not — and this, Adaeze understood immediately, was right. This was the right choice. Because the woman in the silhouette was not her specifically. Was not any specific woman. Was the woman in the dark. Every woman in the dark. The woman who was reading messages she was never supposed to see and sitting at a kitchen counter with her hand flat against the cool surface maki

raspy and thin, like dry leaves skittering across pavement. Ophelia spun around, her flashlight beam swinging wildly. “Who are you? Show yourself!” At the end of the tunnel, a light flickered. Not a flashlight, but the warm, orange glow of an old kerosene lamp. Standing beside a massive pile of fallen rock was the woman from the exhibition. She was no longer wearing the black veil, but her face was still partially hidden by the high collar of her red coat. “I’m the one who remembers,” the woman said, stepping into the light. Her hair was a shock of white, and her eyes were bright with a terrifying, feverish intensity.

"I apologise! I apologise!" However, the woman smiled mockingly in response. One moment, she was in the tunnel. The next, she was on the writhing worm's body, with her nails digging into its fatty flesh. Before the worm could get another apology out, she bit down. The worm screeched so loudly that the cave tremored and rocks tumbled down. However, the woman did not let go. It looked strange to anyone not involved in the fight. There was no visible damage being done to the worm and it looked no different. However, its struggle gradually became weaker and weaker. The woman only released her bite once the worm laid still on the ground. She smirked and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack! Beatrice abruptly attacked, slapping the woman across the face repeatedly. She was so harsh that the woman’s dog mask broke, only to reveal… a horrendous face of a beast. Her face was filled with fur, along with a few spots here and there. The woman didn’t look human but more of a leopard demon. Beatrice herself was stunned. She didn’t expect that she could slap the arrogant woman so many times, which indicated that the woman couldn’t dodge at all. This proved that these people didn’t deserve to handle the incantation or their treasures.

"Who the fuck are you?" Shouted, the desperate woman on her knees while her face looked all ruined to watch. Some of the semen flowing down to her jaw then neck to down the floor, made her look all dirty. While glaring at the person on the doorway Christopher's face was blank now. A skinny woman with attractive curves was simple dressed, she looked down all embarrassed and shamefully not wanting to catch anymore of their nudity. One big suitcase on the ground which he assumed fell down from the shock and a big bag in hand, the unwelcomed guest gulped harshly as her every action was noted by Christopher whose hand now loosened the grip on his neighbour's hair.

KALUM I pulled the woman and tied her to the chair. She stared at me with a cold hard stare. I would never hit a woman but I would make exceptions. The camera footage in the house showed nothing, they interfered with it. With the back of my hand I slapped her, knocking some teeth out. “Good luck in finding your mate." She said to me with a wide harsh smile, her teeth were coated with her blood I slapped her again and a few teeth fell from her mouth and rolled in the floor.