Manacled Book Covers Novels & Stories

They're old, no doubt but kept in sync and the condition of them was really good. As I was looking, one caught my eye—a thick volume bound in cracked leather. When I pulled it out, the cover bore the same mirrored-flame symbol, pressed in faint silver… My heart throbbed and Kira stirred. ‘Open it, Val.’ She whispered, eagerly waiting. Slowly, I glanced at Caroline who stood at a respectful distance, thankfully. I opened the book with tight breaths. Pages of the ancient script were indecipherable, but the illustrations sent a chill down my spine.

Look closer. Her gaze settled on a particularly weathered book tucked away near the corner. Its cover was simple, but a faint embossed design caught the light - a pair of intertwined wolves beneath a crescent moon. The image sent a shiver down her spine, and her fingers tingled as she pulled it from the shelf. She opened it carefully, the pages crackling with age. The script was ornate, the kind that took a moment to decipher, but the accompanying illustrations made her breath catch. Drawings of wolves with hollowed eyes and jagged teeth, their forms twisted and monstrous, filled the margins.

’ ‘No idea… gut feeling’ ‘Or you’re the most intuitive wolf spirit I’ve ever encountered’ ‘Or that’ she replied proud of herself. I peel off the leather cover and find myself admiring and caressing the intricate design of the book cover. In its center, 3 moons are carved in the thick front cover. A full moon in the middle, flanked by to mirrored crescent moons. The full Moon hosts inside of it a tree with arrows instead of leaves, a smooth tree trunk line and 2 symmetrical curved roots pointing right and left. One could tell that the carving was actually burned wood, manufactured in a perfect style, but what was weird and beautiful in fact was that the golden-bronze background was moving, sw

What did that even mean? I took a step back, my mind reeling, and bumped into something behind me. I turned to find shelves I hadn't noticed before, covered with objects that looked ancient. Old books with leather covers, their pages yellowed with age. Chains made of some strange silver metal that seemed to absorb the light. Weapons—actual weapons, knives and what looked like some kind of stakes. And at the center of it all, a large book with a what look like a family crest on the cover. I picked it up with shaking hands and opened it.

It had a black thick leather cover and a golden seal on its top. “The Crow.” Lelia said, and a book with a bright red cover appeared in her palms. She turned to a page where the history and image of the crow was shown. Janeka got her mind back to why they were here and what they were going to defeat. “I see your mind is caught up with the black book.” Lelia said, chewing her lips. “That's what we want, isn't it?” Janeka said.

Nodding toward the book he said, "Is this what you encountered?" I pulled the book closer. When Laeddin leaned in to see as well, I held my breath, fighting to ignore his beckoning blood. The book had pictures of skulls with smoke coming off them, their eyes glowed red. Human bodies bent at strange angles. The pictures definitely resembled what I'd seen happen with the man in the forest and with Abby. Several different kinds of names were given, but demura wasn't one of them. There also wasn't any information on how they could be killed. "I think so."

“do not read your own book—you might not like how it ends.” Glancing further up the case, the letter ‘G’ was carved in deeply. I scanned the books with my eyes and found myself reading the names that were painted on the spines of the books. Glenda Macon, Gregory Marsh, Gwyn Masters… Each book had a name embroidered on the spine. The books were all black, with names in a flat white. Very few books actually looked different from the others. The one named, Glenda Macon, had a rose with thorns dancing along the cover. I even noticed one that was a shade of slate grey.

But I knew some hill folk—especially a hoodoo man named Clive Hartley—who could read Latin, so I put it aside for later. I looked back into the box and of course, that’s when I found it. The book that’s caused all this trouble. The Way of Ah-Tzenul. Course, that’s not what’s printed on the cover. There’s a picture of some sorta tribal man squatting down with both hands raised to the sky etched into the cover and traced in silver. Otherwise, it’s a plain-looking book, all bound in pebbly black leather.

Instead of using a lock an organic substance that resembled thin hardened vines or entwined prickly twigs wrapped around the cover and held it closed. They appeared to have a slight nearly living pulse. I scowled curious. What sort of book was this and why was it bound this way? I tugged harder my fingers grazing the rough intricate surface as I attempted to untangle the odd binding. Then a piercing burning pain. I let out a gasp. I looked down at my finger as I flinched away dropping the book with a loud thump. My skin had a thin deep line that was already crimson and dripping blood. With a sharp hiss of pain I muttered a curse. I had been deeply and sharply cut by the binding.

Charlatans! The back room was large. He searched, until he found the book, he searched for. The book was massive, covered in a thick layer of dust. The cover was locked with a handle that was shaped like a figure with elongated arms, he forced the lock. Nothing happened, he wasn't losing hope. With one movement of his hand, he removed the layer of dust.