Manic Eyes Pupils Novels & Stories

The nurse apologetically mutters out from the side, her head bowed down as she refuses to look at her leader in the eye. I place my fingers around the patient’s wrist, counting his pulse rate…it is off the charts. How is he still alive. I lean in, shining my small torch into his eyes to find large black pupils staring back at me. I almost jump out of my own skin when his pupils flicker to white, before turning black again. I think back on the eventful day, on the wolves that were chasing us…they all had that same gaunt, haunted look in their eyes…they all had white pupils.

“It means he knows. Runduc knows I have unlocked my power.” I could feel Callan’s rage surging through my body, and a growl ripped through the room, shaking my bones. I turned around, making Micha’s mouth drop open, but Callan’s eyes flashed black, letting me know his wolf was present. “What is going on with your eyes?” Micha asked. I turned back toward the mirror and peered at my reflection; my eyes were glowing, and the small circle of purple that surrounded my pupil was glowing brightly. I leaned forward, opening my eyes wide in fascination.

Although there were times when Jack gave her an inexplicably strong sense of familiarity and she really wished the Mister Long Legs she had been looking for to be Jack, she was sure Jack was not Mister Long Legs because she got proof. "Although Mister Long Legs was blind, he had amber eyes. His eyes were fascinating in the sun." "Jack's eyes are fascinating too! So many women are just attracted to his deep eyes." Susan retorted. Naomi smiled and shook her head, "But Mister Daddy's pupils are black, not amber. The color of the pupil is born that way. It doesn't change." "Okay. That's a shame." Susan sighed, "Such a shame Mr. Hough isn't Mister Long Legs."

“What’s wrong with my eyes? Is there something in them?” “They’re…white…” he said. I almost laughed out loud. What in the world was wrong with Jay? Or did he suddenly get drunk with the atmosphere? “Jay, my eyes are supposed to be white. Do I need to teach you that? Scleras are white and pupils are brown. So what are you talking about?” “No, it’s not that. I mean, your eyes…everything is white” “Don’t you understand what this means?” he asked, still looking at me with a reverence-like stare.

The kind that says I see you and I am glad and this is everything and I will not make it weird. When she pulls back her eyes are doing something. "Do not," I say. "I am not doing anything," she says. "Your eyes are doing something," I say. "They are fine," she says, blinking rapidly. "Completely fine. Dust." "Hackney dust." "Notorious for it," she says.

She turned to see the man who had caused the stir. The first thing she noticed about the man on the horse was his eyes—shining a bright gold with dilated pupils. It was unlike anything she had seen before: frosty and detached. His muscles were obvious even through his dark shirt, and black, curly hair brushed his shoulder blades. He was pale, unnaturally so, to the point where one might mistake him for a vampire.

Too much blood soaking his clothes and the cobblestones of the alley. The man glanced up, and the right side of his face was a mass of blood, one eye missing. It was all Rhychard could do to keep from vomiting. The man's lone eye was a deep ocean blue and shaped like a cat's eye, the pupil a narrow slit. He looked into Rhychard's face, his own a mask of confusion. "You're human?" Rhychard nodded. Obviously, the man was so far gone his brain had locked him into character. "Yeah, I'm human. Now, we have to get you to a hospital."

She could not lay still, she tightened her grip on his dick. He kept his eyes open seeing her flushed face,whereas her eyes were tightly closed.

Only a priest's prayers could ensure that Daeleen received my eyes. Onlookers expressed envy, and some were even moved to tears by Samuel's devotion to Daeleen. What they did not know was that the romantic Capo they were admiring had plucked out his own wife's eyes, and that the owner of the eyeballs on display were now lying on a bed, staring into nothing but darkness. There was no painkiller being administered. All the moans from the pain left me panting for air, with only the ventilator to keep me from suffocating.

He simply stayed quiet, standing firmly on his feet while being manhandled by his bully. Unable to hold in his anger at the lack of reaction, Jonas pulled his arm back and punched him hard in the face. The teenager's head snapped back from the violent impact, but his body was held firmly in place by Jonas's tight grip on his shirt. Taking a slow, deep breath, the boy opened his eyes and stared right into Jonas's. His gaze was so acute and terrifyingly dead that the guys standing behind the jock instinctively began backing away. His eyes were bloodshot.