Monster With Eyes On Hands Novels & Stories

"That'll be the last time you talk to me like that." A rage so deep burns through me and I cry out, a pulsing gaze of red falling over my vision. When I strike out an arm, I scoure a path down the nearest girl's chest. The rest stumble away, looking at me like I'm a monster. "She shifts?" one says distantly. I look at my hands. Grey. Like the monster's.

I spot Kaine rushing at it and groan in frustration. "So proud," I mutter when the monster flings him away like a rag doll. I cringe as he hits the ground hard, sighing when he slowly sits up. He looks around, his body swaying a little. I turn my attention back to the monster. My lips curls upward in disgust. It stands dozens of meters tall, its chest glowing red with each rattling breath. It has four legs and at least a dozen eyes that move separately. I jog over to the warriors, about to ask why they are keeping their distance when a tail suddenly slams to the ground in front of us. I leap back with a curse, my eyes flying wide.

Breathing heavily. There was … blood on his hands. On his clothes and the wolf… wasn’t moving. My stomach twisted violently. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real- How could a human looking human- kill such a huge monster with … bare hands- I might be losing mind- He turned and … looked at me. Those red eyes locked onto mine. And something in his expression changed. Sharp. Dark. Hungry.

My vision snapped into clarity, and the world around me seemed sharper, brighter. The monster’s eyes — those pale, pitiless lights — flickered. For the first time, there was something in them that almost looked like fear. Recognition flashed across its eyes. Heat surged through my arms, and with it came a strange certainty. I didn’t think. I didn’t plan. I willed it. My hands rose, and with a flick of my fingers, the thing’s grip tore away from me as if it had been yanked by an unseen force. I hit the ground on my feet, breath heaving, but I didn’t stop moving.

Not without the moon goddess at his command! “Oi, free up some Lassie, we're not bad wolves you know? Only a little ugly no?” The boulder of a wolf with one sunken eye and the other the size of a beach ball in his frog-like head cooed and I gaped at him like he had gone mad. The monster had to be the one they called Eagle eye. The Pink-eyed monster’s right-hand man. A shiver of trepidation straightened my spine as the memory of the beast’s mangled face reared in my mind until I’d stomped it out.

"I never had a home." My eyes widen in shock and my whole body trembled in fear as I saw something horrifying. The kid shifted into a huge monster. It has six long hands and eyes embedded everywhere on its body. Its eyes were moving rapidly, like searching for a prey to eat. Its face doesn't have an eye nor a nose but has a huge mouth enough to chomp a human's head. Its sharp teeth showed as it smiled slyly. And then it moved so fast my eyes can't follow.

‘Not really, the only time we lose control during transformation is during the first time ever we transform which is during puberty, and sometimes it’s harder during a full moon’. ‘Oh, well I think that’s all I want to—no wait!’ I suddenly remembered something. ‘Yes?’ ‘There were a few times when our hands touched I could feel something like…I don’t know…a tingling sensation? If that makes any sense; is that something that happens when you touch a werewolf?’ ‘Umm…’ I could see he went stiff. Was it something bad? But before he could continue the front door opened and my mom walked into the living room holding grocery bags.

Who remained on the podium were Marcos and most of his werewolf guardians who surrounded him. They were forming in circles with Marcos in the middle. Then I deliberately dragged my gaze to mama and Justine behind me. When we got the chance to have eye-to-eye contact, mama also felt terrified. So, I shifted the colour of my eyes back to their normal ones. "Ma, are you okay?" I stretched out my right hand to help her up. At first, mama was still in doubt when she simply stared at my hands hanging in the air. But when she sensed the sincerity in my eyes, she deliberately reached my hand.

I am glaring at him from the ground, clipped there. His claws make a slashing sound in the air as he bends down, close to me. With a flash of his teeth, he is about to cut into my chest and likely take out of my heart when I close my eyes and connect deep with my monster. "This is enough play," I whisper to my monster and in return, by the time I would open my eyes, it is all red. My eyes glow a beam of scarlet red, signifying the totality of my rage towards the Alpha of all Alphas. And him, on seeing it, he is shaken up.

I hate the look of my muscles all tense and stitched tight on my back. A lifetime of blows and bouncing back collects scars. I've had a lot of scalding showers, and bruises have become stretched and angry on me, causing pitted scars. There are no tears, but the groans come in multitude. As a monster, you learn never to accept pain. Pain only affects you if you let it. Black slacks. Black socks. Charcoal shoes are polished until they look like a crisp new apple skin. The shirt is deep forest green, which brings out the natural multiple hues of green in my eyes. Intentional. Gold flecks are juxtaposed in my iris.