Novel & Cerita Pockets Of Blood Under Skin

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from gasping. If earlier I thought she was thin, I was sorely mistaken. Now that I stood so close to her, I could see that she was all skin and bones. Dark circles under her eyes, cracked pale lips with dried blood on the corner of her mouth. Her skin was yellowish and had small cuts all over her body and bruises. Some bruises were old, they were already a mix of yellow and light purple color and others were fresh, black and dark purple. What caught my eye was despite the state she was in and where she was, her eyes still had a glint in it.

He reassured the Delta before stepping aside and letting me through. I entered the room and the door closed behind me, leaving me alone with the three werewolves—and a horrifying sight. Rum was on the bed, lying face down, his back bare, facing up. And all over his back was a web of black branches, thick ones and thin ones overlapping intricately, converging to an opening in the greyish-white skin—the stabbed wound. Veins. These are the veins and blood vessels inside Rum's body. I followed one black blot as it moved towards the wound and watched it appear as a blob of fluid, black and red, like a drop of dirty blood, the size of a marble.

He tilts his head to his side due to which his cloak slips down from his head, revealing a face that will provoke a nightmare in anyone’s sleep. His is as pale as a sheet. His eyes are bloody red and his pupils are silver in color. The skin on the left side is cracked and sunken in, which is in total contrast to the smooth and tender skin towards the other side of his face. The skin on the jaw on his left is so thin that his teeth could be seen easily. Moreover, the skin on the left keeps flaking and thus, pieces of his rotten skin keep flying off every time he moves his jaw.

It dragged upward, gouging furrows into the wet earth. Then a second hand. The rebels stepped back as the ground trembled. Lucien’s voice was cold as ice. “It’s crawling out.” The creature’s horned head breached the surface. Its skin was stretched tight over a skeletal frame, slick with slime and covered in pulsating veins that glowed faintly red beneath the flesh—like embers trapped beneath ash.

As I watched the car tear down the road, my heartbeat matched the speed on the screen. Then there was a loud bang. The driver jumped out to look. The footage shows two adults lying on the ground, and the victim's baby had been tossed a distant away. There was blood everywhere. It was so terrible that I almost couldn't watch. Charles and Freddie wiped at their eyes beside me. Then, unbelievably, Maeve said they weren't dead and backed the car up to run over them again. When the relatives saw that, they went completely berserk. "Charles! Freddie! I don't care who was driving. Kill them both!!

Any thermometer would have failed to measure what I could see what I could feel. There were black veins. Thin, unnatural lines moving beneath his skin, like living ink made of shadow itself. They pulsed, spreading with each heartbeat. I had seen similar cases, but nothing like this. They’d started at his ankles, creeping upward, pulsing with an intensity that made my chest tighten. Now they had reached his waist. If they crossed any further, spread past that point, he’d be gone. Not in the usual medical sense. Gone entirely. I pressed my fingers against his wrist again, feeling the pulse. Weak, but it was there. Just barely.

But then, a violent cough tore through me. Warm liquid filled my mouth. I brought my hand up and saw red. Blood. My knees nearly buckled at the sight. I steadied myself against the wall, something burned along my wrist. When I looked down on my wrist, the sight nearly made me black out from fear. A thin black mark had appeared beneath my skin, like ink spreading through veins. The Mark of the Cursed.

VIVIENNE pov I stared at the mirror like it owed me money. Naked. Full-frontal and no mercy. The black veins had retreated to thin, ugly spiderwebs under my skin, mostly arms, thighs, ribs, a nasty crown creeping up my throat like some gothic tattoo gone wrong.

The cold shudders rattle my being as I wince and sit up properly, blinking the blur away as sweat rolls down my face. Staring at my rattling thighs, I gulp with dismay as I bring my hands to lift the silk fabric of my dressing gown slowly. My heart pounds against my ribcage with fear, dreading the worst as my fair and spotless skin comes into view. "Huh? What's that?" Right against the inner part of my right thigh, I see something threadlike and pale pink in color weaving against my skin. The threads are alive as they course my skin, inflicting tiny tingles in that spot.

Two doctors hold on to her as her heartbeat begins dropping. I scan her slender back fast, and that is when I see it, a dark patch forming beneath her skin just below her shoulder blade. “I need a knife and a cloth!” I exclaim. “Get a bowl ready now!” They move fast, and someone passes me a knife. With one hand, I hold the cloth beneath the part, and with the other hand, I make a quick incision. Blackened blood, thick due to being partially frozen, begins leaking out and I wipe it up.