Skull Beneath The Skin Novels & Stories

The bald man’s body squirmed a little, completely lifeless. “Fane, watch out!” Both Selena and Nash were shocked at the sight of that little black skull. They immediately yelled at Fane in panic, alerting him. Fane did not even dare to turn around and immediately dogged aside in a flash. Right after he veered to the side, the black skull charged forward faster and in an instant, it came before Selena. Before Selena could react, the little black skull burrowed into her left cheek. Selena’s eyes widened.

Not a normal, at least not entirely. But close enough that the distinction made it worse. She felt her stomach tighten before her mind caught up. It resembled an elongated human skull. But not clean, not actual bone. Something distorted. The structure of bone sat too clearly beneath that ashen surface, warped and stretched, the hollows of its eyes deep and wrong, filled not with flame but with a dark, blood-red saturation that did not glow, did not flicker, only watched. Aware and focused. On her.

Thousands of skulls stared blankly at them, stacked meticulously between neatly arranged femurs. "It’s tight," Harper whispered. Her mech scraped against the walls as she moved, the sound of metal grinding against bone echoing loudly in the confined space. Skritch-crunch. "Warning: proximity alerts on all sides," Harper's HUD flashed. "Sebastian, we can't use missiles down here. A concussion wave will collapse the entire ossuary." "Precision weapons only," Sebastian agreed, advancing slowly. His ten-foot-tall frame barely cleared the ceiling. Every step had to be careful; the ground was uneven and slick with ancient moisture.

The Skull King Chapter 2 Cassini I lay back on the lounge chair in the shade while looking over the pool. We were on the top of a hill, so the city of Florence could be seen past the property a few miles into the distance. I read a book on my lap while I relaxed in my swimsuit, enjoying the summer heat while my cold drink perspired. Every few pages, my mind would start to wander. Wander to the man I met a few nights ago. He didn’t have a name, and his business card was even more unusual. The only detail was the sketch of a black skull. It was fossilized bone with a snake protruding out of the eye socket. I googled anything related to skulls online but couldn’t find anything relevant.

The black cloak on his body instantly turned into fragments and flew, revealing his skeleton-like figure. What was he like? His dark brown skin was covered with wrinkles like a dry bark, tightly sticking to his bones. His head was also bony, his eyes were sunken, and his pupils were gray. It was as if he was a human-shaped skeleton covered with a layer of dried animal skin. On his back, there were two palm prints of silver and gold. They looked very shallow. It seemed that they didn't leave too many scars on him. However, only he knew how serious the injuries in his body were. The crazy Sword Intent with killing intent was rapidly devouring his vitality.

Finally, it sank into the earth, creating a layer of dust as it met with a half-buried skull in the ground, half of which was visible from the outside and the other half was buried deep in the soil. For a brief moment, the skull started to vibrate violently, excavating a portion of it. Soon after, a large area of the earth surrounding the buried skull sank, creating a dent in the shape of a human being. Surprisingly, the broken skull reformed itself, the fractures healed, and the chipped off pieces reattached themselves. The remainder of the skeleton materialized out of nowhere, the bones aligning themselves on the dent, and ligament materializing out of nowhere, connecting the bones.

Axel heaves. Inside, the creature is twisted unnaturally, bones cracked and rearranged to make it fit. A human — or what is left of him — curled into himself like a broken doll. His limbs have been snapped backwards, folded tight against his torso, elbows pushed under the ribcage. The skull is caved in on one side, the jaw partially unhinged, revealing teeth clenched around his own tongue. He has clearly been dead for years — lots of years — his skin stretched tight over bone like old parchment, dark brown and leathery.

So, witnessing the one before our eyes felt unreal. I ran my gaze down his body. No, not a body...just a...structure. At first glance, you'd perceive them as skeletons but upon a closer look, you'd see the skin. The skin that was so parched, brittle, and thin that it cracked with every movement. It was stretched tight across bones, with no flesh or muscle beneath...like something half-alive and half-dead. The eyes were sunken pits with no eyeballs but just a dim glow. It had no lips, just a wide gap as a mouth and when it spoke, a wheezing sound accompanied its words.

But my throat locked. The hand pulled the hood back. And I forgot how to blink. His face—or what used to be a face—was a grotesque collage of death refusing to die. Parts of his skull were exposed, bits of muscle webbed over raw bone. One eye socket had collapsed inward, while the other eye bulged out unnaturally, rimmed with black that glistened like tar. His lips were mostly gone, leaving teeth exposed—blackened, crooked—and gums that bled in slow drips. More of those maggot-like things wriggled just beneath his skin, disappearing into sunken holes in his cheeks.

Ivan roared, his voice echoing like thunder in the small cavern. I ignored him. I ran my fingers through the hair at the base of her skull. My breath hitched. There was a soft, spongy area right at the occipital bone. The skin wasn't just bruised; it was split in a clean, vertical line. This wasn't an injury from a Hound. A Hound’s bite is messy, jagged, and full of tearing. This was a blunt force impact. A concentrated strike to the most vulnerable part of the human cranium.