The Five Fingers Book Novels & Stories

The silk in my hands thrummed like a living thing. As I unrolled more of it, the letters slid, blinked, then settled into meaning only I could see. My mouth moved before I could second-guess it. I read. “When flame meets tide and night meets dawn, Let five be bound and breathe as one. To bear the weight and keep from harm, The heart must split to grow an arm. Where kingdoms rot and rings lie torn, A many-blood shall be reborn;

The smile on his face faltered a little as he opened a black umbrella and walked over. "What are you doing here? Who's handling things in the pack downtown district?" he asked with a frown. "I've got everything arranged," I said, forcing a smile as I handed him the gift I'd been holding onto this whole time. "I came to say… happy fifth mating anniversary, Alaric." He looked startled, clearly having forgotten it was our fifth anniversary, let alone expecting me to travel all this way to bring him a gift. Surprise flashed in his eyes, and just as he reached for the gift, Serene Vargar's coquettish voice rang out. "Alaric, the elders are here. The council's starting."

His young virile seed was endless, gallons of high quality royal protein that sure made my night. “Oh, god... ooohhhh!” Doris moaned and put the book down. Her left hand had three fingers pushed inside her pussy from the side of her panties. She closed her eyes and shivered, imaging everything she was reading. Picking the book up again, she sighed deeply and resumed.

"What are you doing?" Ian panicked and struggled with all his might, but he could not get away. 10 seconds passed quickly and Big Ken broke Ian's index finger without any hesitation. "Ah..." Ian let out a heart-rending scream but it was lost in the endless wilderness. It was a place where nobody would be able to hear one’s screams. Big Ken grabbed the middle finger of Ian's right hand again and said slowly, "There’s no hurry, you can think about it slowly. You still have 9 fingers, which means you have 9 more chances. After that, it won't just be your fingers that’ll be broken..."

Linda cried out in pain but Charlie simply raised her left hand before he broke all five fingers on her left hand as well. Linda could no longer control any of her ten fingers and all ten of her fingers were limp as they hung onto her skin in an unnatural manner. At this time, Charlie simply said, “Well, if your hand is in that position, I’m going to assume that you are showing paper by default. If you’re going to form a rock, you’ll have to curl all five of your fingers to make a fist. If you’re going to form a scissors, you have to make a V with your fingers. Do you understand me?”

Eyes half closed. Then I felt it. A hand. Not mine. Calloused. Rough. Long fingers. Thick. Warm. It covered my hand. Pushed it down. Took over. One thick finger replaced mine on my clít. Rubbed slow. Firm. Perfect pressure. My own hand fell away. Limp. Useless. I gasped. Loud. Sharp. The finger circled. Teased. Then pressed harder. Faster. Another finger joined. Slid down my slit. Found my entrance. Pushed in. Deep. One knuckle. Two. All the way. Curled. Pressed that spot inside that made stars burst behind my eyelids.

The caption that was attached to the photo read, "Mommy's New Year's present for Lindsey. She was so happy that she started jumping for joy." I continued scrolling through the chat. In October, there was a photo that was captioned, "Lindsey's fifth birthday. Mommy promised to bring us to the beach." In August, it read, "Lindsey's first parent-teacher conference. Mommy looked so beautiful in her suit." In May, the text was, "Lindsey fell sick. Mommy kept vigil by her side the entire night." The earliest photo was sent five years ago, showing a newborn's feet.

5:46 AM and I needed to work. But my body had another idea, my fingers trembled so bad I could barely grip the ribbon. I pulled it and it came loose too easily, sliding across my palm and falling onto the bed like silk. My thumb flicked the lid lifted open and my entire body went cold. Inside, nestled in black velvet, were ten fingers, lined up like they were waiting for someone to count them. My brain didn’t process at first, just saw shapes turning into odd forms. Pink flesh and dirt-caked nails, and knuckles. Then the shapes became real and my stomach twisted, and heaved.

"Michael, I've been good to you, haven't I? I know you're a good kid. But my grandson has been in hiding for five years, and it breaks my heart." My fingers curled tight beneath the table. My pupils trembled. So everyone knew. Everyone except me. Linda pulled a document out of a safe. The contract listed total assets adding up to nearly a million dollars. "Michael, the Blake family isn't going to shortchange you. All you have to do is accept this child. You don't have to worry about anything else. Jessica promised me she wouldn't have any more contact with Ryan than necessary…" Linda didn't get to finish. Jessica cut her off.

He then held the Nostro Compass in his hands while looking solemn. Tyr also held his breath. He knew what was going to happen next. It would be something of great importance to them. After some time, Jim announced, “Boss, the fifth book is the Torment Manuscript. Our nation is not exactly going through a difficult time as our era is somewhat peaceful.” “Well, you told me about that before.” Tyr nodded. “The five magic books were born out of the Celestial Empire’s luck. Those books can't be born abroad. Old Zab, where is the fifth book? Have you figured it out?”