The Hand Requiem 소설 & 이야기

Much closer. Then something else emerged. A hand. God. No. Thomas felt his stomach drop. The hand was enormous. Larger than entire buildings. Dark gold. Covered in ancient symbols. Its fingers wrapped around the remains of a shattered tower. Then crushed it effortlessly. Stone exploded. Dust filled the abyss. The hand continued climbing. Slowly. Patiently. Like it wasn't in a hurry. Like it knew escape was inevitable. Then Rowan whispered: "That's a hand." Honestly?

A moment later, an awful bony hand reached up from the bottom of the pond. The old bones were shining with a grey-white clarity. The wrist was completely bare of flesh, but the fingers and joints still seemed strong, despite the fact that they had no muscles or tendons. The hand held Reive’s family ring. Not looking at the results of his frightening magic, the necromancer took the ring and put it on. His gloomy attention was fixed entirely on me. As if watching my reaction like a predator. “Well, why do we need this performance?” I snorted. I wanted to show him that I wasn’t impressed at all.