Novel & Cerita Under The Skin

Samantha stood in the middle of the forest, her body trembling as she gazed down at her hands. They were no longer human hands. Instead, they were covered in thick, dark fur, and ended in sharp claws. Her clothes had shredded apart, and she was naked except for a pair of shorts that barely held up against her newly formed muscular legs. The moon was full, and its glow seemed to intensify the changes she was going through. Samantha had never thought she would become a werewolf, but life had a way of surprising her.

With haste, she inquired directly. "Ah, Doctor Johnson. I did not wish to trouble you, but I find myself in need of your help. The young heir of the illustrious Shaw lineage seeks a masterful doctor with the ability to cure Dermatographia Urticaria. His condition surpasses that of mere dermatographism." Mr. Turk divulged. 'He is attempting to rid himself of his ailment, but why? I am aware that he can already make contact with Abigail, as they have engaged in intercourse. Could it be that he is unable to touch his own son? Despite being family?' Kelsa pondered to herself.

Levi’s POV I turned sharply to the back of the hall, trying to put a face to the voice that had just objected to my wedding ceremony. Scanning the room, my eyes locked on a particular target. Monica. Of course. I had a feeling she would make an appearance. Dramatic as always, she was dressed in a skin-tight black floor length number, with an accompanying black shawl draped over her head.

It would be a happy death if the last thing I saw was the way her back arches in response, pressing out and up into that magnificent curve, as if she might be swept away into the night sky by the Moon Goddess herself. Then I saw it. Just below the nape of her neck, a faint ripple moved beneath the surface, almost like a muscle twitch, but different. The skin shivered, the flesh momentarily firming, as if something were pressing up from within. It was barely a flicker, gone as quickly as it appeared, but it was unmistakable.

Could a ghost have killed her? "The medical examiner says she died two months ago, and she was skinned." It felt like a ton of bricks just hit me. I couldn't believe it. Skinned? Who could do something that horrific? "She's been missing for so long. Didn't anyone notice and report her missing?" Two months ago, I was still in school, and when I got home, everything seemed normal. Wait. Now that I thought about it, there were a few weird things that didn't add up.

BENEATH THE FACADE Behind the façade of wealth and power, a web of secret awaits Chapter 25 beneath Emily's POV: Saturday afternoons like this were rare—quiet, unhurried, indulgent. I was curled up in the center of my bed, legs tucked beneath a fleece blanket, the soft hum of my air conditioner barely audible beneath the sound of dialogue playing from my laptop screen. My favorite series was midway through its new season, and I was already two episodes deep, with no plans of stopping anytime soon.

From under my skin. Words I didn’t understand. But I felt them. You are not broken. I sat up slowly, my hands glowing faint silver. I stared at my palms, the bruises were still there filled with blood and dirt. But something shined under the skin, I wasn't cold anymore, I was burning from within. Something in me had opened. Something I didn’t know I had. I stood up shaking I looked back at the trail I’d crawled. No one followed. They thought I was dead.

maybe even more so, with his lean frame and that dangerous curve of his lips that promised things no one dared speak aloud. Cassie’s body was a weapon too, tall, lithe, with curves that whispered promises beneath her midnight-black silk dress. The fabric clung to her like a second skin, outlining the swell of her breasts, the slender arch of her back, the sharp curve of her hips. Her skin was smooth and pale, a stark contrast to the dark silk that traced her every move. Tonight, she was the hunter, and the prey was about to fall.

Chapter 8 The marble hallways on the 18th floor of Velmore Capital were silent, save for a firm step that advanced without hurry, yet without hesitation. The glass walls reflected light and shadow, revealing more than they concealed. A female figure emerged with the relentless calm of someone who knows exactly where she’s going. Her pearl-colored dress delicately outlined a composed presence, while a long, dark blue coat—carefully fitted—wrapped her in the elegance of a deliberate gesture. Each step seemed marked by an invisible metronome: measured, precise, leaving no room for distractions or doubts.

I extend my claws yet again, narrowly missing its random grab as it struggles to get away from me. I land right on it, finding purchase in the groove of its muscles. For some reason, I expected its body to be hard with muscles and structure, but my nails pierce right through as though it's made of jelly. I take a closer look as it clumsily tries to grab me, and I see some strange spores on its skin. Almost like mold. They're black and nasty-smelling, clustered in so many places like barnacles. Unable to take the mystery, slice its chest, breaking off its skin.