Werewolf Hands Novels & Stories

I smirked and lifted my eyes, and the werewolf in front of me gasped, looking at the color of my eyes. Without warning, I put my hand into the werewolf's chest His eyes widened, but before he realized what was happening, I yanked my hand away, tearing his heart out. He immediately collapsed to the ground, and I squeezed the blood from his heart, causing it to stream onto the ground.

The nails on the hand attached to the arm was sharp like talons. Vastria looked around the bloody mess of a scene in the clearing. More growling and cries echoed. She looked up. A figure in the mist that grew around the clearing made it hard to see or identify the figure, but she recognized a furry beast. It was larger than a wolf. This beast was white, and silver covered in red, blood. Its teeth baring at its attacker with flesh stuck to it. The attacker only had one arm. Its hand bared sharp talons. The attacker had lost its arm to the werewolf that laid before her dead. All she could make out was its eyes. It glowed silvery. The same silvery glow of a vampire.

Asphalt lounged on Derek first, and before Derek could even get the time to transform into his wolf form, Asphalt gets him. His canines pierce right into his arm and with one move, he tears his right arm away. Others including me cringe at the sigh, as blood gushes out of him and he screams. Asphalt tossed his torn hand in the air and opened his mouth wide. My jaw hung down when I witnessed in front of my eyes, Asphalt gulping down a whole werewolf hand as if it was his meal. I start to feel a little nauseous and watch anyway.

I didn’t see anything in his hands when he started to chase me. Werewolf claw. That’s what did it. Giggling at my own silliness, I open the shower and wince when the warm water hit the open wounds. Allowing the tears to flow freely, I lean with my forehead against the wall, watching the bloody water swirl around the drain. An image of the deranged Neanderthals storming me flashes through my head, then something I saw but either forgot or chose to ignore - Lefty’s hand mutating into a claw just as I turned my back on him.

I roared, the power of the werewolf surging through me, enabling me to wrench my right hand free from Scarlet's grip. With newfound strength, I quickly freed my left hand with the help of my right hand, but Scarlet was already poised for an attack. Her claw slashed across my face, causing a burst of pain and a spray of stars across my vision. She was relentless, her attacks aimed at my face, each blow accompanied by her furious accusations.

I could not help but let out a cry of pain, my voice raspy and rough. I was kind of surprised. I tried to speak, "I...I..." Every word sounded very low and hoarse, like the voice of a 70 year old woman. I tried to touch my throat. All of a sudden, I saw my hand. I had shifted from the wolf form to the human form. My hand was no longer a paw covered with silver fur, but an ugly human hand covered with scars. It was badly scalded. I was frightened by my hand. I looked at my arm and it was covered in dried blood. The black blood clotted over the horrible scars and looked like a pair of devil's arms.

Her hand whipped up in front of her and she aimed it at the first wolf, her fingers forming the shape as if she were squeezing them right around the wolf’s throat. The man stopped dead in his tracks, his hands flying to his throat, and the choking sound filling the air as if he really was being strangled. In an instant, Barach lifted her other hand, aiming this time at the wolf who was coming just behind the first. Again, the second wolf began to grip at his own throat, clawing at himself as if he were trying to remove some invisible hand. Barach continued to chant, her eyes glowing a bright, luminescent violet even as she picked up the two werewolves with her power, causing them to dangle b

He says. I rise on shaky legs, weak now that the pain has receded. Paws, not something that belongs on a wolf in the least. Panic makes my chest feel tight as I remember the muscular digits and I hold my human hands up to examine them. A cat, a huge one. Why the fuck were my hands changing into paws of a huge cat?

I unleash a barrage of swift attacks, my claws slicing through the air, meeting flesh and bone with a resounding impact. The first rogue werewolf lunges at me, jaws wide open, aiming for my throat. Instinctively, I twist my body, evading the attack with a graceful swiftness. With a powerful swipe of my paw, I strike his side, feeling the satisfying crunch of bones breaking beneath my claws. He yelps in pain, stumbling back, momentarily incapacitated.

Lucas shifted into his wereform only halfway so swiftly that he noted the look of shock on the approaching rogue werewolf who was met with bright grey eyes that promised agony. Dodging the rogue's attacks easily, he landed quick solid punches on the werewolf's midsection who fell to his knees with a howling cry of pain. Quickly darting around him from an unexpected angle, he gripped both of his hands as he was still kneeling in pain and twisted them slowly until they popped and pulled off their sockets with a resounding crunch making the rogue utter a loud and toe-curling howl of pain. The rogue was now pleading for his life as he was screaming out in pain with tears streaming down his eyes