Anbu Black Ops Mask Novels & Stories

I carefully read through the terms and conditions, took a deep breath, and scribbled my name at the bottom, handing it back to her without a second thought. Barbara fixed her gaze on me, a spark of excitement in her eyes, and declared, "Alright, get ready for the photoshoot." She gestured towards her camera and the array of video recording equipment, giving me a rush of adrenaline. Then, she handed me a sleek black mask, its silver glossy markings shimmering under the studio lights. It was designed to cover just my forehead and the area below my eyes—striking and mysterious. I slipped the mask on, feeling an exhilarating mix of anonymity and anticipation. She studied me for a moment, a smirk

He sat perfectly still, but every line of his body screamed power. ​He wore a polished silver mask that covered the left half of his face, where the worst injuries were rumored to be. The mask was cracked in one place, giving it a brutal, shattered look. His visible features were sharp: a strong jawline, and one eye deep, icy black that was currently fixed on the patterns in the carpet. He looked like a fallen king, ruined but still terrifying. ​"Anya," my father mumbled, shoving me forward. "Meet Alpha Ronan."

Playlist~ Don't Forget To Breathe - Anson Seabra *Captive's Home* Anna's kidnapper is back again to the basement at 9pm. He knows that's when Anna will be awake from the drugs he had given her. He was wearing his scary facemask again and his black handgloves were worn perfectly on his hands. He seems to love a black costume because that's what he's been wearing from the onset and he's wearing that now. Black inner shirt and black jacket paired with black pants. His shoes were like that of a military officer going for a war.

The man put on his shirt and slowly turned around, surprisingly wearing a black mask on his face. The mask covered half of his face, revealing thin lips and a pair of deep eyes, the ink-black pupils were as cold as the night, emitting a mysterious light. The right side of the mask had a hollowed out golden fire-shaped symbol at the forehead position, domineering and wild. Jenna could not help but take half a step back, a rent boy, how could he have such a powerful aura, did she recognize the wrong person? No, that tattoo, there would never be a mistake.

exactly what they came for. **** The evening sun set behind the horizon, bathing the resort in a gentle glow as Cassia and her friends got ready for the masquerade ball Quinn had insisted they attend. The excitement was evident as they picked out their masks. Cassia’s mask was elegant, black with gold accents, shaped like delicate wings that framed her face. It perfectly matched her flowing dark dress, giving her a mysterious yet stunning look. Kiara’s mask was bold and vibrant, decorated in red with feathers, while Quinn went for something simple but sparkling, lined with silver beads.

But my thoughts divulge as I finally notice his mask. I gasp. The mask is an eerie matt black sheet of armor like metal that covers half of his skull. It appears modeled to fit his perfectly symmetrical face and pressed artfully across the bridge of his nose. But what stands out the most are two golden ram horns that protrude from the top corners. They curve backwards to sit where I assume to be just below his ears. What a dreadful reminder of the fact I still stand in the company of the devil. A man that has a distorted face, who has killed his parents, his brother and four of his future wives!

Turning a corner, a shoulder sharply bumps into me, knocking me to the side with enough force to send a packet of pasta falling from my shopping bag. “My bad," I mumble, stooping down to grab the bag from the cobblestones. However, the man I bumped into sweeps down and grabs it before my fingers can even brush the packaging. “You dropped this.” He holds it out to me. I shudder at his ethereal voice before I raise my attention to his face, audibly gasping. He wears a black mask that covers the lower half of his face. All I can see are his duel coloured eyes that stare down at me - one violet and one obsidian black - and a pair of dark eyebrows that match his hair.

POV: DAIMON Black dress, tight, hugging her curves as if it had been molded directly onto her body. The side slit revealed the pale skin of her thigh, inviting. The subtle neckline delicately outlined her breasts in a way that was both elegant and provocative. Her loose brown hair, lightly wavy, fell naturally down her back, while a black mask hid part of her face, revealing only her eyes... green, intense, expressive. An absurd contrast with her red lips that seemed drawn for damnation.

-Miyuki said to herself, staring at the gray pavement. - Would you really be so sad?- she heard a familiar voice suddenly, slightly out of breath, so stopped right away and turned to see Aoi Takashima standing behind her, gasping for breath. - Were you running here?- Miyuki asked in surprise, looking at him. He was still dressed all in black, in jeans and a hoodie, but this time his blouse had a drawing of a skull entwined with roses. The black mask on his face was now pulled down over his chin. It was also noticeable that his eyes were not underlined with black eyeliner, which made her see his face completely without makeup for the first time.