Anomaly Face Novels & Stories

I knew that if I had let them see I was losing hope, they would have lost it too… Sucking in a shaky breath, I rose to my feet and wiped the tears away. I washed my face in cold water before reapplying my makeup. Once I was certain nothing would betray my emotionally fragile state, I mustered a faint smile and returned to my laptop, feeling relieved that no one noticed anything strange. “That's odd,” Ashley suddenly muttered, frowning at her screen. “What's odd?” I rushed toward her. She smiled wryly. “Are you sure that the algorithms for the face recognition are fine?”

“What's with this long face, Ana?” Mindy asked Anisia, seeing her making those weird faces like she was having a battle with her own self inside her mind. “Nothing,” Anisia answered while still scowling and frowning, which confused Mindy and Miguel. They all were present inside Miguel's room and were having their dinner.

Erasure. Not punishment. Not exile. Removal. I felt my fingers curl slightly in my lap. “Then why am I still here,” I asked. Silence. Then the truth. “Because you are registered as a protected anomaly.” The words sounded clinical. Distant. Like they were discussing a dangerous artifact and not a person sitting right in front of them. But what does that even mean. “A what.” “A convergence irregularity,” the man continued. “A human whose blood has been confirmed as… special. Valuable enough to destabilize supernatural bonds. Dangerous enough to threaten the human world if mishandled.”

The entire row of human proxies jolted in unison, their heads snapping toward Anji like broken dolls. "I’m not giving you a sequence," Anji snarled, forcing himself closer despite the electrical pressure that was making his teeth ache. "I’m giving you an emotional protocol. An anomaly your system has never seen before." “Analysis incomplete. Anomaly is... incoherent.” "Exactly."

Hey everyone..... Did you love abnormally normal? I really hope you did. Anyways, I'm here for a reason (what is it?) I'm coming. Abnormally normal is a story that really was a challenge, especially with the antagonist, but I believe no one is just born bad, something led or made them be that way. Rita was someone who found herself as someone who didn't belong, she's a hybrid, she isn't vampire, she isn't werewolf, she isn't human, where does she fit in then?.

Armand only reached his current age with so many ups and downs in his life, but this was the first time he encountered people like them whose appearances can't get captured by the lens. He was looking to his right side. They were now in his personal working office, and the monitor atop the desktop connected to the surveillance cameras showed that the faces of the two people before him were featureless. And oh, it was not that they had no eyes, brows, nose, and lips. It was just that a blinding glow covered their faces. Even the skin exposed from their clothes were like that. Surely, no gluta magic lotion could do that, right? And CCTVs too have no whatsoever filter that would idiotically bri

What's NOT fine is the 'if there's an Anomaly within a hundred meters of me, it will try to eat me no matter what' kind of attention. I am like catnip to those creatures. No one knows why, exactly, but one of the smarter researchers at the TWMO thinks it's because Anomalies and I have similar abilities. Anomalies, especially those Rank B and above, have the ability to induce fear. The paralyzing, hypnotic fear that will most definitely guarantee you will end up in its belly if you don't know how to guard yourself against it. Since they can establish an empathy link with their prey, they find me particularly irresistible, since I have an empathy link with almost everyone. In their mind, I'm w

“I didn't recognize you; you were so bloody. Besides, I only saw you that night, and with so much stress and running around, it was a traumatic experience, and my car was a total loss.” “It's very strange; it's the first time a woman doesn't remember my face and resists having an affair with me the first time they meet me; You intrigue me; you are a challenge for a psychologist.” “I have a problem with recognizing faces; I think it's called prosopagnosia, and I associate faces with people who act the same; besides, I erase the ones that make me have bad experiences.”

The face was wrong. He understood this before he could have articulated why he understood it, some prior visual cognition that registered the wrongness before it resolved into analysis. The face was assembled correctly, the proportions were correct, the features did what faces did, but there was a quality to it that was slightly adjacent to itself, the specific quality of a structure that has been altered and has healed into the alteration and has become its own thing but carries, somewhere in the healed scar tissue, the memory of a different configuration. It was not a face that had aged normally. It was a face that had been remade and then had aged, which was a different thing, and the dif

“Enhance it.” “We’re trying, but the angle—” “Fix it. Get me his face.” Silence. Tension stretched. Then— “Got something.” The image sharpened slightly. Not perfect. But clearer enough. Another system kicked in as a facial mapping began running across databases, pulling records, matching structures, analyzing features. Searching. Searching. Searching— “Come on…” I muttered under my breath. Then— The machine popped as it lit up green. Match found. The screen shifted with everyone going still as the face appeared on the screen.