Black Deadpool Mask Novels & Stories

she moaned, grabbing another cup. Rebekah quickly took it from her. "You can't get drunk without telling us what happened" she said. "Fine, Banks sent thugs to me, and they ruined my car" she said. "What! Same Banks?" Morgan gasped, swirling her drink in her cup. "Of course!" Pearl snapped. "I can't believe it, were they wearing masks? What's the colour of their masks?" Rebekah asked. "Black and white?" Pearl replied. "I knew it! Only The Titans use black and white masks and Rook is the leader, you should have known!" Morgan shouted.

An elegant onyx-black mask, etched with faintly glowing wolf runes. My eyes narrowed. “The mask is designed to hide your aura,” He referred to Maverick. “It will help distort your voice, block scent tracking and also cloaks your magical signature and facial recognition” He said. I took the mask, staring and admiring it. A key for walking into human spaces without detection. “It’s bound to your energy,” Ardan said. “Only you can remove it. And if it breaks... we have problems.” I crossed my arms. “So you’re going to play Batman now?”

The man with a mask over his face. *

He carries them but that doesn’t mean they would also vanish same as the life taken from him. As they leave, and the cemetery become soon deserted, a silhouette could be seen standing in front of his tomb. It was of a man or is it? He was clad in a black hoodie, which concealed his face. A mask cloth that hides his lips. He was staring at him. Cold orbs, which offered nothing, but hatred. On his hand, he was clutching a small knife. It was sharp, smeared with blood, which slowly drips from the ground as the sky opens and the droplet of rain gushes.

"Come on, we can--" Before I can finish, I stop when I see the smoke clearing away. There, lying on the ground right in front of us, hidden at first because of the smoke, is a man. The man appears to be wearing some sort of weird, black and brown armor, with a large belt with a dozen pouches. He also is wearing a white mask with red eyes. "A white mask," I think, "Red eyes? Guys, this is Silent!" "Silent," SpeedBlade repeats, looking at the downed man. Silent isn't unconscious but he seems to be hurt. He's holding his arm.

I lowered the crowbar back to the floor and stood slowly from where I had been crouching in front of the Beetle. I watched his house to see if anyone else would be coming out, so far no one did. This was probably my only chance at getting back at the piece of shit. I pulled the zipper on my Darth Vader mask hoodie up to my neck and pulled the hoodie over my head but left my face bare. I didn't want to draw too much attention from any unsuspecting neighbours by using the mask, plus I hated the stupid eye holes that came with it.

Silver~ He was wearing a black and red crochet bunny mask with red horns and long flat ears. His black turtle neck shirt was tucked in black pants and matte black boots. And a black long coat hung lazily on his shoulders. When he spoke, his voice was slightly altered by the mask, but it unmistakably sounded like Daniel’s. Or could I be overthinking it? “And you are…?” Adrian asked, lifting a brow, clearly displeased with the interruption. The masked young man inclined his head slightly.

His lips curled into a huge smile as Hardin walked up to the two ladies, he was dressed in a pair of blue suits and his hair was pulled back in a neat undercut. He looked different from how she knew him five years ago, he looked more professional and more dashing. He didn’t look like the devil from five years ago, the devil that made her life a nightmare, the devil that snatched her life away from her. How could he look so different when he was the most evil person she has ever come across?

Finally, I dragged him back to the rooftop. Everyone at the scene gasped. It took them a while before they got over the shock and rushed over to secure the dazed patient. Even Kate had stopped crying. I wiped the blood off my hands and strode toward her. With my blood-stained hand, I slapped her hard across the face. I poured all of my anger and hatred for killing me in my last life into the slap. The force sent her staggering backward, nearly falling to the ground. Her meticulously styled hair was disheveled. The blood-stained slap mark on her face began swelling.

Victor stood beside the first as Maria approached him with a velvet box. "Your mask," she said, opening it to reveal an intricately crafted piece. "Custom made, as you requested." Victor took it without comment, examining the half-mask of burnished gold and obsidian. It was crafted to resemble a death's head—not garish or Halloween-like, but subtle and elegant, with empty eyes that would reveal nothing of the man beneath. "Perfect," he finally said, his voice low. "Victor," Maria began, hesitating. "Are you sure about tonight? We could still—"