Bloodhound Without Mask Novels & Stories

The man that stood in front and was about to say something had his head rolling on the floor after the woman in the red cloak swang her sword. The hunters looked at her and then to the body that slowly fell on the ground with blood spilling all over the place. “Tsk.” “You are too angry about that news?” A man in a ram mask entered the abandoned hall where the hunters reside for the time being. They watched the man walk near their head. It was the first time they had seen him. There is a tattoo on his neck— though it was a little covered by his clothes, it was visible to the hunters who were trained to observe such things.

He was in his late twenties. "You are back, I thought you would stay longer." The mask guy said, on his left arm was the tattoo of the Corpse flower, the tattoo was glowing and moving as if it was breathing. He removed his mask and smiled at his mother. "I couldn't stay for another day son, you know me." Adelena answered and dropped her empty glass cup on the dining table. "Besides, I have made a deal with the hunters." "I don't trust the hunter's mum."

At that moment, he jerked his head upwards as he shot a silver needle out. A man dressed in black stood on a large tree twenty meters ahead, his face obscured by a mask. The person dogged the needle nimbly, like an agile monkey. He hopped quickly down from the tree and soon landed on the ground. James stared at the masked man in front of him. He could sense a strong bloodlust from him. It was an aura that he had never encountered before. Someone who possessed such an intense murderous aura was someone whose hands were stained with blood.

They would arrive at the Cliff of Sorrow if they ran another 10 more yards. They could only run toward the sides if they wanted to but there was a huge boulder and below this huge boulder was the Ten Absolutes trap array. Even if they moved toward the side, they would arrive at the border soon. This forced them into a desperate situation where there was no place to hide. The figure slowly became clearer through the white mist. Their hearts dropped the moment they saw the person clearly as the worst situation had occurred. The masked man was holding onto the cyclops canine’s leash as the animal breathed heavily with his long tongue hanging out of his mouth.

It’s one thing to hear stories or be trained, but nine is too young to witness what my boys saw today. Tristan exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching. “The masked man got in. He was fast. Strong. Not some random rogue. Trained. Dangerous. We tried to hold him back by throwing things at him. Using anything we could as a weapon. Dad fought him to stop him.” Samuel’s hands dug into my arms. “But that man—he was different.” I forced myself to keep my voice even. “What do you mean?” Samuel took a shaky breath. “He was a black wolf with dark red streaks. But he had scars.” His brown eyes locked onto mine, filled with something that made my stomach twist. “Claw marks. Across his muzzle.”

I never did scream— or shift, and he had kissed me after. I turn and start to run. I don't know why I'm running but every blood cell in my body demands that I get as far away from him as possible. I know I don't get far enough when I slam into someone but before I can jerk away, the person is grabbing my waist, keeping me stable while his scent breaks me out of the muddled state my brain was trying to drown itself in. Cedarwood and spices. I slowly look up, realizing that Damien Bloodhound is staring down at me— and he looks very angry.

Once he was close enough, I jumped on his shoulders, trapping his head with my legs and pulling at the horns. When he held me up, trying to strangle me, I realized he was not mortal because dark hollows replaced his eyes, and he had no face. If I took off this mask, he would be dead. I held on tightly to his horns as he staggered with me and tried to pull me off his head. I held on tightly, pulling at his mask. He groaned and hit me on trees to get me off him. I yelped but refused to let go. I pulled and pulled until the mask came off his head. I crashed to the ground with it and watched him as he staggered about, disappearing like smoke. I groaned and lay there on the floor, breathing heavi

He mumbles, and then he shudders as if he is freezing, and an expression of pain flashes across his face. Even in my current position, spooned by over two hundred tons of merman, I can tell Hayden is coming down with a high fever. His skin is slick with sweat, and he shakes every second. If he was in his human form I would craddle him, and let him rest his head in my lap. The bushes rattle behind us, and I turn my head to stare at people wearing wolf masks. Feathers point out from every corner around the disguise, and I narrow my eyes.

It was Draco. Draco stepped out of the cluster of bushes, his face obscured by a crimson mask. Blood smeared across his lips, and pieces of torn flesh clung to his teeth. A primal instinct had taken over, his feral nature no longer hidden beneath the veneer of humanity. My heart lurched, and a gasp escaped my lips as I instinctively took a few steps backward.

“We haven’t caught the gunman, but they are actively searching for him now. Can you give me any description?” “He wore a mask. But his left eye was different somehow. There was a dent or something.”