Clayface Novels & Stories

It’s more like he is not even here. He punches me around my stomach and does it consistently for many times without me even being able to hold even one of his punch. He lands the last blow on my face and grabs my necks. He inputs his claws in my neck. I can now slowly see furs on his body. I am confused at this. “You can never win this war. Just go home, sleep and wait for your death” he draws his claws on my face aggressively and disappears, leaving me with blood pooled face. I heal almost immediately.

I roll my eyes, “You on crack? Clay hasn’t won a fight against Wolfe since, fucking never. Easy money.” I pull my wallet out of my tactical pants and pony up sixty bucks to add to the pile on the hood. The scene before us plays out much in the way I guessed. When Clay makes Wolfe drop the soda and it splatters on the pavement at his booted feet, it’s game on. My burly cousin drops the rest of his stash on the ground to free up his arms and charges at Clay. Clay laughs like a maniac during their deranged version of London Bridge Is Falling Down as they wrestle one another. A few bystanders have stopped to watch the wrestling match. I hope they don’t do anything stupid to draw more attention t

I'll make you work for another fifty years with me," a male voice appeared in the lobby. Coming out of the employee elevator, a man in an unbuttoned suit, a backpack on his shoulder, and a wonderful woody perfume that could be smelled from a distance, his calm tone of voice sounded like thunder, and he was completely different from what Catherine could expect from someone working there. He was tall, probably about six feet tall, strong, his hair was tied up in a bun on top of his head, a lumberjack-style beard incredibly well-groomed, and dark sunglasses that gave him an incredibly serious look. Maybe that was all the difference, that serious look conveyed an unparalleled sensuality. As that

He only but whimpers as I step but one step closer, "Clayton, you know that I would not fuck with you. You chose the direction yourself." Yes, the man does speak the truth, but I shall not admit my own defeat; instead, "Ya, like you have not already betrayed me." "Clayton," he tries to convince me, "You know that I have only but helped you." Now he has another thing coming if he thinks that I believe a word that he has been saying. And as my anger grows but an ounce, I walk closer to where he has been standing. And with only one retraction of my arm, I smash my fist square into his jaw. His face snaps to the left with force, and I hear him whimper as the pain shoots through his body, "You ca

I frowned and looked down at his hand struggling to push the scar face hand away from my arm but his hand didn't even move an inch. "Don't get in this, shithead." The scar face warned him calmly but he didn't seem to get back. I was about to say something but before I could the scar face pushed me away making me stumble back and landed a punch on the poor man's face, making him stumble back..he barely coped up with his steps. My breath hitched when the scar face raised his hand again to punch him but before he could I immediately gripped his arm pulling him back. He snapped his head down at me.

He walked in front of me and squatted I was surprised He was a young man with a scar on his neck But he looked like he was devilish He grinned Voice :I'm Clint and you gave me what I enjoy most for the past two days My confusion was clearly written on my face He brought up a mirror and showed me my face I gasped in pain My hair was cut off My long hair My tears fell when I saw the sight of my face As if I was a thief under jungle justice Me: what did you do to me? I said as my voice cracked and my tongue tasted the salty liquid flowing into it Clint: don't cry darling. I would have gone easy on you but I'm a rough one. I don't do nice and easy Me: what? He walked to a table and took a tablet

Charli install a bomb inside the hotel, within 2 hours I need to finish my mission because if I failed, I would explode into pieces along with those people who stayed here in the Hotel. When those Indian boys disappeared in my sight, my face automatically turned into dark and serious aura when I also realized that I am in front of my guest’s Room, which is Mr. Chen, a Chinese Businessman, and my target. I continued walking towards the door when someone blocked my way that made me stopped. It is his Bodyguards.

I see them laugh over something and not surprisingly though, but their teeth are as yellow as they've ever been. I know how much Logan pays them for weed. The least these f*ckers can do is get a dental appointment. Their breath must be stinking as always too. No wonder why Logan makes me do all of his dirty work. Especially this fourth one. The soberest man out of those four, Adam, is the first to notice me. He alerts his partners and they give up drinking. Except for Clay. Clay, or Cranky Clay as I like to refer him, is that boy whom Charlie saw me beating once. He's in his early twenties judging by his absurd behavior and nonsensical attitude and shitty body build.

Eligor says, waving back towards where I came from without bothering to look at me. "This is for Coal." I say, finally drawing his eyes to me and where I used to see resemblance to my mate, now I see nothing but glaring difference. There is no warmth, no kindness, no love, no humour or joy in the green eyes of the man in front of me, coldness and cruelty ooze out of him like tar and, as I plunge my claws into his neck, I'm half expecting his blood to run black. He gasps in shock, his hand reaching up to cover the sound but he must know it's too late as his blood, disappointingly red in colour, sprays all over my face and body.

Frank smiled sinisterly at her, advancing slowly. He wasn’t the scruffy man he was when she met him. He wore decent clothes, hid his hair under a fishing hat and wore clean boots. He could have been mistaken for any normal dad. “Lindsey! Are you still there?” Luther blasted. Lindsey swallowed, “Yeah.” “I said put it down now.” Frank ordered. Lindsey tightened her grip on the phone. “Tell me where you are now. I’m on my way.” “I’m—”