Novel & Cerita Death Eater Mask Snape

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.

He confusely stares at the man. "Its a healing water. I supposed you needed it, that's why I brought it with me." The man said stared at him too meaningfully. "No need to thank me. Just rest. An hour is enough for you to regain your strength." *a year later* "Ahhhh.." shouted of the men who's body parts mutilated brutally. The mask man, cutting its enemies like a piece of paper using his swords. His whole body soaked with so much blood of his kills. His eyes that was evident in his mask were blank and lifeless. The aura he emitted was terrible yet magnificent. Hundreds of enemies laid lifeless beneath his feet while he stood above it. His stares reached a far, the wind blew as the atmosphere

Drawing a smile behind the façade of her excited and jumping soul, it slowly opens, as the death reapers appear, and immediately greet her. “Yo!” Wearing a smile that does not mean gladness, but more on a paid mission and necessary steps that he should take. The reaper that appears in front of her, who wears unusual clothes, yet rings the very world that reflected unto the original, and just like this world where she exists is playing the same game that no one of them could ever escape from but holds the difference and uncanny ways than theirs. He wears a mask that somehow imitates a mummy, yet not and the scythe that shines with its material that is made from gold, silver, gems, and bronze.

I said. I examined my attacker. His ragged black hair came down the sides of his head like knives. His scowling brow lorded over his eyes and shrouded the skin around them in darkness—indeed, I could not see the edges of his eyes at all, only their blood red irises, burning with quiet rage. The lower half of his face was covered by a black leather mask, three metal spikes protruding out of it in a vertical line. The blades tied to his wrists were long enough to reach his ankles—it was one of these, no doubt, that had been at my throat. Their straps covered his wrists and palms, but left his fingers and thumbs free. His clothes were black rags. It occurred to me that Sven matched the descript

Wearing a mask for a photograph was quite inappropriate. So, Duke raised his hands and took off the black mask he had on. The cameraman crouched down and took a photograph. He felt a penetrating gaze sweep over him. A long scar stretched across the face of the man in the camera, making his face look terrifying and ferocious. Even his eyes shone with a cold glare that was as sharp as daggers. ‘These eyes... This man looks like someone I saw on TV. The leader of Black Party, Terry North, had the same eyes! He was even dubbed the Eye of Death by netizens.’

She looked at the computer screen Hopes digital face was flickering like a dying candle the little girl was crying she pressed her hands against the inside of the glass screen trying to break into the real world. The elevator at the end of the hall opened with a sound a tall figure stepped out he was taller than the Dean he wore a long black leather coat that looked like a surgical apron he did not have a human face instead he wore a smooth silver mask with a single red glowing line for eyes he carried a long thin case made of white bone. The Great Surgeon walked toward June every step he took made the computers in the room scream the screens turned to gray static the lights hummed loudly un

"That's... impossible. She was dead!" "I saw the funeral. I saw the coffin —" "Lumira... the White Witch... has she truly returned?" Selene's carefully woven mask cracked visibly, though she forced it back into place with the desperate speed of a woman clinging to a cliff edge. She clasped Ivy's hand tighter, her fingernails digging sharply into the girl's skin, drawing a wince that Ivy swallowed rather than display. Selene's lips curved in a final, viciously false sweetness.

The players eyes widened in terror, as the three figures emerged from the shadows. Medusa stood tall, her hair writhing like snakes, each strand tipped with venomous fangs. Her eyes glowed like embers, piercing through the darkness. A stone-like mask covered her face, except for her full, crimson lips, curved into a wicked smile. The Reaper loomed beside her, his presence like a shadow cast over the land. His eyes were empty sockets, his skin gray and decaying. A black hood covered his face, and his tattered cloak billowed behind him. His blood streaked soulcutter was held firmly to his chest as though passing a silent warning.

The truth was buried under silk and champagne. I was just trying not to spill red wine on my borrowed dress. That's when I saw him. He wasn't dancing. He wasn't drinking. He was standing by the terrace doors, a wolf mask covering the top half of his face, watching the crowd like he was calculating exactly how much it would cost to buy them all. His suit was charcoal grey. His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass. And his eyes — even through the mask — were the coldest blue I'd ever seen.

It wanted to destroy anyone who wouldn't accept me. He stepped out of the shadows then, his movements deliberate, confident. The half mask he wore was black and regal, with faint fang-like carvings along the jawline. I glanced at the serpent coiled lazily around his neck again and swallowed. This was my first time standing before an Apex Initiate. I had longed for the Apex my whole life, but now, faced with one so close to it, the reality was overwhelming. He was like a dream made of flesh. One I had to wake from before it consumed me.