Devil Ghost Face Novels & Stories

Ginger haired Emily Hurst looked comical with her mouth hung open and hands in the air, she was obviously about to yell out something. I was only half surprised when he materialized out of thin air half a second later. This was the first time I had met the devil in daylight and I felt the hairs on my skin stand erect at his sight. His pale white skin looked almost yellowish, like someone suffering from a rare skin disease and his long dreadlocks looked even more tangled than usual. Only this time, I noticed a tattoo of a big, black cobra at his collarbone which extended all the way to his neck.

The man smirked as he pulled a chair and sat opposite me. Shit, he looks like the devil himself. He has a long scar across his face, giving him that dangerous look. “I am Alex Wilston,” he spoke, his voice holding authority and it was cold. His dirty blond hair was tossed. His eyes were black, almost like a demon was hiding behind those eyes. This man was truly evil. Something tells me he wasn't afraid to die because he didn't care who he had taken.

"You-You need to run! That's a Devil , Nat- the Devil." She finally seemed to realize that there was someone close behind her and she whirled around to face him again. He knew the picture he made standing there over her. Demon eyes glowing through the smoke and twisted black metal armor covering much of his body. His crowned helmet sported horns that curled up and back making him appear taller and infinitely more terrifying. He didn't really need armor, but he wore it anyway for occasions such as this. He enjoyed the way her throat bobbed as she tried to swallow past her own fear. She held up her trembling blade against him and his head tilted as he smiled down at her.

“Oh wow, come this way to the club house.” We both followed Cherry to the back of the club and up the stairs to the second floor. The club house reminded me of a very over lavish bachelor penthouse. As we walked through the door we were met by a small petite blonde, with light green blue eyes, and looking very sexy even for her size. “Hi Mr. Baphomet, Mr. Demogorgon, my name is Tequila and Angel will be right back with the cigarettes. So, are there any drinks that either of you would like to start off with this evening?”

He looked at me like I had done something worse than spill a drink. Then he walked away. I blinked after him, still holding my stupid handkerchief. “What the hell… Who does he think he is?” I scoffed, louder this time. “I said I was sorry.” What more does he want? A public apology? A press conference? Arrogant bastard. I turned back to my table, forcing a smile. One of my friends leaned forward. “Petra… are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost.” “A ghost?” another one laughed. “Please. She looks like she wants to fight someone.”

Moreover her hair was tough black and hands were fully tattooed with strange pictures. Other than this her eyes was no more doe-eyed like an innocent one but it was a beady black, shiny, impenetrable obsidian eyes. The most terrifying feature of her was the tattoed figure of a boy face in her neck. That tattoed face had some similarity with our cute little Abigal's face. "Abarat! Abarat! Abarat. Come here", she roared more loudly like a exquisitely horrid witch. While roaring the tattoed face on her neck was exposing and one can clearly say it was Abigal's face.

But none of her friends or colleagues was so childish they'd send a masked delivery guy dressed like a hitman just to scare her—unless… The thought was too unsettling, so she firmly pushed it to the back of her mind, licking her suddenly dry lips as she forced the words out of her parched throat, "who are you?" "My friend sent me," Ghostface replied, offering no other details. Camille didn't know what was more disturbing—the dead look in his glassy eyes or the fact that she couldn't see his lips move beneath the freaky mask whenever he spoke.

The Earl shrieked in wonder, "You call her a maiden! She is no maiden. She's a thief! A mercenary, unbelievable thief!" He continued barking while he walked backwards away from them, "She handed her drink to the Earl of Vetcom, said things too daring for any normal Scottish woman and stole food. You would not call such person a mai…" He found himself staggering suddenly, noticing he was just at the edge of a ditch, one he didn't notice because he was too busy shouting. While he found himself falling into it, a hand quickly gripped around his hard and tight. Gently, that same hand pulled him up, straight back to his balance. And it was the devil herself.

Whether from their mouth or other parts of their body. They are just as cold as ice and can't even raise their faces to stare at him as he terrifies them to the core. They never believed just a man could have such a menacing aura and that one's face can look so much like that of the devil. It is something they felt can only be seen in the movies. But now they are seeing it with their very eyes. It terrifies them.

He was joined by the physician from the main palace. As soon as they removed the last needles from her elbow, she opened her eyes slowly. Lydia weeped for joy as she gave her water to drink. Heavy footsteps were heard in the corridor. The door was pushed open at once and she saw, the Devil.