Devil Masks Mga Nobela at Kwento

For him there is nothing sincere, let alone love, there is only playing and having fun. Then what is even more disgusting is that he is also a chameleon who can transform into anything. If you get a target that is fairly difficult then he will transform into someone else. It depends on the personality of the person being targeted. So don't be surprised if he can act like an innocent person. Sometimes Gerand thought his younger cousin was more suited to be an actor than a CEO. That's right, Deny Felixa is also a CEO just like him. His attitude was unstoppable. Deny was even more of a jerk than Gerand Yosefa in that disguise.

“People-eating, s-soul-sucking being without a soul.” “That she is,” I agreed hoarsely. “She would ne-never smell this good,” he breathed in shallowly. “Demons r-rarely do.” I kept quiet, forcing back the tears rising in my throat. “They are repulsive,” Revandrel rasped. “D-Demons. Disgusting as rotten meat.” “I think so too,” I whispered. “The Eldareths are th-their leaders. I swear the de-devil himself learns from them.” He groaned in a low voice. “I ha-hate them all.”

Her reaction was immediate. Her eyes widened in terror as she stared at the image. Slowly, shakily, she lifted her hand and pointed at it. “T-th-is… h-he… i-is a d-dev-il,” she stuttered. “B-b-ad… m-man.” A chill crawled down my spine. “Yes,” I nodded firmly. “He is a bad man. Have you ever seen him with your daughter?” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked around the room, panic flooding her face.

Not all devils are in the fiery pit of hell. Some walk among us, cloaked in shadows, draped in silence, leaving devastation in their wake. They don't need flames to burn; a cold glance, a cruel word or a broken trust is enough to ignite him. And that's exactly what Dante was. Stone-cold. A predator in human flesh. A nightmare with a calm, handsome mask. His heart was a void, mercy went to die, and his eyes promised pain sharper than any blade. He didn't just ruin lives_he devoured them, slowly and cruelly, until that remained were echoes of despair.

I swipe the lipstick across my mouth in one smooth stroke, meeting her eyes in the reflection of my compact mirror. "It’s like you’re.." "The devil?" I ask, snapping the mirror shut. "Maybe."

However, he was not for her and had been playing with her to get what he wanted all along. It had been awful seeing him with someone she thought was her friend. It did not startle Janice when it happened, since she knew he would eventually leave like the others. She had prepared for the day he'd say the same things others had said. Though it hurts, she was glad she didn't give herself to him. Because that would have been the worst. She wouldn't be able to look him in the eyes, neither would she be able to stare at her supposed friend. Yet, the person she had willingly given herself was the devil himself.

After a few seconds of eye-to-eye battle, he still maintained his silence, leaving Don Basco with no choice but to break the deafening silence between them. “Am I right? What do you think? (Am I, right? What do you think?)” Don Basco questioned; his lips painted with the image of the devil's grin. Without Don Basco's knowledge, the real devil was the young man in front of him—a devil who is hiding in human flesh with an innocent face, waiting for the right moment to attack his enemy and make them feel what hell is like.

Marcellus’ emotions are not that easy to understand. He rarely changes the expression of his face. But, changes in his mood are clearly visible on his skin. The runes and pentagrams on his forearms and temples are almost invisible when his emotions are in control. His eyes are of steel grey colour. His eyes morph into black pits with black cracks netting around his eyes as his anger grows. When Aralyn screamed murder and insulted him in Avesta dungeons, his rising anger was evident because of obsidian runes and pentagrams which ridged and rippled on his forearms and temples. As his anger flared up, his diabolic insignia morphed from black to ember and cracks of fire crested and resurfaced on

Till he was just the breathing silhouette Sebastian had seen. Sebastian knows because he had felt the same. The day of Sarah’s death, he had felt a rage higher than a tower. He lost consciousness of every sense of morality that he had even pulled his gun scaring the kids that stood just where his daughter had left. He recalled the feeling of emptiness when he held lifeless Sarah on the ground, such that he had even wished a truce with the devil. If only it worked that way. So when Sebastian laid his eyes on the man, he knew exactly how he felt. A broken father.

He chuckles grimly, his lips stretching diabolically to release a dark grin as he leers in, “You? Do you dare dream of getting rid of me after the vow that binds us? I flush with embarrassment and he rescinds to relish in my pensive state. Shoving his elbow into the top of Mortiz’s seat and fisting his hand against his jaw, he assumes a tilt of his head and cunningly smiles at me. It’s not particularly a beautiful expression a Vampire should make. But…I gulp with turmoil. It’s a whole world different when it’s an undisputed beauty like this doing the staring. It should make anyone wring with dread as those fiery eyes are predatory and nightmarish. Devon’s eyes are very beautifully brimmed wi