Devil Real Face Novels & Stories

I snapped and raised my arm to hold his chest at bay. I was hoping to keep my sensitive spots away from his weapon of choice, but I was stunned when I saw his face. That unfamiliar face of his seemed to spasm bizarrely, looking as if waves were splashing. His features even looked as though it was moving around! It seemed that Dicken’s original face was about to be revealed upon closer look, and it looked as if two sets of facial features were competing for territory. It was such a terrifying sight, like a live show of Resident Evil was happening in front of me, leaving me stunned just then.

His dark hair falls just past his collar, and his face is carved like something that should be illegal, or wait… something I alone should be allowed to own because it’s so damn gorgeous I have never seen anything like it before. High cheekbones, a mouth made for sin, and eyes the colour of wet slate that look straight through my clothes, through my skin, straight into the desperate, overworked, and underfucked mess of me. This man is beautiful the way a blade is beautiful—sharp, cold, and promising blood, it’s the kind of beauty that makes your cunt clench before your brain even catches up. The devil, if the devil had decided to show up looking like every filthy fantasy you never admitted to

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.

His eyes wide with amusement, arousal, and lust. Smirking, I mumbled, “trust me. I’d rather hold a cactus than hold you.” I wanted to be intimidating, but what happened next astounded me. The Devil laughed. He threw his head back laughing, clutching his stomach with tears building up on the side of his eyes. My cheeks were on fire, my entire body was trembling in anger, humiliation. I turned my back on him to hide my embarrassment and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m... sorry…” he said in between laughs. He didn’t sound sorry at all. He takes fun in making me mad at him, he’s turning me into a laughingstock. “Ren…”

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.

I warn him yet again, my hands busy turning me to Picasso with a contour brush to my face re-applying my smeared make up, I threaten him with a smile on my face as I practice the best version of my fake smiles to give to the audience when I leave this bathroom and head back out to the party. It really does feel like making a deal with the devil, the atmosphere becomes quiet and dingy, I can hear a pin drop at this point, the hairs on my arms and neck are as erect as if electric charges had passed through them or something. " Okay okay I hear you, just stop with the mention of death it's too gruesome for me," that is so ironic coming from the Devil himself. I honestly cannot picture the Devil

He was missing half his face. His jaw barely intact. But somehow—he escaped. Zayden made no move to chase after him. He simply exhaled, watching as the disfigured man disappeared into the shadows. His voice was calm, measured, deadly. “Run all you want.” A slow smirk curled his lips. “I’ll find you again.” And when that day came— There wouldn’t be any distractions. There wouldn’t be any escapes. Only a slow, painful end Back to the Present: The Past Comes for Hema

“I said, my eyes aren't pink”. The devil says smiling lightly, it’s a weird smile. His eyes curve closed and his mouth lifts lightly at the edges. It’s a clear imitation of a smile, not an actual smile. Scary bastard. “They're lilac-colored, and I'm not the devil”, he adds. “Lilac looks like pink so it definitely is pink”, the bastard thinks he can confuse me, I'm drunk, not stupid. Heh. —-

“I have to find out who this woman is and why she’s pretending to be you.” Laura moved around the desk to see better. Scott paused the video, rewound it to the part where the woman’s face showed clearly. He played it again, Laura watched the woman walk down the hospital hall. She stopped outside George’s room. Then went inside. “That’s not me.” Laura knew Scott already knew that but she had to say it. “I know it’s not you.” Scott’s voice was hard. “But she looks just like you, Laura. She has the same hair, same height, same face, everything.”

But somehow, I always pictured a balding old man with a pot belly caused by the cheap whiskey he drowns himself in every night. But I couldn’t be more wrong. The devil isn’t horned or hideous. He’s tall, sculpted, and terrifyingly beautiful. Power clings to him like a second skin beneath the flawless cut of his suit. His face is sharp, symmetrical and too perfect to belong to someone mortal, too perfect for the blood he spills, too perfect for the cruelty he yields, and his icy blue eyes can bring even the bravest man to his knees. A cold prickling sensation erupts over my entire body like a thousand tiny needles stabbing my skin