Dr Doom Face Without Mask Novels & Stories

The FaceTime with Master X is still ongoing, and the man is currently smiling callously. "Good job, son" he muttered, and Roonie clicked red, ending the call. He threw the phone on the ground and placed his black sneaker on it, crushing it at his feet. Rook couldn't form a sentence throughout, just staring like he was stripped of his voice and power. Roonie returned his mask to his face before smirking, looking more ominous. "This is only just a face reveal. Buy yourself a graveyard before you plan your next attack, cos I'll be fuçking killing you" he muttered, taking a quick look at Rook's bleeding arm before turning his back.

Someone came out from the bushes and started clapping his hands , His face was covered with a mask and a hoddie .I could not see who it was . Drake was also shocked and immediately got up and started moving toward the man . The Stanger slowly removed his hoddie cap and he started to seem familiar to me . The Stanger was looking start into my eyes .His eyes where red .I could not make out if it was because of crying or because of anger .

His mask! His eyes flung open immediately, the first thing he did was to lower his head, traumatized that he was in public without his mask. His irrational fear of being seen without his mask had grown over the years, it became his biggest weakness, and Don Romero was fully aware of that. “Don't panic, it's just us. And we know exactly what you look like.” Don Romero chuckled, watching the fear in his eyes grow. Mason scoffed at this, yearning for the permission to blow Noah's head off.

I spun around. Dr. Roth stood in the corridor, still wearing his surgical scrubs under a white lab coat. But his surgical mask was gone now, and I could see his face fully for the first time. My blood turned to ice. I knew that face. Not well, but I knew it. From photographs in Liam's study. From the files Victoria had shown us. "No," I whispered. "That's impossible."

Drakon. He looks like a demon risen from hell. His clothes are shredded—the tactical vest hanging by threads, his black shirt torn to reveal the blood-smeared wolf tattoo. His face is a mask of soot and fresh blood. He isn't wearing a helmet. His hair whips in the wind, wild and feral. He isn't holding the handlebars with both hands. His right hand grips the throttle. His left hand holds a submachine gun. An MP5. "He's alive!" Nikos screams, his voice cracking. "Kill him! Shoot him!"

With his other hand, he reached up and slowly removed the Ghostface mask. My eyes widened. What the fuck???

“Okay, fine! But why were you arguing? And why did you murmur my name earlier?” “I don’t know. Don’t ask me, I’m frustrated.” Doom still continued to cover his face with the pillow. What’s happening to him? I looked at him with a confused face. My eyes went to his burning-like earlobes. They are really red! “Hey, Doom! Get up! You’re burning red!” I shrugged him but he didn’t move. “Doom, I’m serious! Show me your face or else—” My eyes widened in surprise as he leaned his face on mine. “Or else what?”

He chuckled, looking all cool and confident about his existence and life. "You know what, my lovely Lori Payne. I'm actually on my way to my Doctor, I'm going to let him fix my f*cked up face. I'll kill him if he don't 'cause the first doctor who tried to fix my f*cking face but he f*cking ruined it. But since he ruined my face, I get to ruin his f*cked up life." He laughed and shakes his head. "I f*cking killed that motherf*cker, serves him right, right?" He sniffed and rubs his wrist on the side of his knees which is a weird to see.

Don't make any noise! The warning didn't do much good. When the door let out a long moan and tipped over the chair with a noisy stamp, everyone screamed. The man who approached had no features. He wore a black cloth mask from the neck to the base of his nose, and covered the rest with black robes that stretched in a large hood over his head. The eyes were narrow like those of a snake, and a poisonous flash had run through her black irises as she analyzed each face in front of her. He stopped his gaze on mine, and all the doubt that remained about that brutal demonstration of power faded with the wrinkles that formed around his eyes. Even without being sure, I could swear that a smile formed

I drag it closer while he watches with molten irises. Carefully, I climb on top. I straighten his collar while being very much aware of the heat in his gaze. For the first time, I am close enough to see every defensive detail of a face that shouldn’t be this beautiful. His lips are full for a man so severe, a deep shade of pink lips are contrasts to his darkness. Drogo’s brows are thick, just like the braids in his hair. Is there anything hollower than his cheekbones and somehow, his nose is straight despite all the wars he has fought. I didn’t know he wore earrings but now, I see it at this closeness.