Enderman Face Novels & Stories

There are faces with Brutal, gashed, and swollen faces; wide gaping mouths, which opened for the last time to utter the death-shriek, and are now fixed forever in rigid agony; jagged, discolored teeth, sunken cheeks, knitted brows, dead, sodden eyes, awful contortions, ghastly smiles, hideous leers, faces of men and faces of women, faces of the young and faces of the old, faces which reek with the slime of years of vice and misery and despair. He pinched his nose when a smell of a decaying body entered his nostril. He walked to the door and tried to open it. It won't budge a bit because it is locked from the outside. He was taken aback when it clicked. "Good afternoon," the embalmer greeted

"T-this…" "So you finally shifted?" Eman inquired, not giving a f*ck about the horn. "Just the other night... aren't you afraid of me?" Eman placed his hand above my head to gently play with my hair. "I told you before: I'll always like you no matter who and what you become. Even if you turn into a complete monster, I'd still be here, adoring you from head to toe," he replied with such sincerity in his eyes. Even if it was for a second, I caught sight of Eman's aura that screamed how much he cherished me, which made my lips curve into an uncontrollable grin.

The men around them laughed and exchanged opinions as if witnessing something novel. Emma looked at the woman. The woman curled up, her clothes torn and barely covering her body. Her face displayed bruises and wounds of various shades, some still bleeding. Sensing someone staring at her, she raised her head. Her face was disfigured, with a swollen eye, a broken nose, bruised cheeks, and a bleeding mouth. She was utterly unrecognizable. Anyone seeing such a terrifying face would run away in horror. Emma remained composed, gazing quietly at the wounds on the woman's face, a growing anger growing inside her.

The Ember Ghost opened his mouth and showed his sharp teeth before lowering her mouth to the exposed woman’s neck. The crowd watched in silence as the Ember Ghost appeared to suck the woman’s blood. The woman’s arms flailed weakly but her face looked serene, if not enjoying the experience. Then, the woman’s expression slowly changed into pain and she grimaced. She placed her arms around the Ember Ghost’s head weakly before dropping them weakly to her side. Then, the woman’s limp body slid out of view leaving the Ember Ghost standing. He wiped the remaining red stains from his mouth with a swipe of his arm before disappearing within the smoke that blew from across the float.

Only one person had that number. I answered. "Isabella, something happened at the theater," the other party said in a low voice. It was Dante Capone, Vito's eldest son. He had remained behind to monitor the situation. My fingers tightened around the phone. "Tell me." "The Don entered the private box," Dante said. "He removed the mask." I held my breath. "And?" Dante sounded unsettled. "He smiled." "What?" "He smiled," Dante repeated. "Not just a smile. He looked almost delirious."

He said indifferently, "I know him, a lackey I took in ancient times." All the warriors on the earth were shocked. They didn't expect that No Face had followed the Immortal Emperor in ancient times. The face of the Immortal Emperor Antiquity was dark. He was ashamed and angry. He had been deceived by the traitor. Seeing that the Immortal Emperor had recognized him, No Face was full of joy. He silently opened his mouth and closed it. Judging from the shape of his mouth, he said, "My Lord, please save me."

He tore off his mask immediately and revealed his face. He had the face of a woman which was very beautiful, but his body, however, was that of a man. "I've been sent by the king to deal with you two and return the groom to his room," said the female-faced man. None of us responded to him, but we were all on guard. Darian then nodded to his brother. It seemed he had scaled the intruder's power at that moment and realized that Demian could easily deal with him. "Take care of this," he said to Demian and then turned to me, "Elva, let's go."

"But how could he be so sure that things would work out? I thought he didn't trust you." This causes Sam to fall into a thoughtful silence. Before the demon can respond, a dark silhouette begins to come closer and closer to the two. It is the driver from earlier. He is disheveled, bearded, and full of scars. "Wow," says Shandra. The human skin begins to crumble, and in its place, the beautifully-bodied yellow-eyed redhead emerges once again. "Yeah, I prefer that version too." "All set for phase two?" asks Sam. "But of course," he says, smiling directly at Shandra. "And you, I think it's good to get ready."

Auren looked at everyone. "Whatever happens, do not let it touch Emily." Emily frowned. "Why me?" Auren looked at her. "Because you're the only one who can kill it." The shadow stepped into the light. Emily froze. It had no face. No eyes. No mouth. Yet she could hear it breathing. Then slowly, a face appeared. Emily's face. But older. Much older. Scarred. Broken. Emily stared. "Another version of me." Auren shook his head.

Often very attractive with yellow eyes but need to be constantly on the go, kind of like puppies. Then there’s vampires. Pale, elegant, weirdly posh, intelligent, bloodsuckers. And who can forget high elves? Tall, beautiful, clear eyes, long lives, connections to nature, natural leaders. Self important bastards to be honest. Like most fairies, I’m on the short side with pointed ears and colourful hair. Mine’s purple actually. But otherwise, I look like my older brother, Russell, and my mother. Slender, pale, grey eyes. Russell’s just me with dark hair and a growth spurt. Normals don’t really have a “look” but if you look at my dad, a middle aged balding white man, you’d say he’s normal looki