Erin Moriarty Ruined Her Face Novels & Stories

That every time I closed my eyes I saw the tortured face of that man who looked like he was probably going to beg for death after what happened to him? After she was done setting my hair into waves, Madam Loretta applied a little bit of makeup—some lipstick and mascara—then she also picked out my dress. The whole process was a bit infantilizing, but I was at the very best an unwanted, uninvited guest, and even that was very much of a stretch.

I couldn't remember much of what happened after that. Then the next morning, my world fell apart. The picture was everywhere. Turned out i was so drunk and had taken off my clothes, including my bra. And Louisiana has taken a picture of my boobs. People passed it around like it was entertainment. Every time I walked into a room, I could feel eyes following me. Whispers trailed behind me in the hallways. Some people laughed openly while others pretended not to. The humiliation was unbearable. Louisiana swore she had no idea how the photo got out.

There was a horrible expression on her face. “Your plan failed again, Young Lord York.” “How is this bastard so lucky?!” “He provoked this many people already! He even embarrassed the Maiden herself, but he’s still in one piece!” “Even Murphy and the princess of The Empire of the Sun that Never Sets got completely beat up!” “Morgan didn’t even show a hint of respect toward Murphy!” “What’s going on here?!” “What the hell is Morgan trying to do?!”

Damien met me at the door in a black shirt, sleeves rolled up. “Dinner’s ready,” he said. “We should talk about the past.” My stomach dropped. “What past?” He poured wine and handed me a glass. “Three years ago I fell in love with a woman online. She called herself S. We talked every night for months. Then she vanished the same night the Hart scandal broke. I’ve never found her.” I took the glass with steady hands even though my heart was screaming. “Tragic story. What does that have to do with me?”

I know he is already gone but the pain that he caused lingers and continues to ruin my life. “Burn in hell… Burn in hell… Burn in hell” I said while still tearing his face and when I got tired. I gasped for air to breathe and stopped. His face is totally gone in the picture, and I noticed my hand is bleeding while still holding the piece of the broken glass, and when I saw his face was gone. I smiled. I walked to the kitchen with my bleeding hand and feet. I can feel the floor slippery because of my blood but I don’t care. I can feel my hand getting sticky because of the blood that continuously flows in my hand. I wiped my face and felt my own blood on my face.

The change in her demeanor was immediate; her face paled, and her eyes widened in shock and fear. "Morana, what is it?" I asked, my voice edged with concern. She didn't speak right away. Instead, she turned the phone towards me, her hand shaking. On the screen was a video—a video of her stabbing Charlotte in the darkness of her room. The sight was horrifying, and the memory of that traumatic event was captured in chilling clarity. My mind raced as I tried to process what I was seeing. Someone has the video of Morana killing Charlotte. Who is it?

With a bruise on his jaw already beginning to form, a cut on his face, and bloodied knuckles, he realizes what he’s done. Morrigan coughs, breaking the silence and attracting everyone's attention. Slowly, and painfully, she forces herself onto all fours, and then onto unsteady feet. She looks even worse than Oskar, with a black eye forming, a split lip, and bleeding from her nose. Still, she spreads her feet shoulder width apart and raises her hands into fists, meeting her uncle's eyes. “Am I allowed to eat breakfast? Or would you like to keep going?” she asks, loud enough so that everyone watching can hear.

The drive back to the estate felt longer than the two hours it had taken on the way. The fog clung to the coastal road like a shroud, swallowing the headlights and turning the world into a narrow tunnel of asphalt and silence. Harrison’s hands stayed tight on the wheel, knuckles pale. I stared straight ahead, the investigator’s words echoing in my skull on repeat: paid for with a card registered to a Diana Moreau-Voss. I gripped my knees so hard my nails bit through.

Her moods changed from angry to downright irate when he came to Jon Moretti – he couldn’t remembered the last time he’d seen her smile a real smile. “It worked,” she beamed, spreading her elbows behind her head as she leaned back into the chair. “The failed abduction worked.” “It also took out two of our guys. Markus is in hospital with a pretty serious head injury, Alexis.” Beady eyes dipped to the floor as anger flashed across her face. “I-I’m glad it worked though.”

Charlotte couldn’t even see any flaws in her face, despite the fact that she was standing in front of her. “Actually, you can still see a slight scar under bright lights…” Lorraine patted her face. Her limpid eyes looked very pleased. “However, a few more rounds of dermatological care and maintenance and my face will return to its former, perfect glory. Sorry, Carlie, your efforts in manipulating that horrible friend of yours to destroy my face have gone to waste. It also caused Zach to lose a lot of money. Sorry to disappoint you.” “Well…” The corners of Charlotte’s lips twitched.