Erin Moriarty Ruined Her Face Novels & Stories

As we stand there, the silence is heavy, filled with the weight of what could have been. Charlotte's face is a grim evidence to the harrowing ordeal she's endured. Bruises bloom across her cheeks and forehead, a sharp contrast to her otherwise pale complexion. Her eyes, once fierce and unyielding, now look hollow and sunken, ringed with dark circles from the trauma. The cut on her lower lip is bandaged, her head is swathed in bandages and her left eye is swollen, partially closed. Her hair, usually meticulously styled, hangs limp and matted with dried blood at the scalp.

Morris served me a plate of juicy fruits and turned to me before she stopped cold in her tracks, her eyes wide on my face. "What's wrong?" Her eyes looked shocked before she quickly covered it up with a small smile on her face. I knew something was terribly wrong. At first I panicked and searched all over myself for something amiss but nothing was wrong. My skin was white, very white, whiter than Morris's and the strands of hair on my neck was black, midnight black in colour. I looked up at Morris in question. What had gotten her so shocked? "What's happening?" I kept asking, even though I knew I wouldn't be getting answers from Morris anytime soon.

Morana was silent for a while, and when the light in her eyes returned, she looked around her surroundings more clearly. There was a smile on her lips after that. She feels better now. Slowly, Morana stood up leaning on the edge of the sink. Her head hurts, but it's okay... When Morana looked at herself again in the mirror, she saw the same woman staring back at her, but this time there was an additional scar on her forehead. There was a lump the size of an egg that was blue and slightly bloody on her left temple. Morana winced at the sight of her own reflection and the fresh wounds on her face.

She was trembling in fear, and her gaze flickered. She said, "I-I don't know what you're talking about!" "Huh?" Anthony couldn't care less to make small talks with her. He had a ferocious expression as he sliced the tip of the knife through her face. Tammy immediately screamed in pain. She said, "I'll talk! I'll talk! But please don't ruin my face!" Anthony replied, "Speak." Tammy glared at Margot. She wanted to deny it. But her life would be ruined if she were to deny it now and get her face disfigured. She definitely couldn't die at Margot's hands.

On camera, however, they transformed. “What is it?” Serena asked. “Ms. Morales, I heard Beatrice got into some trouble.” Serena blinked. “Beatrice?” That arrogant woman always seemed untouchable, brushing off scandals as though they were mosquito bites. For her to be in real trouble was unexpected. Miriam’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Her face was half-disfigured. She’s been losing her mind at home. She hasn’t dared to step outside.” For a moment, the image surprised Serena. Then she remembered: Alexander had orchestrated something against Beatrice earlier.

Her dirty, ragged clothes were the same ones when I last saw her and hung loosely on her now skin and bone figure. All this time locked away had made her lose a lot of weight. We should have put more effort into looking for her. I should have trusted my dreams and my gut feeling about her being alive. How could Morris fake his own mate's death and leave her suffering here like this? -"I like your new hairstyle. White suits you." Charlotte compliments on the white hair strands I got from healing the pack. -"I don't understand. Morris... He said you died..." I say, trying to go over everything that happened till now.

Regina’s POV The phone lay destroyed at my feet, its screen shattered into a spider web of black lines and dead pixels. Morgana sat back in the rear seat, breathing hard from our violent struggle. Her perfectly styled hair was now disheveled, several dark strands hanging loose around her flushed face. She examined her broken nails with obvious annoyance, like they were the most important casualty of our fight.

taking a minute to breathe Morana slowly moved to the sink, when her eyes connected with her reflection in the mirror she gasped, unable to recognize the woman staring back at her. She just noticed that he was stark naked, her hair was in a state not suitable to even be called a bird nest, Morana resembled a ragged doll, maybe even worse, her lips were swollen and red and she had deep purple hickeys that looked more like a wild cat had gotten to her. Not to mention the bright pink claw marks that were scattered all over her body.

Where was my need to break this woman now that she seemed battered and beaten with no guarantee that she could be mended? Where was Nico Moretti now?

In the following second, Morrison quit battling and just jerked two times. "Two." "One." As Jack's commencement finished, the consuming flares were smothered as of now. Smoke was seen drifting out of Morrison's scorched and dark carcass on the ground. Contrasted with different carcasses that had been executed, Morrison's cadaver was not as nauseating. It was simply lying unobtrusively on the ground like a piece of charcoal. Be that as it may, in light of the fact that his body had been scorched for too short a period, there was still blood streaming out of the broke injury. As a result of the enormous measure of water misfortune, it was at this point not unmistakable as Morrison's body. All