Ghostface Billy Loomis Novels & Stories

The ranging wind would gulp their shelters to trenches where it belongs and leave them stranded of a home of abode. Billy at least had a value in his wild world . He is more of old funny fellow with white hairs bleaching, a glass which he uses to see things afar, nose to sniff. When he does the sniffing one would practically look agitated at how old billy sniffs like a nosing creature nevertheless he was never a creep or knave.

I run to the door and fling it open. The moment I see him, the world stops. A sharp breath punches from my lungs, my hands flying to cover my mouth as my eyes blur with tears. Billy. I drink him in, my chest tightening painfully. He looks… He stands there, wearing a neatly pressed forest green button-down shirt, tucked into dark wash jeans. His hair is combed, trimmed. His beard—neatly groomed. But beneath the polished appearance, the changes are impossible to ignore. The once-powerful warrior—the Gamma Head Warrior—is really gone.

“Kayson, this expert who’s skilled in disguising is Brody Gomez. People call him Thousand-Faced Phantom. He’s incredible in his disguising skill. “Unless a smasher checks with soul energy, the closest person to the disguised person wouldn’t be able to distinguish the difference.” Kayson was bewildered. That was Charis’ grandfather!

Black American,7ft 1inch tall,bald headed with tattoos all over his two arms,his neck and his left cheek. Studs on his two earlobes and a nose ring. He looked like a criminal who just got out of jail and he looked frightening each time he frowns. They say,he was once a ring fighter.Ice cold. Real name,Shawn Gomez. To be honest with you,I like this guy. As his name depicts,he was very calm and quiet. You could underestimate this guy but girl! You would be shocked out of your skin. Not too tall but taller than storm. He is good with the machine guns and long range guns. A former assassin and now,he works for Jake.

He's beside me, his phone already at his ear, his hands shaking. "I just hit someone with my car–in front of Westside medical centre –she's bleeding–" His voice cracks. "Please hurry–she's not moving–my name is Damian King–please–" I try to speak. Nothing comes out. Everything's getting darker. "Stay with me," he begs. "Please stay with me–" The darkness takes me. The last thing I hear is his voice, desperate: "Please–you have to hurry–" Then nothing.

Ashton accepts the offer by giving the man a small nod at the same time that the young man breaks the hug with me. “Have a seat, please,” The guy tells us, and we do just that. “I’m Billy, and I live here in this cabin with my family.” Billy’s father returns with proper clothes for Ashton and hands them to him. As Ashton takes off his ragged clothes so he can wear the new clothes brought, I get distracted for a few seconds by how perfect his body is. His abs are a work of art, and should be shown at art shows! “We were attacked last night by armed robbers,” Billy continues his story, and I peel my eyes off Ashton’s hot body. “They were people that we knew and were about to take all that we h

His white blond hair could very well be all grey by now, it was impossible to tell. But Sia could read his eyes, and they were now grey with rage and lust. He was wearing a dark blue uniform that she’d seen on one of the cleaners, and it hung loose around his shoulders. He had lost weight (a lot of it) but he also seemed to have gained a few muscles. There were dark circles around his eyes, and his skin was so pale from the lack of exposure to sunlight.

I follow the deep, methodical breathing from the hallway down to the left and let out an embarrassing giggle when I see Billy. He is wearing an angry scowl and crusty blood on his chin. I step closer, holding onto the bars as his eyes wander and meet mine in a whirlwind of anger and happiness. His long hair flows over his shoulders and his hands are above his head in the biggest chains I have ever seen. He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “What the fuck are you here for?” “I’m here for you and the rest of our pack.” “I’m sorry. Our pack?” he asks, trying not to laugh.

"And I ain't got time to fuck around here while you get your rocks off thinkin' about it. We gonna do business, or what?" "Yeah, sure," Billy said. "You got the piece with you?" "It's out in my saddle bags," Moose replied. "What about the stuff you're supposed to have for me?" "It's out in my pickup," Billy said. "Come on." The three of us in the van watched the video monitor and saw Billy and Moose emerge from the club. The started across the parking lot, headed in the direction of the van. "Damn!" Richard said. "The little asshole's making it easy for us. The closer he gets, the better the tape's gonna be."

Billy stood in front of the gates of Doom Cemetery. He reached out to ring the clock. He felt extremely nervous. She kept pacing wondering if someone would open the gates. He certainly learned his lesson about entering without permission. “What are you doing here?” “Bloody hell!” Billy said startled. “Why do you always just appear Dad?” “I ask again, what are you doing here Billy?” “I need to talk with you, please.” “I have nothing to say to you. Leave.” “Please Dad, I know Gia is staying here with you.”