Jason Voorhees Under The Mask Novels & Stories

Nothing is private anymore. In front of her was the man who asked for a hand in marriage to Duke Raziel. He had his usual blue tailored suit that hung his body perfectly. He had his mask on his face that covered his nose and lips, but his infamous red eyes were staring at her, his black hair shining as the sun glistened from the window. She couldn’t read his face as he remained stoic. He was always wearing a mask to cover part of his face for unknown reasons. They said it was because he hides his ugly scar somewhere on the cheek...that he was a beast and the strongest...Well...that’s what the rumors say about him.

He had made space for my clothes, he's so sweet. I put lotion all over my body except my face knowing I was going to have to do some heavy damage on it considering the eye bags that were under my eyes. Now Jason? He looked perfectly normal, he didn't even show a sign of exhaustion, in fact, he looked energised and he wouldn't stop grinning like a fool. I watched him as he got dressed in his navy blue suit which brought out the seriousness in him and I was ready to forget all about my exhaustion and bend over for him.

Edward sighed as he accepted the fact that he had to explain his identity when Andrea burst out in tears. "My head hurts so much and I feel so cold. Everyone hates me…" Andrea cried as she held her head. Edward used this time to wear his masquerade mask before walking towards her. "Stay calm and go take your bath. I called a doctor to take care of you." He said as he sat beside her. *What's the use of wearing the mask when she already saw your face?* He asked himself, but disregarded it to focus on persuading her to take her bath.

You have to remain here and when you are ready to turn a new leaf, you let me know then we will start from there," Mr. Jackson said all that without Stacy saying anything. She was so boiling in anger that she clenched her fist and gritted her teeth. If not she loves her dad so much he might have to kiss mother Earth when she is finally free but that does not mean she will not deal with him. Mr. Jackson, seeing that Stacy might not say anything, stood up and left her room, locking the door from outside. "Sorry dear but you have to be there for now," he muttered to himself. ************* The masked guy woke up with his mask on. Anyone will think he would at least remove his mask before sleepin

The members here were the city's most powerful—CEOs, politicians, celebrities—all shedding their identities like winter coats. I leaned back against the plush velvet cushions of a semi-private alcove, my fingers loosely tracing the rim of my glass. The soft, black silk mask pressed comfortably against my skin, hiding the frantic, easily flustered CEO who had spent the day shouting about European tech holdings and debating the merits of vegetarian catering. Here, I didn't have to be the brilliant trillionaire heir to the Miller fortune. I didn't have to carry the pressure of thousands of employees on my shoulders. The mask was liberating in a way I'd never anticipated when I first joined.

"Although the money is decent, this is a masquerade performance. The clients prefer to be anonymous. I agreed right away without thinking. Friday night arrived fast, and before I knew it I was standing backstage at Eclipse, clad in a revealing costume and a black mask half my face. As I watched for my signal, my heart hammered in my chest. Soft, sensual lighting enveloped the stage as I left, the eyes of the patrons tracking every action. Trying to forget where I was and why I was doing this, I turned my attention to the music. The performance passed in a haze, my head disconnected from my body.

His lips curled into a huge smile as Hardin walked up to the two ladies, he was dressed in a pair of blue suits and his hair was pulled back in a neat undercut. He looked different from how she knew him five years ago, he looked more professional and more dashing. He didn’t look like the devil from five years ago, the devil that made her life a nightmare, the devil that snatched her life away from her. How could he look so different when he was the most evil person she has ever come across?

Jacob kept his face clean shaven whereas Jason kept the remnants of a five o’clock shadow and a very finely trimmed mustache. The other major difference was their tattoo and clothing styles. Jacob had his ink displayed on his bulging biceps and more often that not, opted to wear full tank shirts, usually in darker colors. Jason, on the other hand, had his ink on full display on his forearms and wore the preppy, ultra fitted white t-shirts that clung to every muscle like they were scultped just for him.

Chapter 97: The one I met at the Operation Garett’s Point Of View My mind would not take it initially. My grip on my gun tightened, and my eyes were on the man struggling with my men. He wore no mask, no disguise. Just him—Thorne. I felt as if the ground below me had disappeared. My whole body went rigid, my chest barely rising for air. I had a mask over myself, my identity hidden, but my hands shook. What the hell is he doing here?

--- The sliding glass doors at the airport’s arrivals wing whispered open, letting in a brief gust of warm, stuffy air. The terminal was a hum of suitcase wheels, boarding calls, and scattered conversations. A few heads turned when Alexander Gracias stepped through. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a charcoal suit that looked like it had been made for him, he moved like a man who expected the world to make way—and usually, it did. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes, but the firm set of his jaw spoke for him. Up ahead, Josiah Duggar spotted him. Early-to-mid thirties, trim build, hair neatly combed, Josiah looked every inch the professional. He threaded through the crowd and raised a small si