Mad Hatter Tim Burton Novels & Stories

I know they have talked about her moving into his house, but she says she is not ready to live together yet. I just sat down and was about to start my movie when there was a knock at the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so who the hell is here. I got up and walked to the door. I opened it and there stood there Burton. What the fuck is he doing here?. This guy irritates the shit out of me. Ok, I will admit that he is sexy as hell. Burton is 6’2” with shaggy purple hair and light hazel eyes. He just recently dyed his hair purple, it was a bright teal before. He has tattoos and a few body piercings too. He looks like he belongs in a hard rock band. He is built like all the other eye c

The fucked possibilities were endless really. It was hard putting her trust and faith in a man who wore a purple suit and was currently entertaining himself by shooting fake snowballs at the man bleeding to death in a kitchen chair. The Hatter had taken to using a child’s snowball gun pelting Lazy Eye with fake rounds of snowballs, assigning a point value to different body regions. He had grown bored as Amber prattled on and pulled the toy gun from his vest pocket. His best hit so far was the fifty-pointer square between the bastard’s eyes. It was hella hard to take him seriously between that and the Christmas Carols he had made one of him men turn on which he sang karaoke style.

Adam’s smile never dims as he shrugs and fixes his hair. Henry shakes his head but smiles as well. “Now the young woman next to him is Margo,” he said, once again gesturing with his hand but this time to the quiet girl in the hoodie. I gave her a nod and my attempt at a warm smile, which she returned briefly. “And finally we have Fletcher over there, holding up the wall,” Hull said, teasing dark and mysterious. “Fuck off,” Fletcher told him, flipping him off then re-crossed his arms over his chest.

“IS it alright to let things go just like that?” The Mistress of Time whispers, asking for the fact that is alarming from every corner of their plans. Now with their insane Mad Hatter on the loose, one thing might lead to another disaster. “What things?” Yet, HE is more than confident unlike ever before. As usual HE already foreseen everything and such as this to happen. With the Hatter’s pack to the little pure darkness, just how could everything fall perfectly than before? “Do not think about any unnecessary things right now. I still have the upper hand. I will always have it.”

MADNESS © MASTAANI. All rights reserved. This story must not be republished in any form without the consent of the author who's the copyright holder and any infringement of this book is a violation of the law. No parts of this book shall be transmitted or translated in any form. It's under the copyright of the author. I've spent hours and had restless nights thinking and writing, just to make sure that you all get the best from me, so please be kind:-)

My uncle didn't have power when he was in control but after his death, he got them all; power, wealth and even his asshole was enlarged not literally. I've been trying to find the infamous hitman so that I can end him for good but it was impossible until he killed one of my friends. He ended the life of the third best weapons' dealer, Jeremy, and unknowingly grabbed my attention. If he hadn't made that kill, I would've never found out where he was or who he was. Alessio Romano. Jeremy was the one who would supply me with the weapons I needed. When he died, I hacked into his mansion's footage and saw how he was killed by the Alessio who carelessly revealed that he was The Shadow., his code n

I don't want that. I release a sigh and nod, at the same time as I catch the eyes of Ash and send him a silent message of understanding. "No problem, I'll go with you to. . . wherever just. . . give Ash the detonator." The mad hatter lets out a deep chuckle and shakes his head. "Someone must think I was dropped on my head as a baby." His head swings to me, and those cold, cold eyes settle on me. They're piercing in their intensity. "We're doing it my way, which is once you're safely away from this place, I'll destroy the detonator."

The helmet was a personal item I spent a fortune modifying. After all, I was a top combatant. It wasn't connected to the camp's network and would only save the recorded data in an encrypted chip of the highest level. To make sure the chip recorded the most damning evidence, I held back the agonizing pain and injected more despair into my voice. "I protected you and nearly turned into a zombie multiple times for three whole years. I gave you my only lesser ascension potion while I fought the virus with nothing but my own body, and this is how you repay me?"

He held it up for a moment, examining it in the light before casually flicking it onto the concrete floor, where it landed with a tiny, insignificant tink. "One," Zandrei counted softly, his eyes glinting with a mad, ecstatic light. "Now, let's try again. Who sent you?" He asked, his voice brimming with a childlike excitement, like a madman who had just discovered a wonderfully fun new game and was eager for another turn. The man in the chair could only manage a strangled, guttural sound, a wet sobbing noise that vibrated through his shattered mouth. His head thrashed from side to side, his eyes wide with a horror so pure it was almost beautiful to Zandrei.