Man With Bulge Novels & Stories

Some men, whom Ejima did not know, mocked. The woman showed no regret. She only gathered her stuff and took the exit. "I will hit the mark," a lanky man said as he walked up the line. Even as he walked into the open space, Ejima could not help the sense of pity that engrossed her. The bone in the man’s rib was sticking out their ugly heads as if the man was twenty years starving. His head was small, but his eyes were almost the size of the head of a day-old baby. And his feet...they looked as if they were barely touching the ground.

Though wrapped thickly in blankets, glimpses of their uniforms peeked out at the edges. The two men were also bundled up, though their clothing seemed ordinary—nothing revealed whether they were medical staff. The five women were all attractive, though heavily clothed, so their figures were hidden. The men were different: one was slim, but the other was astonishingly fat, almost spherical. His round face, at most in his twenties, gave off a naive, harmless impression. Clearly, he hadn't paid much attention to his physique. "Uh… how did you end up here?" the slim man asked. He was around thirty, with a scar running from his left eye to his mouth—a mark that screamed trouble.

"Why don't you want to go in anymore? With your skills, there shouldn't be any danger even if you go up to forty meters as long as you're careful," Another warrior said seriously. The man in blue clothes sighed before he reached out and pulled his left sleeve back. He revealed an injury around his arm. There was a large wound on his somewhat pale skin. The places around the wound were already starting to rot. One could even see some bones. The others were completely stunned when they saw that, and did not know what to say. After a long time, one of them said, "How did this happen?! How did you get so injured? Haven't you taken any pills? The injury looks like it hasn't stopped yet."

The panic surged, rolling under my skin, forcing the air out of my lungs and crushing my heart in my chest. With his arm outstretched, the man curled his fingers up, almost in a beckoning gesture and it was then I realised that he didn't have a gun at all. In fact, he wasn't holding anything. Instead, he made a half-fist as if grabbing at the air and he pulled.

Or, should I say, someone. Against a big, thick rough skinned tree was a skinny man. He had white skin, like literally white. It was as if he hadn’t gotten any sunlight for ages. His upper body was bare and I could see his ribs. The vision was so clear, I saw his chest clearly rise and depress. His stomach was so sunken in, it felt like he had no organs while his head was bald and sunken in a little from the side. He didn’t have any eyebrows either which made his appearance even more disturbing. It was like he didn’t have any hair on his body at all.

Aiden : what has she ever done to you? Man : she attracted me in the way that no other has ever done to me with her bump. She is used by you, still I am willing to accept her. Aiden : you bastard…. He was going to punch him when that man points his gun to calista. Man : aww how can you not remember your friend?? Making a sad pout, he spoke. Aiden : WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?? FUCKER… Shouted Aiden. Man : remember your best friend from childhood. When you both started working for that mafia?

"At least we both know now that you hold such thoughts against me" "I hold worse" he smiles revealing his dimples. Yen yen yen! I'm always oppressed whenever I see people with cute dimples. I mean how do they get it easily and why don't I have it even though I literally make holes in my cheek almost every morning. "Come down for lunch" this time his tone is commanding, more like an order. I nod and close the door.

She bent down lightly and gave the man a push but he did not budge. She noticed the man on the ground had worn a black tux, unbuttoned now. Megan grimaced at his white buttoned shirt inside stained with his blood. She could see the man was tall even though he was laying on the ground. Well over six feet, Megan assumed. The stark lines of his tuxedo jacket emphasising his broad shoulders and impressive chest. His perfectly defined lips could have graced a Grecian status curved in blatant male appreciation. Everything in this man screamed danger. Megan felt as if she'd tumbled down a rabbit hole, into some bizarre alternate reality. Is he dead? Megan asked herself as she gave the man another p

The big man took his time with my buttons. One by one, slow and deliberate, like a guy peeling the skin off a lie to see what it is covering up. The blue kaftan slid off my shoulders by a few inches when he suddenly stopped. His chest caught the firelight the way bad news catches headlines—broad, scarred, unapologetic. I made a rushed step back just in case, fighting the urge to touch his shoulder. There was an old bullet mark on the right side near his ribs. Faded, but not invisible. The kind of souvenir one doesn’t put on display.

The damned out threw me so hard that my left elbow landed hard and now it was swollen and hurting like hell ", Now run out of here, or did you come to offer your little body to the boss...a woman like you can't get a job here...so ugly and filthy, "the man remarked with a smirk as he dug in his coat pocket not sure what he was taking out but I saw as he retrieved a wallet there. My eyes narrowed as I watched him open it and took out some cash