Man With The Upside Down Face Novels & Stories

Gunner, and this man, they know each other, somehow. The man held out his hands in surrender and chuckled. I watched as the hair slowly disappeared into his skin. His human frame got shorter and smaller as his limbs shrunk. I watched in amazement as his face reverted back to that of a normal human. He was a little older, but well fit and still somewhat scary looking. He lifted his gaze to me briefly and winked, an act I thought was very forward and familiar for someone I have never seen before. It didn’t go unnoticed by Gunner who stepped forward again and growled. The man turned his attention back to Gunner and relaxed his arms. He smiled widely and placed his hand on his chest and bowed ev

Then who is the person who also just entered? The man is wearing black face mask, white long sleeves that is folded up to his elbow, and black pants. His hair is cleanly cut but his aura is cold. He looks unapproachable and quite fierce. It seems like the man noticed his stare because he turned his head and their eyes met. Jevro's fingers flinches when he saw the man's golden eyes. "It sparked?" He whispered to himself. "Impossible, there's a lot of people wearing contact lenses. So it's impossible that his eyes is real." He also added.

What in the world? I look around again and find the man's face. He's older, probably about the same age as Krauft. His hands are held up, palms facing me as a sign of passivity. His dark brown curls tucked up in a beat up baseball cap and his bright blue eyes flooded with concern.

It's a woman’s face merged with a mans, he’s sucking her life out of her and replacing it with a blue substance but she has such a real smile on her face and somehow whoever drew it managed to create a devilish smile on the man's face. I was so indulged in the painting that I didn’t notice when Vladim stood behind me, watching it with me. I spun around to see what he was doing, only to bump into his tree-like body. I wish he wasn’t such an asshole, we could’ve worked so well together.

Not only was this man’s face deformed, but his heart was also just as twisted. It took Juliet quite a while to force herself to accept his appearance. Then, she carefully approached him. “You’re Phantom Marionette?” she asked. “Isn’t it obvious?” replied the man. Phantom Marionette crinkled his eyes and pointed to his face before extending a hand to Juliet. His hand was just as horrendous as his face. It seemed like every part of this guy had been washed with sulfuric acid. “What do you want?” Juliet asked with a frown.

I panicked "Swee..." I could not get myself to say any more words as I placed my palm on my mouth and began to gag. Before I knew what was happening, I threw up what I had eaten some minutes ago. I gaze back at the man, he looks so dead. One of his eyeballs is missing, and the left side of his head is open as blood gushes out. His mouth, ear, and nose are covered in blood and the ace tattoo I saw a second again. Half of his face looks seriously disfigured.

It was quirky and unpleasant, which reminded me of the hissing sound coming from snakes or some other reptiles. I turned back and saw a man, dressed up in a white silk suit, standing behind me, holding a bunch of white roses in his hand. There was a striking long scar cut all the way from his forehead to the corner of his mouth, indicating that he was a dangerous man. The most annoying part of his face was his proportionally large nose. It looked so out of context on his fucking stupid face, which made him look like a grotesque, devilish troll. He was surrounded by several men in black suits, with black sunglasses and greasy slick back hair.

He placed his fingers at the edge of his face. Isadora’s breath caught. “What are you doing?” she whispered. He did not answer. He began to peel. The skin lifted unnaturally, separating from his face. Isadora gasped. Her body refused to move. She could not scream. She could not look away. The mask came off in sections, revealing skin beneath. Smooth. Firm. Young. The ugly face she knew peeled away completely. He dropped it onto the desk. Isadora stared. Her mouth fell open. Standing in front of her was not the man everyone feared.

Filled with the metallic scent of fear. I slowly opened the door, and the sight made me smile. In the centre of the dimly lit room, there was a man hanging upside down with a chain directly to the ceiling. His face was already bruised, one eye was swollen, and closed. He looked up when he heard footsteps, and the colour drained from what was left of his face. “Sir Adrian,” he rasped, voice cracking. “Please… I was just following orders, I...” I didn’t let him finish.

Their hands shook despite the speed of their movements. They did not pray. They did not speak. One of them retched suddenly, bending at the waist, gagging violently before wiping his mouth with his sleeve and forcing himself upright again. Elizabeth stopped a few paces away. The cloth slipped as the body was lifted, just enough for her to see the man’s face—swollen, discolored, mouth frozen open as if he had died trying to breathe. The skin beneath his eyes had darkened to bruised purple, stretched tight and shiny. Dark lumps bulged beneath his jaw, round and obscene, pulling the flesh downward.