Man Without Eyes Novels & Stories

The only one who would tell me, ‘it’s okay to not be okay, it means you are human’. He dropped his shoulder and sighed dramatically, "I’m pretty sure you can find a much less deadly place to think, can’t you?." He leaned with his elbows resting on the ledge. His face faced mine, with the afternoon bronze sun shining low through the outline of his profile. His eyes and mine met. I have met him several times before, but that was the first time that I realized that his eyes are actually not black, but dark brown. A pair of fierce dark brown eyes framed by a thick black eyebrow, which match perfectly with his Albanian skin.

my eyes widen when I realize it. Luther's freaking naked, and mybreasts were literally touching his bare chest.and I just held his freaking dick.

The Russian man is sobbing as he hears about the death of his wife. Here's how it played out. He looks out of the back at the customers as a man walks in. The husband who is named Rocker has a smile on his face & a ring on his finger, a wedding ring. Chestnut, coily hair is pulled back to reveal a long, lived-in face. Heavy brown eyes, set gracefully within their sockets, watch merrily over the ships they've become enchanted by for so long. A goatee alluringly compliments his eyes and leaves a bittersweet memory of his reckless luck, staying alive for so long in this community is a blessing rather than luck at best. Luck is risky. Blessings are for sure.

He simply stayed quiet, standing firmly on his feet while being manhandled by his bully. Unable to hold in his anger at the lack of reaction, Jonas pulled his arm back and punched him hard in the face. The teenager's head snapped back from the violent impact, but his body was held firmly in place by Jonas's tight grip on his shirt. Taking a slow, deep breath, the boy opened his eyes and stared right into Jonas's. His gaze was so acute and terrifyingly dead that the guys standing behind the jock instinctively began backing away. His eyes were bloodshot.

The man also bowed gracefully "I made everyone wait, I'm sorry." About six feet tall, with white skin which suggested minimal exposure to the sun, Anglo-Saxon features and well-groomed purple hair. His eyes denoted his inorganic nature, being cybernetic devices similar to futuristic eyes that released a faint dark purple glow. He felt as if his eyes were capable of seeing much more than the mere human eye is capable of.

When the image of Hande with her backpack and hat on her head appeared on the screen, she was the target of a few curious glances. When Kerem saw Hande with one hand in his pocket and the other on the glass screen, he turned his gaze to Hande for a moment. His haughty gaze was present even when he was at work! No matter how much he laughed and posed beautifully for the screen, he was proud! Now he was watching himself on the screen, feeling the same upright posture and proud, though unseen, eyes.

Too much blood soaking his clothes and the cobblestones of the alley. The man glanced up, and the right side of his face was a mass of blood, one eye missing. It was all Rhychard could do to keep from vomiting. The man's lone eye was a deep ocean blue and shaped like a cat's eye, the pupil a narrow slit. He looked into Rhychard's face, his own a mask of confusion. "You're human?" Rhychard nodded. Obviously, the man was so far gone his brain had locked him into character. "Yeah, I'm human. Now, we have to get you to a hospital."

Strangely, the wound on my palm suddenly dried up and the scar disappeared. When I realized that, I accidentally saw the man’s eyes glow red. It only lasted for a moment, before they returned to their beautiful caramel brown color. He was… not a human?

Not the clean, beautiful white of the snow—no, this was a milky, deathly white. Next, his face became clearer, revealing a pair of thick lips, a broad, flat nose and no eyebrows at all. His eyes were closed, but his eyelids were so pale Leesa could almost see through them. She tried to pull her gaze away from his hideous face, but found she was unable to move her head. Suddenly, the man’s eyes shot open. Leesa gasped. His eyes were without eyeballs—no iris, no pupil, nothing. Just a flat, pinkish film. Despite the empty eyes, Leesa was certain the man could see. She shuddered.

He laughed as I looked around his men who were hollering with him. “I want to speak to your boss alone.” The man looked up at me. One of his eyes had a claw mark which had blinded him permanently in his left eye, but his right eye held years and years of experience of killing. They were darkened by the souls of the people he had taken. He then looked at his people and nodded. “You all can go. I’ll talk to the woman.” They hesitated, but then agreed to what their master had said. I then sat down beside him as he turned to me.