Marble Hornets Masky Novels & Stories

The blue-masked woman moved behind, her hands sliding up my back, unfastening my gown to let it fall, exposing my breasts to the cool air, her mouth descending to suck a nipple hard, teeth grazing the sensitive peak. “Oh god,” I whimpered, the combined assault overwhelming, and the gold-masked leader chuckled, stepping closer, her hands cupping my face, kissing me deeply, her tongue dominating mine. The silver-masked woman increased the vibrator’s speed, the hum intensifying, while the purple-masked woman added a third finger, thrusting deep into my wet cunt, stretching me further. The red-masked woman’s tongue delved deeper, her hands spreading my thighs wider, and I rocked against her face

“Not all mates are as lucky to be adored and loved. I’ve never seen a couple as happy as that picture of your parents. I was possessed and subdued, never loved.” Darren sat silent for a long moment, staring back at me. He placed his hand over mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You know, those masks weren’t meant to hide a person. They were meant to reveal one’s inner self.” He pushed off the couch and walked to a cabinet in the corner of the room. He dug around in a bin at the bottom for a minute, then pulled out a mask like the ones decorating the wall downstairs in the pool room. It was a deep purple with black feathers coming from one side. “Ready to show that bastard your inner self? Th

I forced myself to look away, to not scan their faces for Marjorie’s. Something twisted in my gut when two stylists approached me. They were wearing masks, all of them were. These weren’t ordinary masks made from plastic or fabric, rather some kind of stone with veins of pale marble and shimmering gold. Up close, they were both beautiful and intimidating. Apart from the eyes staring out at me, I could have believed they were statues brought to life by magic. They didn’t speak or touch me as they led me into the dressing room and through another set of doors. I tried and failed not to glance over at the other doe’s, each one barefoot and wearing a plain white robe.

The sounds of cars driving by, and their horns interlaced with the cacophony of voices and footsteps created a background song to my self-declared movie. I lifted my head and gazed at the giant sign of the White-Angel company and a flood of warmth flowed in my stomach. —Today was day one of my revenge mission and I was very well prepared for it. I pushed back the Bayonetta glasses I had ordered over the weekend from A****n. They had been one of the basics for the office siren starter pack I had researched deeply on P*******t and which I had dressed accordingly. Over my pin-striped pencil skirt with the side front slit, I had worn a very tight-fitting white shirt which did not have any button

The gold mask of the two covering their eyes until the nose emphasized their very fox like eyes and pointed nose, even with a cover, the Corden admits how handsome the young master is, but falling their glances to the woman beside him, they can already heave a sigh of disappointment. The media personnels was in awe by the two's visual despite wearing mask, they even cursed inside who decided to make the party a masquerade, that way stops them from knowing many hidden big shots. Marcus already realized how helpful it is to him to have this mask, his father must have requested it! As his accompany, Abby Hill went near him and decided to put her arm locked on his, together they ramped their fas

Was what I said before I followed the tortoise. As it turns out, the destination that the tortoise tried to show wasn’t that far from where Clairmont and the grave is. The little tortoise pointed at a large hole in front of me, which if I can remember, was one of the holes caused by Clairmont’s black stone magic whatchamacallit. There was a white mask with a skull engraving on it, lying somewhere in the not-that-deep hole. “That is…” I leaped down the hole and picked up the mask. Wasn’t this mask a belonging to the members of the Astra organization? There shouldn’t be anymore of their people, so why was it here?

Pockmark Mask now. ***

The normally impenetrable mask shattered like glass under the onslaught of my powerful blow, revealing nothing beneath - faceless. He crumbled to his knees, an ethereal apparition, his countenance veiled in every darkness. As he fell limp to the floor, I felt a fleeting sensation of victory, realizing the key to our liberation – the masks. "It's the mask." I breathed. "Their weakness is in their mask." then I strode toward the second man in front of Simon. With renewed vigor, my friends and I lashed at the remaining assailants, aiming for their cursed masks. Each strike of my claws shattered them into oblivion, releasing the men beneath from their silent torment.

“The colors are orange and black, which would indicate Halloween, but there are hearts on it with ‘I LUV U’ and ‘BE MINE’ on them, which are Valentine’s Day candies.” Zane frowned and nodded. “And that mask over there, it’s got playing cards on it, which would indicate it’s for a gambling or casino theme, but it’s also got a Red Cross on it, which makes no sense.” “I’ve donated to the Red Cross,” he said absently. “Not the Moon Cross?” I asked, which basically did the same thing as the Red Cross, but for werewolves. “Them too.” I looked at another mask and laughed. “Oh dear.”

There never existed two people in the world with vocals like Marchesa. Marcelo swept back the hair that stood in his eyes, brought his mask down to his neck. A vicious look on his face. But Marconi knew he couldn't demonstrate fear at that moment. Ever since he opted for that seat, Marcelo coming back had been his biggest nightmare; especially when he put a price on his head. Now, the devil was here, looking bruised and bartered from every corner but the look in his eyes could have had Lucifer himself running. He looked soulless.