Mask Of Vengeance Novels & Stories

Day eighteen. I wake up knowing today is the day I take back what is rightfully and has always been mine. My bathroom mirror shows a woman carved from vengeance: cheekbones sharp enough to cut, eyes cold as winter steel, mouth painted Vendetta red because today is war and I intend to look like the general. I dress for the kill.

My repaired heart is only asking one thing from the day I became numb is Revenge. See u soon XAVIER REVENGE IS ON I am back for my VENGEANCE -Yours love with lots of hatred Jasmine

the woman then softly touched her face and got up from the bed. Inside the bathroom she then quickly removed the face mask she was wearing below which there was a face which was filled with red coloured spots while somewhere now starting to turn black, the eyes of that lady were filled with revenge as she softly touched her face with her trembling hands before she closed her eyes and put the face mask back on her face

She said with a sweet smile that it caused his heart to stutter inside his chest and his guards came down for a fleeting second and there she saw the hint of her old Andrew but he was gone as soon as it came. He steeled his stance and the mask that appeared on his face was deadly and purely ominous. She still didn't back down. "I see, I still affect you." She blurted those words out knowing fully well she was playing with fire. A loud gasp escaped her lips when his large calloused hand wrapped around her dainty neck.

A lady with a bulb hairstyle just like mine, fair and pale skin tone just like mine, height a little taller than mine, marched up to me with obvious fury written all over her face. I stand still waiting for the slap that always stings. I never expected her to change eitherway–I don’t want anyone in this mansion changing. The sound comes before the sting registers, and my head is harshly forced to the side. Aish, it still hurts, regardless of how much I prepared for it. “Get her out now!” She yells at my face, her face red from anger, but the guard dare not try to lay their hands on me. My chest feels tight. If she’s pained about my presence how should I feel about returning to the same place

The psychopath hissed in my ear, his breath fanning on my face, and I risked a quick glance in the rearview mirror, a subtle effort to ID. But just as I’d suspected, his face was covered in a mask—well, half his face. But those eyes…I couldn’t recognize them. As I turned into the street that led up to Lazaro’s private suite, a thought suddenly occurred in my head. “I mean,” I cleared my throat, lifting my foot from the throttle and slowing the car a bit, “there must be a reason you haven’t killed me yet.” Dread threatened to choke me to death even before the cable tie around my neck did, but no, I wasn’t about to go down without a fight.

He fought with one hand, the other still holding my hand, his grip so tight, refusing to let go. “Damon, be careful!” I cried, my voice trembling as one of the masked men charged at him from the side; but Damon turned just in time driving his sword clean through the man’s neck. Blood sprayed, and he collapsed with a thud. Damon already killed four of the masked men, only two remained. They tried to flee after seeing the others dead but the warriors of Moonshadow emerged from every direction, encircling the last attackers. My eyes widened, where had they come from? Had they been following us all along?

His mere presence posed danger and I don’t think I’d ever feel safe around a man like him. When we got inside his room, I remained standing near the closed door while he walked to the desk in the far corner and put down an envelope. When he turned to me, I immediately lowered my head in fear that meeting his gaze would annoy him. “Did you have fun working?” he asked coldly as if he knew that I had a hard time. It’s what he wants after all. It is what they all want. To see my father’s family suffer. It is the kind of vengeance most people resort to. But the truth is, feeding your anger this way will only consume your soul. It will never heal you, because in the first place, inflicting harm to

My voice wavers, but I steel myself, pushing forward with my task. I needed to be strong for this. I needed to be. My eyes were swollen and red from days of crying and sleepless nights. But I was done wallowing in grief. I had set up a memorial for my pack. My pack which was now wiped out. The babies, the elders, warriors…every single one murdered and burnt to ashes. "They are going to Pay" I whispered defiantly. I will use this second change for vengeance. When I finished cutting my hair, I looked at my reflection and hardly recognized the woman staring back at me. My new shorter hair gave me a hardened appearance, and my once bright eyes now held a fierce determination.

The voice said with a noticeable pout to the tone. “You know my aunt? Please, just tell me who you are and how to get the fuck out of here.” That’s when a bright light flashed and a woman stood before me; her beautiful russet, reddish-brown skin, her almond-shaped brown eyes that looked like pools of chocolate, and her raven black hair framed her oval-shaped face. She was draped in a simple white dress that was reminiscent of a Greek goddess. Her dusky pink lips were set in a frown.