Master Frown Novels & Stories

Of course he did, I lowered my eyes to my lap so they wouldn’t see the hatred flicker briefly across my face, hatred itself was dangerous, the Mothers said bitterness poisoned a woman’s spirit, but lately I felt poisoned already. Two months ago, the Master summoned me to his private study after evening prayer. I still remembered every detail, the smell of incense, the heavy silence, the guards outside the door and him, Gabriel Vane. The man everyone worshipped like a prophet, he was old enough to be my grandfather, perhaps older, no one actually knew his real age because nobody dared ask questions about the Master, but whispers among the older women claimed he was already in his sixties, his

“I can't fucking believe a growling stinky mutt can make the master of the whole world run around with a face-changing spell…” I complained, rubbing the back of my nape with my palm and that stinky little vampire let out a seductive laugh, his eyes glittering with excitement and eyebrows dancing with amusement as he listened more to my non stop grumbling… “Fuck! If it wouldn't have been for ending up exposing my fucking identity as The Master of this freaking world and a wizard in front of that dumb ass hot as hell mutt who thinks I am a mere human he can claim as he olease, which might risk my god damn mission, I wouldn't have gone through the dang trouble of changing my gorgeous face.”

My watcher is staring back at me from behind a small pane of glass, the dark brown frame enhancing the natural tan that graces his skin. “Who are they?” I ask the man; when he doesn’t answer me, I press the gun hard against his head and let out a low growl. “The Master. They’re all the Master.” He cries as he holds up his hands and drops to his knees. I lick my dry lips as I pull back the gun, but I don’t lower it; I keep it trained on the man’s head as I look from one picture to the other. Some of the men are so old they look like they might crumble to dust, but others look more like Francis if he were younger.

He looks gloomy and angry. "Ma..master, welcome back."

Heart then stopped from sobbing and then removed her face from his chest and then looked into his eyes. “Thank you so much, Mr. CEO Cullen Lee.” Heart thanked him and smiled at him. Cullen smiled and blushed. “I am happy that you smiled because of me, just call me ‘master’ as return.” Cullen teased her. Heart chuckled. “Yes, master? Hahaha.” She laughed. Both of them laughed together. Cullen blushed and liked it so much. He then grinned at her. “So, meaning, we can have sex now? I am your master now.” Cullen teased her playfully. Heart rolled her eyes and then looked away. “No.” She declined and then stood up.

"I'd love a coffee. But please call me Beth. At least when we're in private." Francis pauses, her face softening. "Beth then. Suffering from overwhelm?" "Just a bit, yes." Through the internal window, I see my Master casting back. As he sees I am still with Francis, he frowns, looking puzzled, then waves me through. While he speaks to his friend, I stand by the window, looking out over the vast panorama of my Master's Vision. *****

Master Zung replied “Where’s the little girl they c@m£ with?” Master Min asked “With Some workers” ****** DARK INSTITUTE** “How dare you tell me you didn’t succeed in killing those interrupters!” The master yelled angrily at the four They immediately bowed their heads “I can’t believe you got hurt,,so embarr@ssing” “Trust us master,,,He’s really damn strong,,He’s powerful” Leander spoke up and a sl@p landed on her face The others kept quiet

And what if Leandro reports this to his master once he returns? I might just end up being roast to death, by the way, his master glared ferociously at me. Like I said, If only his master's glare could kill; I'd probably million times dead by now. I lost count of how many times his master and I argued and end up surrendering to him because I was too afraid whenever his master glares at me as if he's some kind of a tyrant god being deprived of happiness for a very long time. As a matter of fact, I have never seen his master ever smiled so joyfully—like the real deal kind of joy. Which is of course, nonexistent in his vocabulary. He would just always send me chilling grins and mischievous beams

He walked toward us with the calm, controlled stride of a man who had faced down opponents his whole life and never lost. He stopped a few feet away. "Let go of her." His voice was quiet. Almost gentle. But there was steel under it. It was cold and absolute. Joe laughed but he didn't let go. "You must be the replacement." Cameron didn't take the bait. He didn't react to the word replacement. He just looked at Joe with those dark, steady eyes. "You have three seconds." Joe's smile faltered. For a moment, just a moment, I saw something flicker across his face. Uncertainty, fear, even. Then it was gone, replaced by the familiar mask of arrogance.

“Really? You can pronounce their names?” “Well, no. But I’ve done close approximations for them.” He handed his notebook over to me. There were rough sketches of the Masters with names next to each. Comfort, Unscathed, Dark Melody, Skull Face, Cheeser, Manly, Killdozer, Gamba and Bisquik. You had to hand it to Maurice, he put the time in. “Nice. I thought his Dad sounded more like Biscuit.” I handed the notebook back.