Scary Man Novels & Stories

He smiled, leaving the mansion with his men closing the door behind them. "I don't like him, he's scary, weird." I laughed. "He sure likes you." "Whatever. " I laughed. Kissing her brow.

All I get is his stony expression that is indecipherable. When I still do not make any attempt to climb the stairs to him, he descends like a Norse god of war, ready to pillage cities, burn churches and rape women. Which could be like his regular Tuesday or something. As he reaches the swarm of people, they part and keep their distances from him for fear that if they bump into him, they die. In long, confident strides he reaches me. All my instincts are telling me to flee away from the scary man. But I show no fear as I stand my ground, steel my face, and have a sip of my beer for a little bit of liquid courage.

All of a sudden some bikers came forward from behind them and drove past me as they were now surrounding me with their bikes, roaring the engine to scare me. "I didn't know that cats are this clever to play with those kinds of toys."The Scar face said all of a sudden, getting into the conversation. Oh, I forget he speaks. He looks good when he keeps his mouth shut because whenever he speaks up it doesn't help at all. In fact his voice and presence sucks up your confidence leaving you stammering. "That shouldn't bother you." I said looking direct in his eyes but when he raised his bruised eyebrow at me,I started to blink several times and quickly diverted my gaze away from him.

the old man said, his tone amused yet cautious as he watched the newcomer walk in with two men dressed in black suits. “Mr. Romero. Nice to meet you too,” the young man replied with a faint smile before taking the empty seat across from him. “I don’t wish to speak with you,” Romero said coldly, already preparing to stand. “I want to talk to your father. If it’s not the head of your group, then I have no business here.” He was about to rise when----- BANG! The young man slammed his hand against the table. The sharp sound echoed through the room, instantly thickening the tension.

But when the men's gazes trailed to me, I stepped back in fear. I should have known better than to talk. “Oh, and there's a pretty girl too. Maybe I can answer your question if you take my cock in your mouth,” the scary man said, and another round of laughter erupted. I bit my lip, humiliated and shaken by the harassment. I knew it would be bad to talk back, but before the men could throw another joke at me, Tyson slapped the scary-looking man hard across the face. “How dare you talk to her like that?” he roared, his face darkened with rage, and my eyes widened in shock.

She never expected someone to barge into their house unannounced,so what is this strange man doing in their house in the middle of the night? "Who are you,and what are you doing here?,she asked fearfully cause the man was looking horrifying and the sight of looking at him alone can make someone faint without looking twice. He has this kind of ugly scar on his face ,like it was been burned with some kind of fire which melted part of his face and eyes together making him look horrible. "Am your worst night mare my darling",he said with a smirk and he charge toward Isabella and stab her in her stomach in a swift motion without making her think twice.

She stepped forward and said angrily, "What are you doing? Why are you breaking into our house?" "What are we doing? You must be Maison, then. Cooperate with us, and we'll take no action. Don't cooperate with us, and we'll do whatever we want. "Let me introduce myself; my name is Scar Cuddy. Yes, Scar. Like scars from a knife wound. I've killed around ten people. I hope you won't be my next victim." Scar looked fierce, and his words sounded terrifying. Most importantly, he terrified Maison. She felt nervous.

The man tried to struggle wildly, but under Scott's foot, he writhed like a flopping shrimp, his body jerking in repeated spasms. Just watching it made people feel the pain deep in their bones. Soon, the man stopped moving. Scott lifted his foot. The man who had gone berserk now looked like a soaked stray, his face deathly pale, all spirit drained away. Terrified and shaken, he crawled up from the ground and looked at the gentle, friendly Scott standing in front of him.

Every corner looked like a trap waiting to spring shut. Then I saw him. The scarred man. He stepped out from behind a stack of crates, his tall frame illuminated by a flickering streetlight. That ugly scar stretched from his cheekbone to his jaw, his grin even uglier. “So you came,” he said, his voice thick with amusement. “I was beginning to think you didn’t care about your little woman.” Anger surged through me, pushing past my fear. Then I took a step forward, with my fists clenched.

The man sniffles his nose, taking a couple of steps forward. Laurel raises her head to meet his gaze, her eyes trailing his blue jean trouser, a vintage shirt exposing his fat belle and his face. She feels the chill of fear run down her body. He is indeed a scary man with a beards covered face and a scar running down his from his eyes to his jaw. Laurel swiftly pulls her head down to her feet as the man's dark gaze meets hers. “Your parents can't rescue you, they wouldn't know where if they tried, so you don't want to get on my bad side.” He grunts again, spitting on the floor.