Scp Crooked Man Novels & Stories

With a loud clap on Kobee’s back, the man startled him, causing him to stumble forward. "HEY KOBEE! BRO!" the man shouted, and Kobee jumped, wide-eyed. The stranger laughed, his smile infectious and full of charm, a grin that felt like it could melt anyone’s resistance. He had dark hair and striking eyes—one green and one blue. A scar ran down his right eye, adding a touch of danger to his otherwise carefree demeanor. "Ready to go, old pal?" the man, who I assumed was Rosco, asked, a playful tone in his voice.

His raspy voice barely echoed above the loud music when he spoke to me, “You must be Alessandra Scavelli, right?” “Yes, I am,” I replied, swallowing hard as I nodded. For some reason, this man in front of me gave me the creeps but I tried not to let not to let it show. Strength was everything in this world, because the wolves in this game wouldn't hesitate to chew and spit you out once they discovered you were a sheep. The man slowly climbed out of the pool, revealing his naked body, but never taking his eyes off me. I immediately turned away once I saw his proud, jutting cock but the thin, jagged scar across his stomach did not go unnoticed.

“I could have just pulled the trigger and ended your life right now, but of course, that would be against me. Because I can use you.” “No, Crane! Let him go! He had nothing to do with all of this!” Ciara screamed. Scott hated to see her begging this man, who was now grinning devilishly at him. His big eyes darted up to Ciara, and Scott wanted to poke them out with his wolf's claw. “Yes, he has something to do with all of this, Ciara,” said the man named Crane. “Wasn’t he the guy you were with when my men found you in Naechester?” Crane glanced sharply at Scott, bringing his face closer to Scott’s and squinting.

His loud, wicked laughter filled the room, resonating with the others who joined in, creating a chorus of dark intentions. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Scorpio entered his office, leaning heavily on his walking stick. Khalid followed closely, a hint of fear in his steps. Once Scorpio settled in his chair, he said sharply, “Speak.” "We've got the intel. The girls have been trafficked successfully," Khalid said stammering. Scorpio’s tone shifted, sharp and demanding, "What about my money?" "Already sent, sir," came Khalid's quick reply. "And the instruments I ordered?" Scorpio pressed, impatience clear in his voice.

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.

He had messy brown curls, and his features were strong and handsome, but his most striking feature was his eyes—as green as an Irish forest after a storm. "Are you his owner?" I handed him a tissue. "Be careful when you walk him. The old factory district is full of rusted fences." The man took the tissue but didn't wipe his face. He just stared at me. "I'm Dorian. Dorian Ashford," he said, holding out his hand. A roguish but charming smile played on his lips, his Irish accent thick. "Thanks for saving Zeus. You have steady hands, doc." "Just part of the job," I said, politely shaking his hand. His touch was warm and dry. "That will be fifty dollars."

These weren't humans. The circle stopped, the engines idling low. A man on a black Harley rolled forward. He was enormous, his shoulders broad enough to block out the moon. His hair was a wild, silver-streaked mane, and a scar ran from his temple to his jaw, disappearing into a thick beard. "Cane," the big man rumbled. "I thought I smelled something rotting in the wind. I didn't think you’d be stupid enough to return to the border. Not after what happened last time."

Scar is seated on the bed operating a laptop,she looked up to the man beside her tall and well built,his eyes deep like eyes that held many secrets and knows maybe too much. “Marcus,that works well in our favor, you'll upload the video,my health report,the scan results and everything related to my failing health on my official page when I step out,let's use their delusion against them” She scoffed reading comments under a post bashing her. “Karma,they say karma caught me,that bitch karma is scared of me” He slowly unbottoned his shirt revealing a tattoo covering his chest and stomach,an eagle holding a snake with it's claws,he got into the bathtub slowly.

I knew it was probably a trap, but my longing for my mother and my desperation to get the music back won out over my reason. But I was careful. I told the butler where I was going. When I pushed open the door to room 502, I wasn't met with my music, but with two large, strong men. One of them had a brutish face and eyes filled with a disgusting greed and lust. I recognized him instantly. Marco, a rival capo, a pig known for his cruelty and depravity. "Haha, you really came, my dear sister." Bianca stepped out of the shadows, a twisted, triumphant smile on her face.

He left it embedded in the man's chest and ducked another strike which narrowly missed him by the neck, he saw a patch of his hair fall and his eyes widened, he knew he was rusty, it had been too long. He went down, twisting round with a leg stuck straight out, clearing two men off their feet and they came down with a grump. He quickly got up and slid to the right, avoiding an attack and threw a punch, it caught the man right in the throat causing him to choke and the grip on his sword loosened as he stumbled back. Omar yanked the sword out of his hands and brought it hard on the man's collar bone. The sharp blade went in deep, almost removing the man's shoulder. He smirked, this was somehow