Semblance Grimace Novels & Stories

Her heart picked loudly as the man walked towards her, she couldn’t fathom this strange feeling between her and this Adonis of a man walking towards her, damn! He was handsome, Aramina had never seen someone whose pace was so precise, he walked towards her intently, with his gaze in her eyes, he got to her and he stared at her for a moment before uttering the weirdest greeting she had ever heard… “Hey mate”, and in a split second, hugged her.

Mimi was starting to sound like a girlfriend already. Despite the rather intimidating brush of mustache above his lips, which granted him a countenance of grim maturity and an illusion of lonerism, his grin was as jubilant as a child’s. Even his pearly-white teeth were showing. Mimi even discovered another easter egg in his features: he had a cute little dimple—an unsuspecting little impression on his cheek—that somehow made him look adorkable! The more she considered him, the more she realized just how cute this mean-looking guy could be.

It was looking at me. Through the grainy, low-resolution feed, I saw its face—or lack thereof. There were no eyes, just a smooth, pale expanse of skin that seemed to be pulled taut over a skull that was far too wide. It tilted its head, mimicking the angle of Elias’s own head, and I saw a thin, jagged line open up—a mouth, or a wound—that curved into a horrific, predatory grin.

He stands up and starts pacing back and forth like a soon-to-be father outside the delivery room, cigarette smoke trailing behind him as immutable as water on a leaf of taro. “Oh how do I put this?” he asks out loud with frustration in his voice. Hearing the Grim Reaper show human reactions to stress feels eerie and utterly disorienting. “It is aggravating that I cannot put this predicament into your hollow human words.” Then, his eyes, through the spectacles of his mask, widen with glee. “I suppose for you to understand you must first see. And for you to see, I need to lend you mine own eyes. Very well…” Septimus floats inches from the floor, as diaphanous as a ghost ship with lace for sail

“Of all the people I expected to see in the middle of the apocalypse, you were… actually pretty high on the list. Not gonna lie.” His smile widened sharply and ugly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” “Don’t,” I shot back immediately. “It’s not.” Grimlow’s eyes flicked over me then to Ashley, Lucius and finally Martha, like he was assessing value, calculating something in that twisted little brain of his. “What you’re witnessing,” he said, his voice almost proud now, “is my masterpiece. My creation. My genius finally realized.” I let out a short laugh, shaking my head.

Zane had a sickening grin in his face as he met my eyes, his own darker pair shining with unconcealed amusement. “With pleasure.”

Her skin was pale, grayish, like all the warmth had been drained from it. Her blue eyes—eyes that had once been so full of life—were empty. Dead. A walking corpse. A nightmare given form. But the worst part—the part that made my stomach turn, made my chest tighten with something that felt like pure terror— She was smiling. Not with warmth. Not with love. With something else. Something dark, twisted. Almost mocking. The corners of her lips pulled back too far, stretched in an unnatural grin that sent a sick shiver through me.

Interesting. A sudden burst of memories filled his head as he reminisced the past of who he was that made him what he is right now. A small grin etched his face as he turned his back on the young lad. The crows surrounding them seemed to sense their master's mood and started imitating laughs that resembled cracks from jesters and clowns in a circus. "Rise up boy and show me your face."

It’s a small, lanky man in his early fifties with a graying buzzcut and a face like a rat, and he smiles in a way that makes even my skin crawl. Grace’s face and body flash innumerable cues of distress so fast I can’t read them all. But what’s dumbfounding is that after all that happens in a matter of seconds, when she turns to face the speaker, she’s completely composed, her face an impenetrable mask.

I remain silent during this process, still not sure what to think about this situation. “Oh, this isn’t good.” Axel exclaims, checking his phone. “I have an alert, the police are looking for a fugitive with telekinetic abilities who may be able to identify a high-risk Abnormal known as a ‘Mimic’.” He looks confused and turns to Myah, “Do you know what a Mimic is?” He asks. She doesn’t show any reaction but simply states; “I can’t think of anything relating to that, CC?” Myah looks towards her sister for a further response,