The Invisible Man Literature Novels & Stories

Her heart beat wildly until she realized she wasn’t afraid of the unseen person. Darkness settles around her again. She tried not going into that tunnel, afraid of where he might be lurking. He enjoyed staying in the dense coverage of the island taunting her. She has the instinct to get up and run but she can’t move. She keeps fighting but the darkness was too powerful… She was now somewhere in the depths of her unconscious mind seeing herself as a person of one. She makes stillness into a quietness that resemblance invisibility. She needs to escape his cloying presence.

The man tended to stick close to him when he’s needed to attend a meeting, especially one with the elders he was so loyal to. “ do you know of any one who is immune to my powers?” He asked the man, folding his sleeves. “ None Is immune to your powers my Lord, you are the high Lord…”the man replied. He shook his head, “ I know right, but if there was anyone, who would that be?…” he asked again. A human who looked eerily familiar with the woman in the picture had seen and touched him when he was supposed to be invisible to both humans and vampires alike. Though he kept this part of the story away from Middleton. He had a feeling that the man was not going to take it well.

One is titled ENCHANTED and the other is titled WOLVIRE, both appear to be writings from someone named VNB. Venus randomly flips through the pages of the two novels and then believes that they must also be fiction novels. It is looks interesting. Venus would only try to turn the book back to the first page to read it, when the sound of footsteps could be heard entering the library. Venus stood rigidly, waiting. A man who seems older than Venus stops in the doorway. His eyes gape as he sees Venus standing while carrying an artificial torch. The man carries a weapon similar to a rogue in his right hand.

There was a good chance that his arrival had not been noticed - by anyone. For a moment he sat motionless in the silent vehicle, a shaft of light from the glass front of the drugstore falling cleanly across the upper part of his chest, picking out the bulge in the vest pocket of his frayed denim jacket, spotlighting the dull metallic grey of the projecting handle. Highlighted in this way it looked almost obscene: he raised his left hand nervously to hide it from his own view.

He knew where all of his victims were, including those who were hidden from the naked eye. He could feel it. “You can’t fool me, Arman.” The invisible man froze, seemingly confused. “What should I do?” Farizad breathed exasperatedly. Normally, he would engage in physical fights, however, right now, he is incapable of doing so because he was aware of his own strength. Yet, his attribute was his strong forte. Therefore, he went down to an anticlimax and cliche fight. “How about you turn off your invisible switch?” Instantly, Arman appeared with a baffled expression.

I said, grateful my voice didn’t shake much. A pause. Then calmly, he spoke. “I warned you about restricted areas.” “You watch people sleep!” “For protection.” “That’s not protection! That’s insanity!” Silence followed briefly. “You opened a locked door inside my home.” “You investigated my entire life!” “You agreed to the contract.” “That doesn’t make this normal!” Another quiet pause and I could practically feel him listening carefully now. God, even while being invisible, this man somehow controlled entire rooms. I hated how strongly I felt that.

Turning the music off, I grab the lavender and put it in a tiny glass vase, and set it in the center of the long ebony black dining table. Walking out of the conjoined dining room and kitchen I grab my book, my water bottle, and a blanket. I set the water and blanket by the back door that leads to the porch, and the beach a little off, and head back to the kitchen with my book. Of human bondage, by W. Somerset Maugham. The book itself isn't bad, but from my point of view, it's terribly bland. I like more poetic works. But also a hint of darkness. The best example is the poem, In the Desert, by Stephen Crane, from his book The Black Riders and Other Lines. It has a sense of dystopia that I ca

Another thing I owed to Kyle's influence, whether I wanted to or not. The night deepened outside my windows, but I kept working. As long as I focused on clean lines and precise measurements, I didn't have to think about grey eyes or gentle hands or strange defenses of my honor. Until. I fell asleep at my desk, dreams filled with curved glass and captured light and a man who defended me to my father but couldn't stay to face what that might mean.

It was killing me little by little, and I was afraid that there would be nothing left soon. I sighed and wandered over to my window. It did not open, but it did not matter whether it did or not. Nobody would ever notice the invisible girl in the window that needed someone to see her. Sadly, nobody ever did. The only reprieve that I got in my life was being able to watch the people who walked around the streets as they went about their day blissfully unaware that evil truly did exist across the street from them. I was just thankful that they had not met it. True evil always wore designer clothes and a cruel smirk as he witnessed my body filling up with scars the longer that I was here. It ple

Elva clenched her hands tightly. “You reap what you show, isn’t that correct?” said Agatha. Elva was wheezing as she tried to catch her breath. “No! No, it cannot be.” She looked around. She was thinking, “I got to get out of here. I can still use that stupid man’s ability to escape. Yes, yes, I can do that. I can go invisible. When she thinks I’m not here, she will lower the walls and I can run. I will make my escape!”