The Man And The Yellow Hat Novels & Stories

His fingers slid smoothly, touching the lower notes, and his eyes remained exclusively on me, as he added: "So, dear God, if there is one thing I don't believe in, it's you.” The man stopped playing, and he opened a sad smile when he saw that only Vraxlon and I watched his show until the end. And that, unlike all the people who passed by him, we didn't offer any free swearing. On the contrary, Vraxlon looked in the pockets of his backpack and filled the man's hat with money. I hoped that the man's smile would widen, that his eyes would be filled with gratitude "and not that his face would turn pale and his eyes would widen. However, even if the exacerbated amount of money in his hat could br

I sat in the chair nearest the door because sitting nearest the door felt like the right instinct, and I waited, and the house waited around me, and nobody spoke. Then the front door opened. The man who walked in was tall, not as tall as Damien but close, with lighter colouring and a face that shared certain features with Damien's the way different editions of the same book share a cover. You could see the connection if you were looking for it. The jaw, the set of the eyes, the particular way he held himself like he had grown up being told he was important and then at some point stopped believing it. He was maybe thirty. He was wearing a jacket that had been expensive once and was not anymor

And toward choice. That’s when I feel someone watching us from the other side of the road. Not the cars. Not the men who want control the car. But someone else. “Liam,” I said in a low voice. “Don’t react.” He doesn’t. His grip tightens just enough to tell me he heard. A man steps out from behind a closed bookstore. He’s older. Late fifties, maybe. Grey hair cut short. His coat is worn at the elbows like he’s had it for years. His hands are empty and visible. He looks so… tired.

“Aye girlie, ya got any puffs?” Startled, Scarlett spins around to find a shabby man in his seventies. The man has shaggy white hair and he’s wearing a half torn hat. His shirt is in tatters and he stinks of alcohol. Scarlett shakes her head. “No,” she replies. “I don’t smoke.” “I know you don’t smoke, kitten.” She blinks in surprise. Kitten? The man raises his head and hazel eyes sparkle at her. Scarlett is so shocked that she almost yelps.

I can't imagine what they'll do to me. “You know, there are a lot of good people here,” a man says, showing his yellow teeth. He smells like dead bodies and decay. His leather clothes are stained with blood. “I need a new pet. And out of all of the people here, you seem perfect. You seem like you would be great for my experiments.”

"Oy! Spare some loose change? I'm willing to do anything, provided it's not illegal." Rhysand's head snapped back, and my eyes opened, blinking rapidly. With a combination of shock and extreme embarrassment, we leaped apart as though scorched, our bodies abruptly rigid. Standing a few feet away, holding a ragged hat, was a middle-aged man. His face was marked with the harsh lines of exhaustion and poverty, and his clothes were worn and patched. "Anything, pretty lady. Something to keep me warm this cold night," he amended, shaking his equally dirty hat at both of us.

He had a plastered leg, which must have been why he had gone missing for days. But he wasn't giving up on me, as he was willing to get close in broad daylight, instead of just missing me. With that in mind, I smiled and nodded. "Of course, I have plenty of time. I didn't know you were such a kind man, Mr. Lopez." Hearing my praise, Zac's pale cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "I just can't help it. Poor creature…"

he snorted, small fangs glinting from under his lips “you really thought I was going to shoot you!” The other man, who had yellow eyes with black spots, yanked the other two to their feet then came over to his friend. “I'm sure Stripes pissed himself” he spoke, jerking his thumb behind him. As the purple-eyed man looked, I was approached by the other who squatted down to inspect me.

the woman whispered to a man in a red hat who was holding an unconscious man in a black three piece suit. From the look of the man who was currently lying on the floor, Via could conclude that he was a rich man who was about to be robbed. The man in the red hat was trying to pull the wallet from the rich man when suddenly the blond man’s hand grabbed the wrist of the man in the red hat, making the woman gasp and back away slowly. “I told you to do it quickly! Damn it!” cursed the woman while taking out a knife from behind the clutch that had been in her grip.

" the man in yellow said icily, his own fist flying out to meet the old man. Thud! The sound of the impact echoed as the old man staggered back several steps, his energy roiling and blood spilling from his mouth. "Mr. Pach!" Sophronia exclaimed. "I heard all these wild tales about Sophronia's legendary protector. I was expecting someone with god-like powers, but this is all you've got?" the man in yellow said, twirling his delicate fingers. The old man spat out blood again, his eyes fierce with resolve. He summoned every ounce of his strength, his presence intensifying as he charged at his adversary.