The Man In The Iron Mask Novel Novels & Stories

Blood streaked one side of his face, drying against his skin. He looked older than the boy she remembered. Harder. But unmistakably him. Someone stood across from him. A man dressed in white armor unlike anything Lyra had ever seen. Not bone. Not steel. The surface resembled polished ivory, smooth and unnatural. A featureless mask hid his face completely. “She is coming,” the masked man said. Kaelen slowly lifted his head. Exhaustion lined his face, but defiance remained. “Then she'll kill you.” The masked man laughed.

He said, scrutinizing her like some entertainment monkey. Isadora spoke through gritted teeth, "What? Who are you people?" "With that tone of yours, you seem not to understand your situation right now," The masked man spoke in a frigid tone, "You are in no position to ask questions, woman." What's with this dude? She thought. "You either release me or face consequences you would never recover from." Isadora fumed, already tired of playing captive. The corner of the masked man's mouth twitched In amusement. The victim dares to be so bold even under the presence of a gun, which gives her such courage.

Isabella didn’t notice as she continued walking down despite the darkness. "Please!!! I beg you. Spare me," she heard a man begging through painful screams. Isabella finally saw the man and her expression froze. He was tied to an iron chair and chained all over, his body covered in blood. Above his head, a single lightbulb was lit, providing just enough light to see him. Isabella’s eyes moved to the man’s fingers; her eyes widened in shock and she gasped, quickly covering her mouth. This caught the attention of the bodyguards, who turned in her direction. Out of instinct, she quickly hid. Isabella didn't dare breathe freely, fearing she would be heard. After a while, there was silence. Even

He bend down to pick the note book and perused through it. The content made the masked man look back at the still man on the floor. His eyes shone, depicting some admiration and awe in them. It was such a pity that the unconscious man who is probably almost dead was not part of them. He would have been an asset that could make their organisation more lethal. The masked man decided to go back to check on the figure lying on the floor. He soon stood above the figure. A few seconds passed by as he analysed the man's body . If he could say to himself, the man's back was sexy . Was his face sexy too? He wondered.

Ivy quickly opened her eyes to know what happened. And there she saw a man wearing a mask on his face that only his lips can be seen. He's wearing a black cloak with a golden lace in the edge. A golden armor suit and a silver sword he's holding with a blood in the blade that came from the guard. It's seems like he belong into some royalty. "Who are you? Why did you save me?" Wynona ask the man who is now helping the young girl to stand up. He take off his cloak and covered Wynona's body because the other parts we're revealed.

The heavy chassis absorbed the assault, sparks flying off the metal. The world went silent. The rear window slid down. Even in this chaos, the man inside was terrifyingly calm. I couldn’t see his whole face, just a delicate silver mask covering one half, and a pair of ice-blue eyes as deep as an abyss. “Can you move?” his voice was a low, magnetic rumble, full of a dangerous charm that demanded obedience. I gritted my teeth and nodded. A hand in a black leather glove emerged, offering a small silver canister.

Everything screamed and ran, but I had nothing to lose. “This way.” The masked man said. I walked behind him, giving me time to assess the man. He was very tall, bald, had this Russian accent, and gave off a mafia aura. His hands were crossed behind him, revealing a colored tattoo. A dragon or a snake? I couldn't really tell, but whatever it was, it had scales. We finally entered the warehouse; it was practically empty, with only two chairs and a table in the middle. The whole place felt cold, like an old Russian interrogation room devoid of any weapons or signs of life.

he ordered with much more authority. The young woman trembled as she heard him again... She knew she had no choice but to obey him... So she slowly turned around and closed her eyes, and when she opened her eyes with her heart pounding in her temples, she let out a frightened scream. Not only was the man holding a weapon, he was wearing a... mask. A mask that covered the upper right side of his face including his eye and forehead... The mask was made of steel or iron, she didn't have time to make the distinction in her head. It was not frightening but she did not expect it... The other part of his face was rather normal. He was shirtless and wearing simple mini shorts. He was the kind of han

"No. That's a lie! Jamie would never abandon me! You're lying to me! Or... or the half-hour isn't up yet!" He didn't argue. Instead, he reached out and ripped the blindfold from her eyes. Harsh light seared her vision. She flinched, blinking rapidly until the room came into focus. Before her was a tall, broad-shouldered man in an impeccably tailored suit, his face hidden behind a grotesque bronze mask, his voice still distorted by a modulator. His every movement was fluid, controlled—this was no common thug. But she still had no idea who he was.

Although she had only seen him once before, Selina immediately recognized him as the mysterious man she had encountered in the wrong private room at Velvet Noir. She slowly reached out her hand, carefully moving towards the man's mask. The inexplicable familiarity about him — if she could just remove the mask, it would solve the mystery. Just as her fingertips were about to touch the mask, the man who seemed unconscious suddenly opened his eyes. His ink-black eyes dangerously glared at her for a moment. Perhaps due to his weakness, it was less of a glare and more of a weak, sidelong glance at Selina. Selina's fingers touched the man's mask, feeling the cold, hard texture, much like the man's