Unmasked Bleach Novels & Stories

I closed my eyes, focusing entirely on breathing through the chemical fire in my chest. A soft click echoed near the entrance. Opening my eyes, I saw a man step into the room. He wore blue medical scrubs, a surgical mask covering his nose and mouth. A heavy plastic cooler hung from his shoulder. The overpowering stench of industrial bleach rolled off his clothes, making my nose burn. "Tracy? Hi, I'm Dr. Silas." the man said. His voice was muffled by the mask. "I have the Apex delivery. The synthetic enzyme."

“You’re already blond, Your Majesty. What do you need bleach for?” Zane stiffened behind me. Isaac’s lips curled into a faint smile. “I’m not the one who needs bleach,” he replied. “What are you implying?”

I twist the cap off the vial and drain it in one swallow. The taste is awful, like drinking liquid metal mixed with bitter herbs. It burns going down, coating my throat with fire. But almost immediately, I feel the change. My scent disappears. Not just muted like with the blockers I've been using, but gone completely. Like I've been erased from existence. The bond goes silent. The creature in front of us staggers, confusion flickering across its shifting features. "Where—? The marked one, where—?" But it's too late. Whatever was climbing the stairs has reached the top. Footsteps pause outside the doorway.

He uncuffed me and removed the blindfold. "Hey! Make sure you use the tissue before coming out", he said and shut the bathroom door. Surprisingly, I was no longer feeling the burning sensation. I am now normal but I lost my virtue to that fiendish man. What kind of spell do I fall under? I asked myself more than ten times. I scrubbed my body hard, I just wished I could wash his hands off my body. I punched myself in the face when I remembered how he kissed me back then.

I ignored the pains between my legs and proceeded to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me to avoid him walking on me. He might have his way with me here in the bathroom again. I was not ready for that. I might pass out. I grabbed the second toothbrush and made use of it. Turning on the shower, I stood underneath and washed myself. I took a soft sponge and did the necessary scrubbing. I washed myself and stared at my swollen eyes in the mirror. I washed my hair and after a few minutes, I was done.

Brett said before he smiled and winked at the girls from afar. Adam snorted. He’s ashamed to see Brett flirting around female humans as soon as he got discharged from hospital. ‘I guess he is indeed feeling okay,’ Adam concluded. “Stop flirting with anyone. It will get us more attention,” Adam commented. “Speaking of attention,” Brett murmured, as he put down his glass and stared at Adam from head to toe. “Why are you wearing a Bauta mask?” A bauta mask is mask the cover the full face. It hot square-ish jaw, large chin and no mouth.

"I’ll make sure you never forget." I grabbed the kitchen shears I’d swiped from the drawer. I hacked at the dark hair, watching the long, silky strands fall into the sink like dead things. Then, I grabbed the box of "Golden Honey" bleach I’d seen hidden in the back of the linen closet—the stuff Mom said we were too young for. I didn't care about being young. I didn't care about being pretty. I mixed the chemicals, the smell burning the back of my throat. I slathered it onto my head, my hands shaking with a fury that felt like fire.

he screamed, stepping back. I grabbed the bleach bottle and hit him on the side his head as hard as I could, causing him to step backward. I took advantage of his momentary unbalance as he rubbed his eyes, knowing that I only had a second. I unscrewed the cap from the bleach bottle and threw the contents at him, causing him to scream out in pain as bleach covered his face and hair. I grabbed the broom and, finding sudden strength, rammed my foot into the wooden handle, breaking it in half.

I wanted to rip the mask off, to let him see the monster and the woman, and to lose myself in the heat of his embrace. But as his fingers moved toward the silk ribbons at the back of my head, a cold splash of reality hit me. I am a murderer, I reminded myself. I am an impostor in a dead girl's palace. He is a man of the South, a man of secrets. If I let him see me—truly see me—I would lose the only armor I had left. The power of my eyes was my greatest weapon, but my mask was my greatest shield. Just as his fingers brushed the knot of the ribbon, I grabbed his wrist. My grip was unnaturally strong, fueled by the desperation of a cornered animal.

Two days later, in the opulent confines of Mace Sinclair's mansion, the billionaire businessman prepared for a crucial public appearance related to his ongoing merger for the energy plant project. The event held significant importance for his business endeavors, and Mace was determined to make a strong impression. Dressed in a lavish, custom-tailored tuxedo that accentuated his imposing presence, Mace was ready to depart for the event. However, one major obstacle stood in his way—his niece, Seraphina.