Unmasked Bleach Novels & Stories

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.

The lights turned dim as the music started to get louder. I rolled my eyes then wore my mask. "I'm going to the restroom. Looks like the ball is about to start any moment now." I expertly tossed the USB to my brother before entering the restroom. I put on my white gloves after retouching my makeup. I also tied my hair back in a stylish way. I still want to look gorgeous while exchanging bullets with those dumbasses. I was almost done when Clea entered the restroom and locked it. She's playing with a dagger with an evil smirk. "Shall we finish everything right here, right now, little sis?"

When I finally stepped back, the room looked so much better. Outside, Gracie slept peacefully, and Billy sat beside her watching her like I asked him to. I warned him not to talk to anyone and just wait for me. Next was the bathroom and it was a war I was ready to win. I pulled on gloves, tied a mask over my face, and scrubbed every inch of the cramped bathroom. Not only did I soak the toilet and the sink with bleach, I washed every crack and crevice until all the green grime and dirt was gone. I also threw out every prescription bottle I knew Pat Allen used to get high right in the trash.

The faint scent of it mingled with the metallic tang of adrenaline in his mouth. Alexander slid a letter opener from the drawer, fingers tightening around the handle. He made one clean incision along the flap, careful not to tear the contents. Inside was a single sheet of paper, crisp, typed in a sharp, professional font. No signature. No name. Just words meant to strip away control:

Closing the door gently behind him, Melody grumbled grudgingly under her breath as her feet pattered against the floor directed to her room. Grabbing several warm clothes and her favourite green jacket, Melody headed for the bathroom adjacent to her room. She turned the tap on the shower, testing the water before stripping off her pyjamas. Goosebumps arose immediately but she let out a content moan when she stood under hot water cascading from the showerhead. After fifteen minutes, she reluctantly stepped out of the shower and wiped the fog off the small, square mirror. As she dressed, her attention drifted to the ugly puckered claw marks and pale scars marred her delicate skin.

"The supernatural world is bigger than you think, nephew And right now you off all people need to be on the low." "What do you mean?" Her hands hovered on my exposed neck. Shit the jacket!? It must have fallen outside. “On no account should you forget to apply your masking powder, the bluecreek town are friendly to the other supernatural, but not to us…” “Why is that, aunt?” I asked the very questions, I know the answer too. “There are things…” “...better left unsaid” I finished for her what she wa about to say, already standing up to head to my room.

Blood smears across the carpet, dark streaks that'll never come out. Good thing this place sees worse things than murder. The bathtub is barely big enough, but I manage to fold him inside. His head lolls at an unnatural angle. I turn away, focusing on the next step. Bleach. Lots of it. The motel's supply closet is a joke—just cleaning rags and half-empty bottles. But there's enough bleach to burn away DNA. I pour it over everything: the carpet, the walls, the doorknobs. The chemical smell makes my eyes water.

I shouldn't be this dramatic, nothing happened. I was applying the face mask when someone knocked the bathroom's. "Come in." "Hails, look-" Shane stepped in, flinching at the vapor and his train of thought got interrupted and he frowned at me. "What is that?" I rolled my eyes. "A face mask." "Why is it green?" he grimaced disgusted. "Gross." "You wanted something?" "Oh, yeah, look." he showed me his fist and I had to double check, gawking as I took in the knuckle-duster there.

Please, I implore you—order her hands broken and have her thrown out of Baymouth. Emery glanced at her coldly, then indifferently ordered Hector Woodward, his butler, "Hector, turn on the projection screen in the main hall and pull up the original surveillance footage for number 24." The giant projection screen directly opposite the lounge slowly descended. All the guests crowded around, and the number of viewers in the live stream soared past five million. Everyone was brimming with anticipation. The screen lit up. The footage showed me ascending the stage, my face hidden behind a fox mask.

she yelled after me. I walked into the kitchen to see Blake standing in front of the sink, his hands soapy up to his forearms as he dipped them back into the sink. He had on a tight white tee that showed off his rippling back muscles as he moved around the kitchen. My tongue darted out to wet my lips and I gulped at the sight. I stalked over to him, making sure to be quiet so he wouldn't notice and grabbed his ass, making him jerk in fright.