Novel & Cerita Unmasked Bleach

I didn’t know the last advertisement I did in New York was for a Korean company! My hair had been dyed dark brown up until a month ago and curled up into a low bun. A white and gold Venetian masquerade mask is perched on my nose and held by my right hand to cover the top half of my face. My skin tone has a bronze tint to it thanks to the foundation. My closed lids are showing off the glittering gold coloured eye shadow that blends perfectly with my skin, and dark waterproof liner emphasized the contours of my eyes. My eyelashes have never looked so long and dark before, and the light blush on my cheeks gave it a rosy glow as my full lips lift in a half-smile, showing off the bright red lipst

I could change my features a little, bleach my hair and recolor it and highlight my face differently with makeup, but I didn’t think it would be enough. I needed a foolproof way to interact with him without him knowing. Is it themed? Themed? Yeah, like a masquerade or something? A few moments passed, but as I expected, he replied with a firework emoji and excitement. That sounds fun! Yes, I’ll make sure everyone knows. It’ll be great. I know the crowd will like it. I grinned and sent a list of things I would need: beach, some colored dye, and a mask. I checked my closet searching for something that would do for a costume when I found a slinky indigo cocktail dress with a black lace overlay.

Iris Masked Muse. The username was clear as day, along with the teaser image of my masked face and bare shoulders, save for the faint hint of lace right where my chest was cut off. 'A little teaser for what came next’ I'd called it back when I'd uploaded the photo. It was visible. The notification for tonight’s stream still glowed at the top. Oh God. Heat flooded my cheeks. I dropped to my knees, snatching the phone and clutching it against my chest as if that could erase it.

Standing, I drag him toward the bathroom, every step making my heart pound harder. I rip off my own damp clothes, tossing them onto the sink, and switch on the shower, the water sputtering before running steady. It’s not warm enough yet, but I don’t care. I pull him into the spray with me, peeling his ruined clothes off piece by piece, trying not to let the sight of his bruised and battered body destroy me. I focus on his hands first, trying to clean away the filth so I can see where he’s bleeding. His nails are cracked, torn to the quick, and some are missing entirely from clawing at the bricks. My stomach churns at the sight.

Sabrina grabbed a big bottle of bleach and swung it at my head. I didn't even think. I blocked her arm and punched her right in the jaw. It was a solid hit. I felt the bone under my knuckles. The bleach bottle fell and shattered on the floor, splashing everywhere. She fell to her knees, holding her face. Blood was leaking through her fingers.

In the bathroom Lillah stared at her clothes, rumpled on the floor. Pour bleach on them if you're so worried, Neeri piped up, helpful but unsympathetic to Lillah’s clean-up efforts. You can deal with them later then. After coating the discarded garments with copious bleach rather than picking them up and having to take another shower because of the scent transfer, Lillah set about grabbing a brush to sweep up the trail of rubble she’d left through her quarters. You know what we should have done… Neeri grinned mercilessly, asked Kurt to come clean up.

Bryce, when looked at her dress, was speechless. "What's wrong?" she asked and Bryce replied, "Blair is wearing blue. Nobody else is supposed to wear this colour." "Why not?" Hope asked innocently when she replied, "Because it's unlucky for the bride. It's an old Irish tradition." "But it's teal not blue," Hope said to which Bryce replied, "Anything blue or close to blue." Hope knew about this and she deliberately made Amelia wear this colour. "Oh, forgive me. I didn't about this... I'm gonna change..." Amelia said to which Bryce replied, "No, it's okay. You don't need to. We will say you came right after the ring ceremony."

I pulled into his house, no need for forced entry, I had a mod, unlocked the door and strode peacefully to his bathroom. I pulled the knife out, wore my apron and pulled the knife on the neck, careful not to splash much blood on myself. I pulled my Journal, it was a little rough but it kept all that was left of my sanity. Dipping a feather into the cutthroat, I wrote, No. 57: unknown, but looks exactly like her. ***