The Man Behind the Mask

It was late at night, and the neighborhood was so quiet that I could hear the distant meows of stray cats. I lay alone in bed, clutching the thin blanket between my legs, shifting restlessly.

Despite the cool air from the air conditioning, my body burned with heat, and the blanket offered little relief. I let out a few frustrated groans, unable to endure the discomfort any longer.

Eventually, I made up my mind and reached for the drawer of my nightstand, pulling out a toy I had recently purchased. Even though I was alone at home, my cheeks flushed as I opened the packaging.

I hesitated briefly before switching it on, following the instructions that came with it. The gentle hum filled the room, soon accompanied by the sound of my quickening breath.

The rave reviews I read online weren’t exaggerating. The intense relief that swept through my body and the warmth spreading across my face were proof enough.

It had been five long months since I’d felt anything like that. The tension drained from my limbs, leaving me lying there, basking in the afterglow.

As I lay there, my mind wandered back to the last time I had real, physical contact. That was four months ago when my husband had come home drunk after a night out.

By then, we had started fighting constantly and sleeping in separate rooms. However, that night, he mistook me for someone else and was unusually passionate. I figured it was a chance to reconcile, so I did not resist.

That night, I got pregnant.

My name is Elizabeth Crane. I married my husband, Mark Russell, a year ago, after being set up on a blind date. For the first two months, things were great, but then it all started falling apart. I thought getting pregnant would be the turning point in our relationship, but instead, it marked the end of our marriage.

As soon as I found out I was pregnant, Mark moved out and told me to get an abortion. He said he wanted a divorce. I knew he was cheating, but I never expected him to be so cold-hearted, abandoning both his wife and child for some other woman.

I’m not one to cling to a man who doesn’t want me, so I agreed to the divorce. However, I refused to get rid of the baby. Luckily, I had savings from my previous job as an executive, so I quit my job and focused on taking care of myself and the baby.

What I didn’t expect was how much my body would change during the pregnancy. I had always been indifferent to intimacy before, but now, especially in the second trimester, I found myself craving physical touch more and more each day. I was too embarrassed to ask my doctor about it, so I started finding ways to take care of it myself when I was home alone.

By the second trimester, the baby was stable, so I wasn’t too worried about causing any issues. That was when I decided to buy a toy online as a little treat for myself, and to my surprise, it worked wonders. In fact, I was already thinking about ordering a few more.

Just as I was about to place an order, I heard a rustling sound coming from the living room.

Since Mark moved out, I had been living alone, so there was no way anyone should be in the house. My heart started racing—could Mark have come back? He was the only one with a key to this place.

Thinking of that possibility, I panicked and shoved the toy under the blankets.

"Who's there? Mark, is that you?" I called out nervously.

The noises stopped immediately.

If it wasn’t Mark, then who was it?

My heart pounded as I carefully got out of bed, determined to check it out. I always turned off the lights before going to sleep, so the house was dark.

Opening the bedroom door, I could barely make out the shadowy shapes in the pitch-black living room. I fumbled in the dark, feeling my way toward the light switch. However, just as I reached out, a gust of wind swept past me.

Before I could scream, I felt someone—tall and strong—grab me from behind and slam me against the wall.