All Chapters of Mask Off: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40
41 Chapters
Thirty
Stir the earth just a little too deep, you might find its trouble responding.Bring the dust too her and you will get drowned in it.What you deemed wrong, another considers glorious.In the end, it's all a matter of perception.**** Raging flames, raging flames, That was all she felt. Her blood burning and the fire coursing through her, consuming every part of her.  Conflagrated,She was burnt in anger, her chest heaved with every breath she took. She would choke him till his breath left him and his heart never beats again but she was locked behind bars like the criminals she used to toss there and the police could not get a hold of him either. &nbs
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Thirty-One
Christy had yet again found herself squinting to the light emitted when the door creaked open. She had lost count of time. She shivered both from cold and fear as his heavy steps moved closer, each sound sending another wave of trembling down her spine. She knew he had succeeded in breaking her, the fight was over before it even began. She was weaker than she thought and although she hated herself even more as every day went by, she knew she had woken up into even more horrors than she had ever received.Frightened, she stood to her feet, pressing herself back into the wall. Maybe if she pressed hard enough, she would disappear from the terror he was about to descend on her, maybe she had a little bit of hope to escape the terror that might befall her after the stunt she had tried to pull off. Her lips quaked just as every part of her body as she watched his huge figure strode down the stairs. Instinctively, she evaded his gaze, trying to keep away from hi
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Thirty-Two
Sarah was sixteen when she first appeared on the news. She was supposed to return from school, five days ago. According to the police, it must have happened on her way home considering they found her bag on the road leading to their house.Sarah was still in high school when she went missing. The police promised to do everything in their power to get her back, but the police never keep to their word.Sarah became the talk of the town in no time, and worst of all, the police had made the mistake of stating her address.***Kara laid cuffed on the cold floor, the anger and hatred for Jones coursing through her. He had deceived her, made her believe she had avenged her sister only to find out she had not only worked with her sister’s killer, but she had also slept with him. The only thoughts in her head were the ones where she held a gun against his head, no last words,
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Thirty-Three
“Another dead end. Another fucking dead-end, FUCK...” Maria screamed out all the frustration she held inside.“One week, one fucking week, we've asked the whole village—” she raised her hands completely, then let them fall freely to her side, flapping with her thighs before bouncing back freely into the air. “—one bloody fucking week, all for what?” she sighed.The sun did not help in their quandary or the wind sending savage dust to their whole body.Maria and Andre stood in the middle of nowhere, left with only a truck and an angry burning their skin without mercy.“I understand your frustration Maria, I do, ” Andre spoke, trying to sound as witty as possible but within, he could not help but feel he was responsible for it all. He had made them waste a complete week moving door to door of a small town, around in circles without results.
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Thirty Four
“Another dead end. Another fucking dead-end, FUCK...” Maria screamed out all the frustration she held inside.“One week, one fucking week, we've asked the whole village—” she raised her hands completely, then let them fall freely to her side, flapping with her thighs before bouncing back freely into the air. “—one bloody fucking week, all for what?” she sighed.The sun did not help in their quandary or the wind sending savage dust to their whole body.Maria and Andre stood in the middle of nowhere, left with only a truck and an angry burning their skin without mercy.“I understand your frustration Maria, I do, ” Andre spoke, trying to sound as witty as possible but within, he could not help but feel he was responsible for it all. He had made them waste a complete week moving door to door of a small town, around in circles without results.
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Thirty-Five
Kara was eighteen when she first felt this way. The rage, the guilt. She had this new feeling, betrayal. It was the kind only a person you have known intimately could do. A lover, a spouse, a partner with whom you shared your bed and his. She felt betrayed by her own instincts. She saw the signs, clearly visible in front of her eyes but she looked the other way. Was the sex worth it? She was on the verge of breaking. She had told Andre to hold off because she would not want Maria to spend the rest of her life in jail hit but she knew it was all false. She wanted him as much as Maria did, and maybe even more.Kara had hated herself all these years, getting drunk, becoming a stripper, suicide attempts. She had sent her sister to her death.Sarah always wanted to go to a different town but Kara had taken a job online to work in a restaurant—going against Sarah's wish for the first time—she had chosen herself over Sarah for the fir
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Thirty-Six
The end was near and they knew it. The wind around them was heavy, who would blame it? Carrying the stench of betrayal and death. The thick woods was quiet, not the usual quiet—ghost silent. Only the approaching steps of Andre or should he be called Benjamin could be heard as they stepped away further, deeper, away from Maria in her own pull of blood.She had not put up a fight, she was not given the chance. Something betrayal would do. Shot in the back, and then her chest. Andre knew for sure she was dead. He picked the phone up, dialled a number and a similar phone rang somewhere inside a building. Jones picked the call, “Get the tickets ready, we will be leaving soon.” Jones put the phone back into his pocket, swiftly pulled a black gown with bright sparkles from a hanger. He made his way to the dungeon, “Put this on now, ” he tossed the piece of cloth to Christy, Christy briskly cladd
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Thirty Seven
The wind was whistling and the leaves hanging above the trees danced to its hums but there was something sad about these sounds. They didn't feel like the normal wind in a forest, they were more like sad cries tainted with blaring sirens driving in and out.  They were more like trampling feet against dead leaves and jamming of metals, clicking of cuffs and locking down of a crime scene.This was Kara's fourth point of view of a crime scene. First, she had appeared in crime scenes as police in uniforms, handling statements and reports, transporting suspects.Second, she had appeared in crime scenes as the detective in charge. These were her glorious moments, the moments she thought she read each scene as clearly as possible. The detective with states recognition and honours.Third, she appeared in the crime scenes as the victim. Unlike most of her victims, she had not turned dead. She was very much alive and able to na
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Thirty Eight
“Do you swear to tell nothing but the truth?”“Yes, I swear.”“proceed.”“My name is Paul Marshall, also known as Jones Brandon. I am the poetic killer but I was never alone. I had a partner, Andre Green, real name, Benjamin Miller. I am responsible for for the death of thirty young girls including Sarah Martins and Becky Gibson and my parents Mr and Mrs Green.Benjamin and I grew up in the same orphanage know and we had promised to get to each other no matter what separated us not even adoption. We had sworn an oath to stick with each other till death did us part and my only regret is death came too soon.”“Why did you kill those girls?”“In a staged accident to get away from his adopters, Benjamin lost a part of him which later became Andre, with every girl I killed, he sent a response kill and that was how we found each other.”“How did you communicate?”
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Thirty six
It was just a month since he had done it. A month since he had locked up the man who he supposedly spent his teenage with. The poetic killer. He was the poetic killer and he lived with him. He was the poetic killer, he had killed men, women and scribbled poems on them. Poems like the one he was staring at. Port Harcourt was a big city and also known for its notoriety. Jones is pacing around his room, his hand arched above his head as he stared at the screen.Breaking News!Rising Model found dead in her apartment.It was not possible. He was sure he had the right man in jail. His father. He called the prison immediately, it was late, but he didn't care. It was more than just any crime. It was a reputable killer. The killer the world hid from and some had called the face of death. It was the face of death again, hopefully not death itself.He pulled his reports from the pre
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