Booktok Masks Novels & Stories

Nyx mumbled. My brows creased in sudden curiosity. “And what would that be?” She seem to muse for a while before she answered. “I think a gas mask, that would prevent you from inhaling the air in the pack but the oxygen from the mask would supply all the air you need.” A smile tugged my lips as I thought of Nyx's suggestion. A gas mask? One that would look like a fashion mask. It was a brilliant idea, and I was grateful for her quick thinking.

she told me, very matter-of-factly. The other issue I kept bringing up was about the mask. To her credit, she had managed to find one that was relatively lightweight but fit snuggly and did a pretty good job of rendering me unrecognizable. It was a Guy Fawkes mask, like the one from the movie 'V for Vendetta', all white with a big smile, curly mustache and thin goatee. My concern was less about them recognizing me through the mask and more about how to explain why I was wearing a mask at all. I hadn't spent a lot of time around male strippers, but I was pretty sure that they didn't normally wear masks. To address this, Rachel had come up with a pretty elaborate backstory.

Jason slammed the book shut and shoved it back onto the shelf. How much longer can my mask hold? How is it possible for me to avoid this? The questions circled in his mind as he left the library. He needed air, needed space to think. The greenhouse corridors were usually quiet, peaceful even. Maybe he could find some calm there. But when Jason entered the greenhouse, the air felt wrong. Too still. Too humid. The plants seemed to press in around him, invasive and overwhelming. Their scents mixed together in a way that made his head spin.

"Every movement needs a name." Aria looked at the women. Some were crying. Some were laughing. All of them were seen. "They already have one," Aria said. She pointed to a group of girls in the front row. They were holding up signs. WE ARE THE MASKED WOMEN. "The Masked Women," Noah repeated. "I like it. Sounds like a superhero team." "We are," Aria said. She leaned her head on his shoulder. The book was a bestseller. The fortress was secure.

Nora stopped and hit the wall. “You're right,” Alvin replied. “We should go to a hotel, then. Fortunately, I have my debit card in my pocket.“ Nora nodded her reply, her gaze looking uncertain and anxious. “We still have the problem of your face, though. I'm sure as hell not going to allow you to do what you suggested some minutes ago.“ “Damn!“ Alvin cursed. “Is there a way I can get a mask here?“ Nora stared at him like she was thinking about something. She opened her bag and shuffled round the corners before bringing out a tiny doctor's nose mask—big enough to cover from his nose to chin.

I turned my head slowly to the direction of the voice, my heart beating so loudly I swore everyone could hear it. And then he stepped forward. A man. No. Not just a man. A beast of a man. He was huge, broad shoulders, long legs, and an aura so powerful that even the most arrogant nobles seemed to shrink under it. But the weirdest part of him was the mask he was wearing. A heavy thing that covered most of his face, hiding it completely. His clothes were expensive, his posture was confident, but there was something strange about him. Something dangerous. Also, the way he smelled.

Ruby, upon hearing my voice, looked up from the policewoman's arms, her eyes swimming in tears. Her look was a tangled mess of emotions: fear, shame, but above all, a desperate hope, like she was clinging to a lifeline, and a barely perceptible flicker... A silent question, checking if I was sticking to the plan. Choking back sobs, she reached for me. "Honey... honey..." I moved quickly, brushing past Seth's scorching stare, and wrapped Ruby in my arms, shielding her from the prying lenses with my back, a fortress of protection.

"It's so strong, I can feel the effect," I nod at her. "Yes, it is. It's really effective." She brings back her head in. "How do I do it?" I took the brown paper bag from her. There's a packet of face masks close by so I take it out and hand one over to her. "Put it on. I want to open the bottle. It's going to be toxic," She takes the glove from the tip of my finger and slips it on. The cork of the tiny bottle opens with a pop and black smoke pours out of it before disappearing into the thin air.

“That does little to reassure me.” Brandon leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Everyone here wears masks. Staff included. Patrons remain anonymous, and identities are protected. Think of it as… academic masquerade.” Hart reached into a sleek black box resting beside him and produced a finely crafted mask. It was matte black with subtle silver detailing—elegant. “For you,” he said, offering it with a small smile. Noah hesitated before taking it. The material was smooth beneath his fingertips, cool and unfamiliar. It concealed the upper half of his face—just enough to render him unrecognizable.

“Nope. Didn’t you check our mail?” I stared at the abomination in his hand like it had personally insulted my ancestors. “Well, lucky for you, I came prepared.” He raised an eyebrow. “Oh no.” “Oh yes.” I turned, dramatically. “Bob! Masks!” Right on cue, Bob strutted over like he’d just stepped off a runway in Milan instead of... wherever we were. He handed me a box like it contained the crown jewels. Inside: sleek, custom-designed masks that said we RSVP'd with style.