Crimson Mask Novels & Stories

He calmly rises from the floor and lets his form take over him fully before looking straight at the woman and speaks, “Thank you for telling me the answer yourself.” Ophelia stares in horror at the face of the human, stumbling back in shock. She looks into the red eyes, staring at her with murderous intention. She is even more horrified when she sees his whole face. Black cracks are spread all over his face, much like the face of a cracked China doll, his hair no longer blonde but black.

My grip tightens on the phone. No. No, no, no. My heart slams against my ribs, my pulse roaring in my ears. I watch him—Ghost—standing in that fucking room, his hands shaking, desperation clear in his eyes. He wasn’t pleading for our lives. He was trying to undo what he did. “Why should we believe you?” the masked man asks. Ghost lets out a bitter, humorless laugh. “How else would I know the name? Come on, why do you think I told that idiot to stop?” His hands clench at his sides, his whole body tense. “Just take the three million and let us go.”

“I assumed as much.” Eve leans forward. “What kind?” Alex doesn’t hesitate. “Red.” That gets a few smiles. A few raised brows. “Head to toe, masks also,” Alex continues. “Not tactical black. Not camouflage. Red Death doesn’t hide.” She looked at Eve. And repeated the words from the warden "All that red. That’s what makes it easy to see you coming.” Maz lets out a quiet laugh. “Subtle.” “They already called us demons,” Alex says. “We’re not here to convince them otherwise.”

I muttered, leaning closer so he could hear me over the buzz of the crowd, “Reagan doesn’t even know the names of half these people.” He smirked, his gaze sweeping the room. “Everyone’s wearing a mask.” “It’s a masquerade party, I think.” I spotted a nearby table stacked with ornate masks, clearly intended for anyone who needed one. I grabbed two and turned to Blaze, holding one out to him. “Here. Let’s blend in.” I slipped my mask on—a delicate, silver piece adorned with tiny crystals—and gestured for Blaze to do the same. He took his time, studying his black and gold mask like it was some kind of alien artifact before finally putting it on.

I twisted my hair into a loose updo, dabbed red lipstick on my lips, and waited by the window, watching snowflakes dust the street. His SUV pulled up right on time, engine purring like a predator. Vic leaned over to open the door, eyes raking me from head to toe. “Damn, Selena. You'll have them popping cocks early.” He said, handing me a mask, it was a black lace, Venetian style, covering half my face. “The theme is masquerade. Keep it anonymous.” I tied it on, the anonymity sending an illicit thrill up my spine.

However, my breath caught when I opened the thick paper and broke the seal. “You have been invited to a private masquerade party. At 9 p.m. on Saturday night. The Manor of Crimson. Put on black. Put on your mask. Get rid of your limitations.” That was all. No signature, no specifics. That enticing promise alone. I was unable to stop thinking about it for three nights. Masquerade. There was a sense of mystery and eroticism in the term itself. I imagined sparkling chandeliers, Venetian masks, and strangers touching without really knowing who they were touching.

“The colors are orange and black, which would indicate Halloween, but there are hearts on it with ‘I LUV U’ and ‘BE MINE’ on them, which are Valentine’s Day candies.” Zane frowned and nodded. “And that mask over there, it’s got playing cards on it, which would indicate it’s for a gambling or casino theme, but it’s also got a Red Cross on it, which makes no sense.” “I’ve donated to the Red Cross,” he said absently. “Not the Moon Cross?” I asked, which basically did the same thing as the Red Cross, but for werewolves. “Them too.” I looked at another mask and laughed. “Oh dear.”

Demyan’s POV The fabric of my cloak brushed against the polished stone floor like the whisper of a storm. Deep crimson, it fell behind me in regal waves, the color of blood and fire, and today, of defiance. I pulled the hood up over my head, letting the shadow fall over my face, then fastened the black mask. It covered my expression but not the heat that simmered beneath my skin. I was not here as a son today, I was here as the Alpha-to-be, and I wanted answers.

Coated with black skin and eyes just as red and demonic. “Retreat!” Ascena calls out to all, her voice echoing over the chaos. There is no flight. There is only fight at his point. Crimson leaps in front of us, His fur form large and vibrating with rage. His fur bristles and his teeth gleam. Aimed at Senko. “Join me son, or meet your fate with your friends,” Senko says to Crimson. Crimson roars at his father. Challenging him when Senko’s shadows begin to overshadow him. Taking hold of the Grimalkin whose whole body begins to glow – fighting off the magic that is slowly going to kill him.

“She even tried to take her own life.” She struggles in my arms, baring her teeth. “You monster!” I tighten my hold around her neck and she gasps for breath. The elders around yell my name, urging me ‘not kill her' because she definitely knows something, but there's this rage, this insane urge to claw her thumping heart from her small chest. Her eyes start to close. I loosen my hold, my voice extremely calm. “Tell me what you know about the Crimson Masquerade.” Lancelot’s calm voice cuts through the air. “It’s nothing new, Alpha. It's a cursed banquet or celebration they have every decade. Due to how secretive they are, no one knows much about it.”