Crimson Mask Novels & Stories

Her smile was carved in cold precision, lips painted the color of blood remembered. “You always did underestimate me,” Valentina said softly. “You thought fire would cleanse. But fire only transforms.” Bianca’s dagger trembled once then steadied. “You’re a ghost wearing flesh.” “Perhaps. Or perhaps I’m the consequence of your unfinished sins.” Behind Valentina, shadows moved figures cloaked in crimson. Their masks were carved in the likeness of serpents devouring their own tails. The Crimson Pact is alive, reborn, and loyal to her.

I hurried towards it. The bodies turned out to be witches from smaller covens. I knew immediately that they were the missing ones. As I turned around to call for help, a hand grabbed me from the clump, making me squeal hard. I looked down at the owner of the hand and at the face screamed once, long. Her face was mangled beyond recognition and only strips of skin were on her hand, showing the bones and lots of blood. “Shkk- she- very strong. Brown mask. Disappear w- wi- tth cu- cu- rrrsed- ones.” She hissed, blood gurgling from her mouth. She fell back, her bloody hand trailing blood down my hand.

ILANA. The Blood Moon Festival came five days too early. On the third evening, the moon bathed its eerie, crimson glow over the Nightshade Pack. This was an event rarely experienced and considered by the pack to be a sign from the Moon Goddess, hastening the fate of two destined mates. The pack was in an uproar of joyful frenzy. The whole of the pack square hummed with excitement, as though even the air vibrated in anticipation. I faltered at the door to Rana's small cabin and brushed off invisible lint from the pale blue dress that Rana had lent me for tonight. "Rana, are you sure about this?" I asked, trying to keep the nerves from edging my voice.

Then humanity needed to change with it. At first, Husen worked alongside them willingly. He believed they were searching for a cure. For months they studied ancient blood samples preserved beneath the station. The samples behaved unlike anything known. They regenerated damaged tissue. They repaired cells. They adapted to foreign organisms instead of rejecting them. The researchers named it...Crimson Blood. Husen warned them repeatedly. "We don't understand it." Their answer never changed. "We'll never understand it if we're afraid to touch it."

Mom rarely swore, but when she did, it was comedy gold. “Thanks, Mom,” I whispered, pulling away and sliding my white mask over my face. It was beautifully crafted: two silver wolves howling at the moon etched into the forehead, with thin black detailing that traced the cheekbones. The mask made me feel different—stronger, bolder. Like maybe I could fake bravery for one night. “I’m going to find Alpha and Luna Silvermane,” she said, squeezing my hand once before disappearing into the crowd. And just like that, the warmth of her touch vanished.

The man with a mask over his face. *

His presence was so dim, not even assassins could pinpoint him even if they tried. His eyes shone with a crimson glint as he kept observing his surroundings. He blended himself among the crowd. While he inched towards an immense building, that stood proudly in his way. His hand reached for his collar, and he pulled up his mask above his nose. Half of his face was now covered with his assassin's mask, but since this was Glitch public shelter, this kind of shady appearance was pretty common. Each step he took, his heartbeat dulled. 'I really wanted to avoid this!', Creed uttered behind his mask, "been a while since i flipped my switch on!"

I needed full anonymity. “Yes,” I said again, firmer this time. “But tonight, I want one.” She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “All right. A mask it is. What color?” Anything but red, nearly slipped from my lips. But that may give away too much and leave room for questions. “What colors are available?” “Five. Blue, green, white, yellow, and red.” Blue was always Moira’s courtesan signature identity, both in Pleasur’io and now in Naked Den. Taking it would be like impersonating her, and the very idea left a sour taste in my mouth.