Fear Street Masks Novels & Stories

My chest tightens with a recognition I can’t place. I reach the door and pause. Through the gap, I see a bed angled toward the window, blinds drawn but leaking thin bands of early light. Machines stand sentinel, their screens alive with quiet green waves. And on the bed...... It’s me. I stop breathing. The figure lies perfectly still, and hair spread like a dark fan across the pillow. A pale blanket rises and falls with each slow inhale. The face, my face, holds the colour of morning milk. Eyes closed, Lips parted just enough to catch the soft hiss of oxygen.

My heart almost stops. I slowly lift my head as the familiar scent grows stronger. Then I see Mask standing beside my bed. Tall. Motionless. Watching me. I gasp in shock, overcome by intense fear. The darkness hides most of his face, but I don’t need to see it to know he’s wearing his black balaclava.

If not for the little movements of their chests, I wouldn't even know they were still breathing. This one was still standing, though, meaning he was probably the strongest of the bunch. This was going to be fun. I was going to break him, slowly and painfully. He must have read my facial features, because he whimpered. "Oh no! Don't be afraid. I am just here to —," I paused and I attempted to give him a reassuring smile, but it just turned into a menacing look. "Fuck that! Be very afraid because when I'm done with you, you'll wish you were never born," I hissed, taking a mask from the wall and slipped it over my face, leaving only my eyes visible. I really didn't want his blood on my face. He

Shocked, instead of finding maggots or rotten brains, I felt warm skin beneath the skull, as if. “It- it's a mask!” I gaped. “But how- why- what?...” I trailed off, utterly confused. Confusion turned quickly to anger- I pried the mask from his face. “How dare you trick me into thinking that hideous thing was real, that any of this crap existed!” I screamed, glancing at the heavy disguise in my hands, so life-like it could've been on the shelves of forensics lab. It was as if a skull had been sawed off at the brow, and the inside was moist, like living bone. With a shriek of disgust I hurled it at him,

Naked would be much better. “Later,” Chase promises. “Come on, we’re here.” He hands me a mask, and I place it on, following their lead. Each of them wears a different mask—creepy as hell clowns. If I were afraid of clowns, I’d probably be cowering right now. I don't have a clown one. Instead, I’m wearing a horrifying bunny mask, which feels more fitting for a horror movie than a hunting game. This whole setup feels more like the Purge than anything else, especially with the masks.

“I picked her out of the crowd, so let me start.” The rest of the men groaned with discontent as their friend adjusted his mask and stood right before her. The mask had an eerie smile extending from the left ear to the right, but placed on the forehead instead of his mouth. He had his chin covered with sharp stubble and a mouth which right then had a disdainful shape. Jasmine had already lost hers, she was trembling with fear, and her nose started bleeding. That was her trait - whenever she felt scared, the bleeding started and didn’t stop until she lay down with a piece of ice on it.

Maya retorted, folding her hands under her breast. "Good, I think we can work with that, even if you're both being extremely brute with your words," Becca said, frowning. "First of all, you should cover your faces," Becca handed each of us a mask. It was made like the face of an animal. Maya's face was a leopard, Naya's face was a hyena, Becca's face was a rabbit and my face was a deer. "Why do I get to wear a deer? Why not a Lion?" I frowned, wearing the mask.

Her skin was warm beneath my touch, soft as sin. “Listen to me,” I said, each word deliberate. “Masks are for people afraid of being seen. I don’t fear them. They fear me.” Her breath hitched, just slightly, the sound subtle but unmistakable. She didn’t say anything, but I felt her shift—just enough to lean into me, into the danger. She slipped the mask on, the black satin molding to her face like it had been made for her. It framed her eyes perfectly—those dark, knowing eyes that undid me with a single glance—and left her mouth bare, parted in silent invitation.

What the hell true crime, horror movie have I found myself in? The men that guard us are wearing masks. One is a devil, one is a ghost like face, and various other things and animals. I’ve lost track of the various masks I’ve seen coming and going from the room we are being held in. From what I gathered from the other girls being held captive is that we are supposed to take part of some hunt, but no one knows what type of hunt. I’ve read, listened, and watched enough fucking true crime to know that this so called hunt isn’t going to end well for us girls being held captive. No doubt we don’t make it out of this alive.

It was slow at first and then it came off with a faster tug, revealing his face… His complete face was shown. I was wrong when I said a vile, glaring expression would be under the mask because what I saw now was desperate grim— the face of death. I panicked and I believe everyone around me did the same as we took in the sight of him. The sight of him was scary and I battled with myself to hinder the expression of that fear on my face and guise. And now, just like I had thought earlier that it couldn’t get worse than this, I had the same thought in my head now… but then I was proven wrong instantly— by my mother.