Fear Street Masks Novels & Stories

She looked ridiculous! "What about you? What are you wearing? I saw a few horror masks inside." "Which one do you think fits me more?" I asked, holding a ghost face and a dali mask in both hands. "Hmm... wear the dali mask. You should also have brought a red suit," she giggled, pertaining to Money Heist's signature costume. I carefully wore the mask and made sure it's tight enough on my face so it wouldn't easily fell down while we're riding on extreme rides.

he asks in a whisper. The three straight cuts throb, reminding me I am not. I finally pull back, looking up. His face is still covered under the strange looking mask I couldn't decipher in the darkness of the ballroom. But now, in the dim basement lights, I see it and instantly a chill runs down my body. It's an eerie black skull, gleaming ominously with shadowed eye sockets and delicate silver-highlighted cracks. Sharp cheekbones, a jagged nasal cavity and a chillingly realistic grin of teeth enhance its lifelike, unsettling texture. Only the azure of his eyes pokes out. "Take off your mask," I say so, so softly that even I am surprised at my tone.

He stood at the end of the block, his figure shadowed by the dim streetlights, but the mask caught my eye immediately. It wasn't just any mask—it was hauntingly beautiful. A skull, bleached greyish white against black fabric. It covered his entire face, leaving only his eyes exposed. But those eyes... they were dark, watching everything with a predator's intensity, cutting through the night like he was born in it. It was sexy in a terrifying kind of way—like he knew exactly how much fear could excite someone. Ghost's body was built, all muscle, and the confidence in his walk made something inside me coil tight.

“Not all mates are as lucky to be adored and loved. I’ve never seen a couple as happy as that picture of your parents. I was possessed and subdued, never loved.” Darren sat silent for a long moment, staring back at me. He placed his hand over mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You know, those masks weren’t meant to hide a person. They were meant to reveal one’s inner self.” He pushed off the couch and walked to a cabinet in the corner of the room. He dug around in a bin at the bottom for a minute, then pulled out a mask like the ones decorating the wall downstairs in the pool room. It was a deep purple with black feathers coming from one side. “Ready to show that bastard your inner self? Th

Their eyes were filled with the terror of men trapped between death in front and death behind. A wine-red bodycon dress, the hem cut short to the upper thigh, over-the-knee boots with thin heels clicking a staccato rhythm on the marble. Her makeup was the kind of piled-on expense—eyebrows drawn without a single stray hair, lashes unnaturally dense, lips painted a dried rose color. But it was a mask. A cold, rigid, polished shell. Every brushstroke of foundation declared whose seed she came from, and also declared what that face was being used to cover up.

Strong hands caught both my wrists before I could pull away. "No — let me go!" I struggled immediately, kicking, twisting, pulling against his grip with everything I had. Nothing worked. Another masked man appeared and covered my mouth and said quietly, "Move," and that was when real fear arrived — not hospital fear, not uncertainty, but something deeper and more specific, the kind that knew exactly what it was afraid of.

Between the masks, the crowd, and the constant flicker, the place feels like a fever dream designed by a psychopath. At some point, I realize most of the guests are wearing masks now. The sight reminds me of the masquerade at my estate, except these aren't elegant ballroom masks. They're modeled after animals. I spot feathered masks shaped like birds, sleek cat faces, foxes, wolves, and a dozen others moving through the crowd beneath the flashing lights. The game itself isn't difficult. My senses do most of the work for me.

She weakly cried out as her body shook from the impacts, but then glanced away from the scene to the darkness of the room behind the lights. There was something there, watching her. She moaned around the flesh of the cock in her mouth but stayed focused on the ghost of an image beyond the light. There was another... and another... or... were they actually there? She felt herself being pulled on top of Gary and began to lose all sense of time. Another cock, she couldn't tell if it was Ben or Tony or someone else, slid slowly, tenderly into her ass as another fucked her face. The faces of the men fucking her morphed and shifted from masks to those of her brothers, to Kenny and his dad, to Bryc

The girl swallowed saliva and licked her dry lips, dreaming of returning to the suite and draining a jug of water. An icy wave of fear gripped her heart and painfully prickled in her chest. Nocté could hardly breathe, but Mortus firmly held her hand, leading her through the crowd. Their dark robes seemed to scare away the guests and they retreated, hiding their grimaces of disgust under masks, veils and makeup.

My fingers shook a little as I opened the file. Inside was a mask. A sexy black mask made of soft lace and shiny silk. It would cover the eyes and upper face but leave the mouth and jaw free. Delicate black lace patterns swirled around the eye holes like dark flowers. Small shiny crystals sparkled at the edges under the street light. Thin black ribbons waited to tie at the back of the head. It looked mysterious and dangerous. The kind of mask strippers wore when they wanted to hide their identity but show everything else.