Hatbox Ghost Mask Novels & Stories

I eased it open, my heart thudding hard in my chest. The sight before me stole the air from my lungs. My back hit the door with a dull thud."Holy..." The candlelight framed a grotesque assembly : the head of a golden-haired woman, her long tresses falling over the stark pale torso of the bald figure onto whose chest her severed neck was fixed. It took a beat to register. A mask. A full-face disguise made of human skin, complete with a wig. Even though Tang had warned me Belinda was wearing a mask--and Sebastian had said he'd rip it off--seeing it for real was something else entirely.

Elowen POV. The leather sofa in VIP Room Three still held the warmth of the last client. I could feel it through the thin crimson silk barely covering my body as I adjusted my position, making sure every angle was perfect. The jeweled mask sat secure against my face, catching the low amber light, hiding everything that mattered while showing everything that didn't. My red hair fell in waves over my bare shoulders. No brown wig or oversized cardigan swallowing my curves tonight. Tonight, I was Nyx, and Nyx didn't hide.

"Do you take this woman to be your wife, to stand by her through thick and thin?" "I do," the man said, his voice muffled by the mask. The guests whispered in awe. Howard Larson, the Larson family's big shot, was so in love with me that he would not let a bad cold stop our big day. He did not want to disappoint me. "Wait a second." The man's eyes darted around, and his forehead was dotted with sweat. I smiled and asked, "Howard, you're looking a bit pale. Too busy with the wedding to remember your medicine?"

Emberlyn: The box sat on the seat between us. Jaxon opened it without any ceremonious movement. I looked down at what was inside and forgot whatever I'd been about to say because I was staring at the most gorgeous piece of attire for hiding one's identity. The mask was black velvet, shaped close, with lace framing the eye cutouts in a pattern that was so intricate it took a few moments to recognize that it was floral. It was geometric at the edges and from there slowly dissolving into a design more organic toward the centre.

She frowned but didn’t interrupt him as he reached for the jacket he’d thrown aside earlier. He pulled out a small, velvet-covered box. He flipped it open, and for a second, the chaos around them faded. Inside was a stunning black masquerade mask—lace-like, delicately detailed, with a dusting of glitter that shimmered faintly in the light. The edges curled with soft filigree, elegant and dramatic, and the sheer black ribbons fell loose like silk. “It’s stunning,” she whispered, her voice caught in her throat. “When did you get this?”

he announced. Giovanni’s brow furrowed slightly in askance. “Who?” The man shook his head gently. “No name, boss. Identity’s masked,” Giovanni let the brick drop back into place, dusting his hands together. The sharp thud it made seemed louder than it should have been. He hated ghosts in his business. Someone hiding their face while knocking on his door was never a good sign. “Keep it on hold,” he said at last. “No product leaves until I know who I’m dealing with,” he ordered.

"Just briefly. And I need to find a mask to hide the bruise on my face." In the dressing room, she selected a more elaborate mask than before, one that would better conceal her bruise while still leaving her mouth and jawline exposed. The emerald and gold creation fastened securely, covering from her hairline to the middle of her cheekbones. It wouldn't hide everything, but combined with the dim lighting, it might be enough to avoid immediate questions.

The night came faster than I expected. I stood in front of the mirror longer than necessary, adjusting the mask for the third time. I chose something simple. A black fitted dress that stopped just above my knees. Long sleeves. Nothing dramatic. Over it, a dark hooded cape that blended easily in low light. The mask was matte black, smooth, covering the upper half of my face. It hid my brows, my cheekbones, the parts people usually recognized first. My lips were the only visible thing.