Miguel O'hara Mask Novels & Stories

Of course. Magda gestured toward the photography room, and Malik followed quietly. When they reached the room, she stood before him, camera in hand, ready to take pictures. Malik raised his hand and removed his mask, revealing his true face. Magda's expression froze in horror, her voice trembling: Magda: Malik? Malik: Yes. Magda: What do you want? I don't think you're here to take pictures... I've made masks for you before, and believe me, I never reported you to the police.

he heard her clearly but his brain could only accept a piece of possible information deemed by him. “He was your father?” he gulped before the words choked him harder than they already did. “Doesn’t matter now, he killed my Mama, so he must pay,” she said coldly, rising from the floor. Andre followed soon. “Good, then let us make him pay,” he said, firmly as his thoughts to expose the masquerade hiding in the mask of the honourable detective. ****

"Wait—I might have something that can make it a whole lot easier." "How?" "A spell. To change your shape and your scent. Not much, just enough to mess with their scans." I lifted an eyebrow. "A spell? Who casts one on me?" He was grinning. "Remember Old Magda?" "Oh no. Not her. The woman's insane." "She is not insane. She is a morals-unquestioning mystic herbalist," he told me. "She's insane," I told him. "Talented," he said . "Come on, before you wake up to your senses."

I snap back, just as the door swings fully open. The man in front steps inside, holding a cattle prod, its metal tip gleaming ominously. He moves just enough to allow another man to enter, who silently sets a jug of water down on the rickety table before turning to leave. “Wait!” I shout, my voice sharp and urgent. The men pause, glancing back. “We will negotiate. What do you want?” I ask, trying to keep my tone calm despite the tension in the air. The man at the front turns his masked face toward me. His expression is hidden, but his posture radiates control. “We want nothing,” he says, his voice distorted, processed through some kind of modulator. It’s deliberate—a calculated move to ensur

I’m not going to hurt you. His words were bizarre, but I had no time to think them over. No matter what he said, I wasn’t about to trust him. Still, I nodded in agreement, signaling that I would comply. Once he seemed convinced I wouldn’t resist, he relaxed a little and guided me toward the bedroom. He must have known I was pregnant because he kept his hand protectively near my stomach, careful not to harm me. As we moved, the dim light of the moon filtered through the window, and I finally got a clearer look at him. He wore a black mask that covered his entire face, leaving only his eyes visible. In the darkness, I couldn’t tell who he was at all.

She replied and, like a mother, she held my hand and pulled me to the corner where a man sells vagina masks. “Need pretty masks for the party, I got the best”. The man was American, I could tell that from his accent. “Give us two”. Laura said. The man selected two masks from the pile of masks on his table. “Have this”. He handed the masks to Laura. “Three cents”. Laura took the masks from him and dropped a dollar bill on the man’s desk. “Here is three cents and a tip”. She turned to me and handed one of the masks to me. “Have your mask, Betty”.

Diana exclaimed. "Wow, Madam, you actually recognized me under all this disguise?!" Mitbahl said, his face a picture of astonishment as he touched the mask covering his face. Diana looked him up and down. "Why have you transformed yourself like this?" Mitbahl was wearing a cap and had his entire face concealed behind a mask, making him look like a celebrity in disguise. "Oh, Madam, you know, it's better for the secret guard not to be too conspicuous. Low profile, you know."

Michael felt a chill down his spine as he looked at the masked contestant and said, "..." Damn, Leandro liked masks?

It was the same with his partner, Maggie. “Well, yes and no. I wasn’t surprised with the first change. We all knew that Orange Monk wouldn’t be available due to the severity of his injuries. And we thought it was going to be difficult to replace him. But in the end they did. From what we gather, the White Mask – as we will refer to him since he asked for his identity to remain secret – is Orange Monk’s replacement. As for whether he would be able to fill the large shoes Orange Monk left behind, we will have to wait and see. Luckily we wouldn’t wait too long since he would have to show his worth today.”

Pockmark Mask now. ***