Muse Masks 소설 & 이야기

All three of them slipped on carnival like face masks, the very colorful ones with even more colorful feathers at the end. “What is going on?” I ask, this time looking from person to person. “Want to find out?” Abed asks from behind the mask, he blinked at me through the eye hole, I stared at him, even with the mask, he was as beautiful as they came. I swallow, and nod. Abed stretched out his hand, in it was another mask, staring at it for a second longer, I take it, turning it over in my hands, I notice it is not the disposable type, and it had the word SUNFLOWER engraved on it.

Today is really an exhausting day, I want to sleep so bad right now, but I have to prepare all of the necessary stuff that we'd be using in the mission. I took my blazer off and placed it on the couch, and went upstairs to my room. I took some of my clothes and the gadgets that I'll need. I took my medical kits and placed them in a small bag. I took my other gadgets, such as an extra laptop, a smartphone with a secured line, an earpiece, and my handguns and flash grenades. We might not need it since we're going undercover at school, but it can still be risky. In a mission like this, anything can go wrong at any time, which is why we can never trust others and sometimes not even ourselves.

In the next instant, the suite's electronic lock clicked open. I could not help but smirk, a sly grin spreading across my face.

What hell am I supposed to do now? He smiled, leaning against the wall. "Maybe the goddess likes you better this way." "Don't play games with me, Liam. Not today." He flung both arms out in front of him. "Okay, okay. Okay. Relax. Let me think." He paced back and forth across his messy cabin, muttering to himself. "We need something quick… straightforward. Maybe—" "Maybe what?" I prompted. "Maybe we cloak you." "Disguise?" I asked.

Or was it the eerie way he moved—fluid, confident, yet silent, like a phantom materializing out of the dim glow of the chandeliers? Now that he stood close enough, Evelyn could study the details of his mask. It was an intricate piece, covering his entire face, adorned with black and gold gemstones that glinted under the light. But it was the mouthpiece that truly sent a chill down her spine—carved with sharp, exaggerated teeth, as though mocking the very notion of civility.

Though each guard had their own room, they had to move as a unit when anything happened. Looking at his face, Selina muttered: "If something happens, will you have time to put on makeup?" Nestor gave her a strange smile, reaching behind his left hip and pulling out a flesh-colored mask. It was a human skin mask. The mask's texture was incredibly realistic, down to visible pores and even a few blackheads on the nose. Selina's eyes widened in disbelief: "This is..."

I forced myself to look away, to not scan their faces for Marjorie’s. Something twisted in my gut when two stylists approached me. They were wearing masks, all of them were. These weren’t ordinary masks made from plastic or fabric, rather some kind of stone with veins of pale marble and shimmering gold. Up close, they were both beautiful and intimidating. Apart from the eyes staring out at me, I could have believed they were statues brought to life by magic. They didn’t speak or touch me as they led me into the dressing room and through another set of doors. I tried and failed not to glance over at the other doe’s, each one barefoot and wearing a plain white robe.

The room smelled like paper and light. White walls. Clean wood floors. No velvet. No shadows. Just voices. Dozens of them. The exhibit wasn’t permanent. It moved from city to city, curated by a team of journalists and survivors who had once worn masks for different reasons. Now, they wore none. Isolde stood near the far wall, beside a display case containing one item: A single black velvet mask, trimmed in silver, with a red teardrop beneath one eye.

A staff member approached carrying a tray. Masks. I blinked. Masquerade masks. So that was the theme. Interesting. Mine was black with silver detailing. Camille’s was silver with crystal accents. They matched our dresses perfectly. The men received theirs as well. The moment I secured the mask into place, excitement stirred unexpectedly inside me. Maybe this wouldn’t be so terrible after all. The massive doors opened. Music spilled outward. Golden lights illuminated the entrance hall. Guests moved elegantly across polished floors. Laughter echoed through the air.

CHAPTER ELEVEN “Amara, you forgot about this.” Amethyst handed me a mask. The mask would only cover half of the wearer’s face, including the forehead and the area surrounding the eyes. It was a masquerade mask. It was shaped like those butterfly wings. It was crafted from silver, with crystal beads designed at its corners and a black sun with four rays at the upper center. It has a lace at both ends. “Who owns it?” Amethyst asked curiously.