Pulp Fiction Gimp Mask Novels & Stories

This wedding's just a game to cheer me up. I quickly replied. [Oh yeah? Bet one call from me, and he'll ditch you to beg for my forgiveness.] The phone went silent. Hook, line, and sinker. I pocketed the phone and faced the quiet groom. He was fidgeting. "I... I..." I gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Elias, relax." He sighed in relief. "You knew all along." After a quiet moment, he looked like he had made a big decision and took a deep breath.

While Marcus and Pamela continued discussing the legal paperwork, I returned my attention to the surveillance footage I'd managed to save. I replayed the parking garage recording frame by frame. The black van. The driver. The man in the hoodie. Then... I paused the video. "Wait." Marcus immediately leaned closer. "What?" I zoomed in on the masked man standing beside the van. His face was hidden. But not completely. The mask itself caught my attention. It wasn't an ordinary disguise. Dark wood. Hand-painted details. Long curved horns. Traditional craftsmanship. I enlarged the image again. Then again.

I opened the footage. It was a clip from the club. Not the full performance. Three to five seconds cuts joined together. Then there it was. The turn, the mask coming forward, my face in full stage lighting for the seconds before my hand came up. Someone had added a frame-by-frame slow motion to the middle section that made the fall of the mask slower and more deliberate looking than it had felt in real time. Then there was a side by side. The clip on the left. A photograph from the Crestwood college athletics page on the right. The kind of thing that took three minutes to make in a basic editing app and ten seconds to share.

But then again, I kept wondering while deleting my first impression of her. Her one-of-a-kind beauty even outshined when her face flushed red. I thought she would be using a mask as well. In that way, we could not see each other's faces. I see her now. And she wasn't ugly to my eyes. "Just keep your mask on, please." She requested, lifting the white blanket to her not-so-gifted breast. Well. I would not give a damn about whether her breasts were bulging or not. Several celebrities and models were not that gifted. What mattered to me was the ten thousand dollar payment.

Burying her face on his chest, she cried silently, feeling sick of herself, aware that the man was looking at her. “But his heart is still beating. He’s fighting. He wants to survive.” The masked man raised his hand, its flesh appeared to have some kind of glitch, as it disappeared every second or two. From his open palm, a flower-shaped smoke floated, filming a complete family, laughing together, playing together.

She breathed heavily as they both sweat heavily. Keisha grabbed his mask and pulled it out of his face, making him let go of the gun. He grabbed her hand and pulled it to make the mask cover his face. Her brows raised, realizing she can take this to her advantage. She leaned forward and bit his hand. "Fuck!" he screamed before his grip loosened on her hand but she let go of his mask.