The Man Behind The Mask Book Novels & Stories

I do not want to lose my only family. Kinuha ni Nanay ang pot holder na nakalapag sa isang mesa bago buksan ang bagong lutong pagkain. The smoke from the newly stewed pork mounted and spreading on to the high ceiling. Iwinasiwas ko ang kamay para alisin ang usok na tumatakip sa paningin. Nanay was wearing a mask to keep herself from being exposed in too much smoke.

I wasn’t looking for anything specific; I was just casually going through them one by one. But then, I froze. There was one photo that immediately caught my eye—a man in a hoodie. He was just off to the side, barely noticeable at first glance. But I knew, without a doubt, it was him... the man in the mask. Right after the event ended earlier, after he had his book signed, he suddenly disappeared. I tried to look for him discreetly inside the coliseum, but he was nowhere to be found. I assumed he had left right away. But now, here he was—captured in a photo, standing far from the crowd.

A strategic asset to secure my future. I was disgusting. Jason was never an asset. He was a person. A scared, brave, determined person who was fighting just to exist in a world that wanted to own him. And I tried to own him too. I manipulated him. Befriended him with ulterior motives. Took him to my father like he was a gift to be presented. The memory makes me sick. I think about the night I rescued him from the dungeon. How he looked at me when I removed my mask. The confusion and hope and fear in his eyes.

"Although the money is decent, this is a masquerade performance. The clients prefer to be anonymous. I agreed right away without thinking. Friday night arrived fast, and before I knew it I was standing backstage at Eclipse, clad in a revealing costume and a black mask half my face. As I watched for my signal, my heart hammered in my chest. Soft, sensual lighting enveloped the stage as I left, the eyes of the patrons tracking every action. Trying to forget where I was and why I was doing this, I turned my attention to the music. The performance passed in a haze, my head disconnected from my body.

"Lost something?" I spun around. Standing behind me was a man. A real, actual man and not the elderly, pot-bellied variety I'd expected to encounter. No, this was the kind of man from my sketches. The kind I'd only imagined existed. This was good. I knew it was, and yet, I kept wishing that the carriage would make a surprise appearance. A silver mask covered the upper half of the stranger’s face, but I could see enough. A strong jaw. Lips that curved with amusement. Black hair that fell across his forehead in a way that made me want to brush it back, which was insane because I didn't know him.

He collapsed on the sand, convulsing, the stench of urine carried far on the wind. The party crowd that had gathered to watch earlier stood rigidly, not daring to breathe. They finally understood something. The man they had laughed at as a kept husband was the head of the Thornes, someone they weren't even qualified to approach! I held Luke close and spoke gently. "Luke, don't be scared. I'm here. No one will ever bully you again. I promise." Luke clung to my neck and nodded hard, letting out a small, muffled sound.

The folder followed with a thud onto the seat beside him. From the mirror, Josiah saw him lean back, eyes closed, fingertips pressing into his temples. The air between them grew thick. Even Alexander Gracias, it seemed, couldn’t control everything.

He walked out. I sat there alone. Quiet. Akayda was probably terrified right now sitting there in her office. And I couldn’t do anything. I couldn't even reassure her. Because she hadn’t told me anything. Even after I found the mask. The Mask. I had kept it. The silver mask. It was on my shelf at home. I couldn't throw it out. My jaw tightened. I pulled my phone again and opened the article. Looking at the picture of Jade— It wasn't too clear.

They looked completely lost in each other, as if the rest of the world did not exist. The pain hit me so hard I couldn’t breathe. I turned quickly, desperate to get away before they noticed me. My vision blurred with tears as I hurried down the hallway. I collided straight into a tall, solid chest. Strong hands caught my arms to steady me. “Careful,” a deep voice said. I looked up. The man was wearing a simple but elegant black mask that covered the upper half of his face. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and carried himself with natural confidence. Even without seeing his full face, something about him felt dangerously magnetic.

Its face was covered by a featureless white mask. No eyes. No mouth. Only one sentence written across the mask in black ink. STORY DENIED. The room fell completely silent. The masked figure slowly raised one hand. Every blank page inside the First Study ignited with pale blue fire. The White Book screamed. Not with words. With every forgotten story it had ever protected. The masked figure finally spoke. Its voice sounded like a library closing forever. "Return the Final Reader..." "...or every unwritten world will be erased." The boy quietly stepped in front of Adrian.