The Prisoner In The Mask นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Just the silent agreement of a mask party—one night of raw release with no traces left behind. He waited a minute inside the bathroom, adjusting his crimson mask and smoothing down his shirt. The ornate mask had stayed firmly in place the entire time, even during the most intense moments. It had hidden his face completely while he was on his knees and later bent over, moaning against the cold tiles. That anonymity had made everything sharper, more dangerous. He washed his hands at the sink, splashed water on his face, and stared at his masked reflection for a moment. A respectable, composed man by day, reduced to a desperate, moaning bottom in a public stall by night. The contrast sent one f

Up close, he was older than the first, with the eyes of a man who’d learned to be mediocre and lived anyway. “You,” Elky said. “Same voice?” The man nodded. “Yeah. Spoke on the phone. Wore black mask on site. No names spilled. Good payday to look forward. But not…not worth all this.” “You’ll get a refund,” I said. “In stitches.” He managed a humorless chuckle, then grimaced when his shoulder chose to veto comedy. Elky signaled. Two of our guys lifted each prisoner as if they were a poorly made chairs—one arm, one collar, none of the tenderness books promise. Zip-ties bit. The younger one yelped and remembered pride just in time to smother it.

My brain could barely function when I was burning painfully and I couldn't figure out what was going on. At this time, the door of sliver prison was opened. A masked guard walked in with pushing a dining cart. Ancient lines covered the his mask. I had heard this kind of mask from the elderly of the Red Pack, they said, the guard wore this type of mask would be the most secretive and powerful men of sacrifice. "Princess Hannah, it's time for dinner, please have all this food." That's what I heard from that guard. Wait a second! This voice!

She turned around to face the man whose face was covered and she noticed those pairs of grey eyes. "You!" She exclaimed as the man pulled out a handcuff from his pocket before placing it on her hands. Hearing them click, her eyes widened as she stared at them. "No, you can't do this to me. I want to go home, I am not your prisoner" she screamed at the masked man, who smiled at her screams. "You are wrong there Lia, you are my slave" He said as he grinned behind his mask.

“Wake up in there!” After banging lightly against the wooden gate of the cage, the figure inside jolted awake. It took him a while to adjust to his dark surroundings, but it was obvious that somebody was standing just outside his lonely cell. “Who-” the prisoner stammered weakly. “Who are you? What do you want?” Just then, the mysterious stranger reached up and removed her black mask. It was too dark inside the tunnel for the man in the cage to make out any of her features.

“I can protect him from you.” The masked man’s head shifts, just a little. “I’m not the one he should fear.” Ezra doesn’t flinch. “Take one more step toward him and I’ll rip that mask off your face.” A strange silence follows. Then the masked man whispers: “If you do… he’ll see the truth.” Ezra lunges. The masked man moves faster, retreating toward the front door, footsteps silent. The door opens by itself, wind rushing in. He steps backward into the darkness outside.

He smiles and replies, “Just call me Greg, and please do keep it a secret. ” He nods and says to him, “I understand, it seems you are a secret yourself. Why all the secrecy? You have not committed any crimes have you?” He doesn’t speak rather he nods and walks towards the room, this time, he doesn’t stop him. After the long sentences, he allows him to enter the room, he walks toward her slowly and he looks down at the sleeping beauty. He is about to remove his mask but he sees her stir in her sleep so he stops and walks closer to her. She opens her eyes and stares right at him, he looks down at her and says to her,

It was elegant and terrifying. We approached a woman seated behind a sleek glass desk. Her face was expressionless. When she saw Mr. Everhart, she stood quickly and bowed, deeply, reverently, before sliding something across the counter: a mask. Without hesitation, Mr. Everhart took it. The mask was white porcelain, etched with subtle obsidian lines. He placed it over his face and pinned a silver tag to his lapel. The name engraved on it was, Alpha. He turned to me “You won’t be needing this yet,” he said quietly, though his eyes behind the mask were unreadable.

A blaring alarm wailed. Not any moment longer, the door in my back opened. Electricity traveled through my body and I convulsed down the floor making me release the guy. Kicks were given to me. I crumpled in a circle, protecting my face. Then, everything stopped; I was raised to my feet by a new guy, also wearing the same mask. "Behave or your time will run faster." Defiance coursing in my blood, I tried to use my leg only to be restrained. A fist connected in my stomach. "Do not die before you could even fight. It will be no fun." The guy who has me in his grip whispered in my ears. He grabbed my wrist and connected some kind of a chip to it. The eleven hours before was magically cut into h

We move to the tables to make our hair and faces match our outfits. Izzy pulls my mask from her drawer, the one rule I always had. My face had to be covered. My family could not find out I was here and they dealt plenty with sleazy men. The masks leaves my mouth open, but covers the top half of my face. "You girls ready?" Thomas asks from the door when he peeks in. "Holy fuck. I don't think I'm ready. You two are delicious."