The Prisoner In The Mask Novels & Stories

He asked. "Yes yes sir." The recieved said with a shivering voice. "You know who is speaking right?" He asked again and the head of department replied with an overly excited and shivering yes. "Good, I need you to do something for me." He said and relayed a set of instructions to him before hanging up. "Now that's how you treat your wife well." He said as he unties the masquerade mask and placed it on the cabinet in the kitchen. As he did the dishes, Edward hummed to the song his favourite song and did a little saying around.

"Do you take this woman to be your wife, to stand by her through thick and thin?" "I do," the man said, his voice muffled by the mask. The guests whispered in awe. Howard Larson, the Larson family's big shot, was so in love with me that he would not let a bad cold stop our big day. He did not want to disappoint me. "Wait a second." The man's eyes darted around, and his forehead was dotted with sweat. I smiled and asked, "Howard, you're looking a bit pale. Too busy with the wedding to remember your medicine?"

—Valerie Wills— I was smiling, but my eyes were on fire as I stared at the mirror and watched how I removed the mask I was wearing. I was a prisoner of my husband, mistreated and not showered with even the slightest bit of love. My death at his hands is what made me free—why I'm here and living behind this mask. A few years have passed since I was the imprisoned and battered wife of Eldifonso, but now that I am free from his devil hands, I will not let him take the chance to breathe loosely.

Cinnia could not breathe. She waved her arms in the suffocating darkness, fighting to get rid of the weight around her neck but with every movement she made, the pressure on her neck increased. The darkness faded and a masked face materialized above her. She was back in that prison and he, her captor, was straddling her legs, restricting any effort she made to kick. Her eyes bulged and she frantically began to claw at his forearms, drawing blood with each deep scratch but it seemed not to phase him.

Fatima tried asking him again and he stayed silent. “I know what happened, aren’t you curious, darling?” “Don’t listen to her,” Christopher whispered. “Why? You don’t want her to know the truth? Afraid to go to prison?” she keeps provoking him. “If I’m going to prison, I’m taking you with me,” he said and she smiled. “No, thanks. I like being free,” she said and they were interrupted when another woman in a mask entered the room and pulled her. “Let’s go, the police is here!”

It was a prison, but a curated one. David undressed her slowly, as if undressing devotion. His hands didn’t tremble, but his eyes did. As he secured her wrists to the wrought iron bedposts with leather cuffs, he inhaled deeply—like her skin was the last thing tethering him to sanity. Three forged letters sat waiting on his desk. One for Marlene. One for Talia. One addressed to him, crafted like a journal entry. All carefully worded, all lies. All that remained was her handwriting to make the fantasy believable.

"You expect us to believe that?" "I know what I saw."My fingers tightened around my sleeve.Saw what?The masked man moved closer."You should have kept your mouth shut."The prisoner looked around.For the first time, I saw something in his expression that frightened me more than the masks.He wasn't surprised.He knew what was coming."No," he whispered.The word barely reached me.But I heard it.And suddenly I wasn't watching strangers anymore.

“Come on… Please…” But the damn rope was like a boa constrictor, way too tied around her wrists. “It won’t work, Nicola…” a male voice said. She felt pure ice going up and down her spine. “I’ve made sure you can’t escape.” How come she was held prisoner? Who was he? Nicola glanced up at the man. He looked like a demon from hell, all dressed up in black from the ski mask he had on his head to the clothes he wore. “How… how do you know my name?”

He alerted his team and assured me that everything was fine there. I walked towards the door but stopped immediately when something caught my eyes. Some black fabric was hanging behind the frame. Jacob's a minimalist when it comes to his home decorations. I turned and walked to the frame hanging on the wall. I carefully removed it. "Bloody hell." I murmured as I saw Mamba's mask. I gulped. Jacob saw it. He has the mask all along and he never mentioned or asked anything about it. I removed the mask on the hook and hid it in my jacket's secret pocket.

He was a man possessed, unrecognizable. By the time the rest of the prisoners had stepped out of the prison, Garvin had laid waste the entire cavalry by himself. His garments were soaked with blood dripping off them. He wiped a streak of blood that had splattered across his face flapping his hands to shake the residue off. He turned back and he was met with dreadful looks. The rest of the captives examined the carnage in disbelief, unable to comprehend. They would have never thought Garvin was a man capable of such wretched actions. If only they knew the monster hiding behind that mask.