When his mask cracks Novels & Stories

I held his gaze across the broken porcelain. "I'd rather have nothing than be your prisoner." Something moved in his face, a hairline fracture in the mask, there and gone so quickly I might have imagined it. Then he straightened, took out his phone, looked at the screen with the controlled irritation of a man whose evening has been interrupted by something that requires immediate attention.

His adams apple bobbed up and down from his swallowing. Bumagsak ang tingin ko sa paa nang tinubuan ako ng hiya at pinaglaruan na lang ang mga bato roon. "I... Uhm." He cleared his throat. "Your panties. It was a rabbit design but I can't see the color clearly."

my heart skipped a bit when I heard that, my husband started running like Sonic the Hedgehog but we accidentally bumped into a man taking a piss "Chef, what are you doing with these people, the masked man said you betrayed him and escaped with these inmates," he said I couldn't see him well because everywhere is pitch black and the moon's light isn't doing much good for us "it's not what you think, but I can't let you leave here alive," Mika said

One last time. “My love,” I whispered, my voice cracking in the hollow space. I moved toward the casket. The flickering candles cast a deceptive golden glow over his features, mocking me with a shine of life that wasn't there. He looked like he was merely sleeping, but the stillness was too absolute. I reached out, picking up his hand and threading my fingers through his. His skin was like marble and utterly devoid of the heat that used to ground me. That was the moment the mask finally shattered.

It shattered into countless pieces that fell like glass shards to the ground. Camela collapsed to her knees, struggling for breath, with blood trailing from her lips where the shards had cut her deeply. Vincent knelt beside her, holding onto her tightly. “You did it. You fought against it,” he exclaimed. But the letter in his hand continued to glow, the words began reshaping again: “Every mask broken must be replaced. Choose which one to wear…or another will choose for you.” Camela’s eyes grew wide with fear while she muttered, “No…no more masks…”

The man in the mask. Because something was waiting for me there— And this time, I wasn’t running. This time, I needed answers.

Maybe he thought she was crazy because she was talking to someone and she was still wearing a mask. "Ma'am, are you all right?" He asked her when he noticed her. "Ah, yes. I'm fine. I'm sorry because I'm from the party so I haven't removed my mask yet," she replied. "Ah, is that so? Your mask is beautiful. It fits you." "I'll wash it later Manong," she said. "Oh, don't worry, ma'am, it's beautiful," he praised her. "Wow? Thank you!" "Where are you going, ma'am?"

For making me believe he wanted more, only to bury himself back under that damn mask. I wanted to tear it off his face and scream until he saw me. Until he remembered who he was when no one else was watching. Honestly, all I could do was just stand there, totally mute, choking on the words that stubbornly stuck in my throat. And then he glanced at my direction. Just for a second. Our eyes locked. I swear I saw it. The flicker. The crack in the mask. The plea, the desperation he couldn’t say out loud. Help me.

A chuckle rumbled through his chest, “yet you couldn’t see through your step-mother’s facade for sixteen years until your eyes were opened when you heard her talk to Fin in this academy.” “Because some people don’t wear masks, they solder it with their soul. A mask so thick, it becomes their skin.” I leaned forward, my hands on the table as I lowered my voice to hold the gravity. “And such people… cannot be unmasked without tearing off their skin, behind which they are nothing but a mess of blood, muscles and bones.” My past replayed in my mind when I said those words. I blinked back my tears and took another sip of my tea.

The normally impenetrable mask shattered like glass under the onslaught of my powerful blow, revealing nothing beneath - faceless. He crumbled to his knees, an ethereal apparition, his countenance veiled in every darkness. As he fell limp to the floor, I felt a fleeting sensation of victory, realizing the key to our liberation – the masks. "It's the mask." I breathed. "Their weakness is in their mask." then I strode toward the second man in front of Simon. With renewed vigor, my friends and I lashed at the remaining assailants, aiming for their cursed masks. Each strike of my claws shattered them into oblivion, releasing the men beneath from their silent torment.