روايات وقصص ضمن When His Perfect Mask Shattered, I Awoke

The room was made up of sound proof and that's why it was hard for them to hear me scream. I remained standing at the same spot. Confused. Lost. Holding the black mask in my hand as many thoughts raced in my mind. I looked at the mask, then slowly raised my head to look at the window which was wide open, the glasses shattered. The perfect reflection of how broken I was feeling at the moment. How? I couldn't help but question myself.

“It’s just like last time.” I paused, my gaze shifting back to him. “I still can’t beat you in anything, no matter what I do.” I said nothing. I simply watched him. He leaned forward slightly, his elbow resting on the table as he held the glass loosely in his hand, his fingers tightening around it as if it was the only thing grounding him in that moment, and for once, there was no mask on his face, only resentment. “If you were someone who wasn’t perfect at everything,” he went on, “then maybe I could understand why you do whatever you want and act like no one else matters. But no, you just have to be perfect at everything and still act the way you do.”

Slowly, almost lazily, he tugs at the edge of the mask, lifting it just enough to make me aware of the loss of my last defense. "No more games, Kitten," he whispers. "Let's see who you really are." With a single, decisive motion, he tears the mask from my face, letting it fall to the floor, my identity exposed in the dim light of the warehouse. The chilly air hits my skin, stark and unforgiving.

I wanted to rip the mask off, to let him see the monster and the woman, and to lose myself in the heat of his embrace. But as his fingers moved toward the silk ribbons at the back of my head, a cold splash of reality hit me. I am a murderer, I reminded myself. I am an impostor in a dead girl's palace. He is a man of the South, a man of secrets. If I let him see me—truly see me—I would lose the only armor I had left. The power of my eyes was my greatest weapon, but my mask was my greatest shield. Just as his fingers brushed the knot of the ribbon, I grabbed his wrist. My grip was unnaturally strong, fueled by the desperation of a cornered animal.

“We thought-“ “And when my mask fell off when I was cursed; they saw how weak I was, how useless I was. How pretentious I was, no one ever stayed on my side, even asked my side. You only love me when I’m perfect, you only love me when I was at my best but could never accept me at my worst. You find me hideous, don’t you?” “No, why would-“ “DON’T LIE TO ME!” “I’m sorry,” his tears pulled mine too. Once I saw it streaming down his cheek, I felt mine too. “I failed to protect you.”

“I don’t have time for this.” I stepped in his way again. “Then make time. You don’t get to act like I never meant anything to you. Talk to me!” That was when his mask broke. “Do you think I don’t miss you?” he hissed. His eyes were filled with so much emotions “Do you think I don’t wake up every damn day remembering how you looked when you were unconscious? How I sat beside you, hoping you'd live?” My breath caught. He was shaking. Not visibly. But I felt it. The tension. The heartbreak. The war behind his carefully composed face.

My eyelids drooped, and I surrendered to the pull of sleep. For once, I dreamed of warmth. Of laughter. Of Alaric’s arms around me, the faint press of his lips against mine— that feeling of being wanted, cherished. It was a beautiful dream, soft and weightless. I smiled in my sleep, certain of it. Until the world shattered. I felt a sudden, brutal pressure crush my throat. My eyes flew open to darkness, confusion slamming into panic in a heartbeat. There was a figure above me that seemed like a man, going by build alone. His face was hidden behind a mask, his gloved hands locked tight around my neck in an attempt to delete me.

Because even if everything else was a lie, even if this whole thing was a manipulation, that part was real. I didn't regret it. I should have. But I didn't. He smiled. Small. Sad. Like he could see right through me. "Get some rest. You look exhausted." Then he was gone. The door clicked shut behind him. I sat there on the bed. Listened to his footsteps fade down the hallway. Heard the front door open and close. Only then did I let myself breathe. Only then did I let the mask slip. My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking.

I’m sorry. I thought, feeling the recoil of the crowbar after the first impact. As Mirabella screamed bloody murder, and Amber quietly sobbing in the corner, I knew the truth: Every time I wore this mask, I lost another piece of myself, replacing it with him. And one day, there might be nothing left.

Awake now, amid the wreckage and scattered feathers, I have at least reclaimed my dignity and freedom. I inhale deeply and reach for the intercom. "Let all departments know, we're meeting in five minutes in the conference room for the new project launch." The past was behind me, and the future seemed bright. No one could easily sway my world anymore.