Mask the PainA Story by Felicity Wyrd A man brings his niece a spooky mask from the store he runs. Need I say more? 4:04am - The kitchen The light in the room was sparse, only shining in through a gap in the curtains. Half of a meal rested on the counter, the over half burnt in the now lifeless oven. Lying on the floor, in a pool of blood, were three bodies. Christopher Little, his wife Grace, and his cousin Aaron, had died 8 hours earlier. Standing over their bodies, completely motionless, was Laura Little, daughter of Christopher & Grace. After 8 years of never staying still, even in her sleep, Laura had not moved for 8 hours. Her Sunday dress remained an untarnished white, while her formerly yellow socks were stained red by the scarlet puddle in which she stood. The blood on the floor had not dried in the 8 hours it had been flowing, but now Laura’s family had no blood left to bleed. From the darkness shone an uneasy grin and blank, yet piercing eyes visible in the gloom, contrasted against the jet black of Laura’s face.
Laura’s new face.
6:30am - The Previous Day Aaron Little had moved to Sinner’s End to stay with his cousin 8 months ago, after his wife Sara died under mysterious circumstances, in hopes that he might escape the accusations of his in-laws, and clear his head. The small village didn’t offer much to do, so Aaron worked at Lucky Eights, the village shop. Every morning he’d get up at 06:30, prepare himself for the day, and give his niece a goodbye hug before departing for the shop at 07:30. This comfortable routine helped Aaron deal with the pain. He had good days and bad days, days when he was relatively fine and days of soul-crushing anguish that made him want to curl into a ball and cry until there were no tears left. But he didn’t. Every day Aaron went about his routine with the same crooked smile on his face, his brow raised and his eyes wide open, giving him a somewhat chimp-like expression. He had never smiled like that when Sara was alive. Chris & Grace never looked past the surface - they were busy people, and Aaron couldn’t blame them for that. But Laura could tell; somehow little Laura Little could tell the good days from the bad days, and while she never said anything about it, she always gave her uncle an extra-big hug on the bad days. As Aaron awoke on what he didn’t realise would be the last day of his life, he thought about Sara, how she could tell the good days from the bad days too. He thought about Chris & Grace, who had taken him into their home in this hard time. And Aaron Little thought about Laura, his little niece who adored him, and made sure to give extra-big hugs when she sensed it was a bad day. I may feel like crap, Aaron thought to himself, but life isn’t all that bad right now. Aaron Little was a troubled man. His battle with depression had been going ever since the 8-year-old Betty Little had told her parents that he’d rather be called Aaron, to their confusion & dismay. Only Sara’s support had made it manageable. But for all his troubles, Aaron Little had, at the very least, ended on a good day.
5:16pm - Lucky Eights Chris had left at half past three to pick up Laura from school, while Aaron remained at the counter until closing up at five. As per usual, Aaron went around every room in the little shop (a number less than 5) checking & double-checking that everything was put away properly, that all the lights were off, that all the doors were locked. He did this in part because it was his job, and in part because it gave him time to think, which was why he always insisted Chris went home first. Today Aaron was completing his inspection when he happened to spot a strange jet black mask in the storeroom. The mask grinned uneasily, and Aaron couldn’t help but feel like those blank, painted eyes were watching him. Staring back at the mask, he figured it might be just the right size for a child’s face.
8:00pm - The Kitchen “Laura, take off that silly mask now. It’s time for tea.” Laura had been wearing the mask for two consecutive hours now. “Listen to your mother, sweetie. I know it’s from Uncle Aaron, but you can’t wear it while you eat.” Shockingly, Laura was silent. Usually, she always had something to say - a little too much to say, sometimes. The silence wasn’t just uncharacteristic - it outright disturbed her family. Something about the silence - this silence, seemed to suck the life out of the room. “Laura?” A concerned Aaron asked, “Are you okay?” Again, silence. “Sweetie, what’s wrong? You can tell me & mummy what’s bothering you.” Laura once more said nothing, instead grabbing a knife from the counter. Except nobody saw her grab it - one moment it lay on the counter, the next it rested in Laura’s hand. She had not moved the entire time. “Laura Penelope Little, you put that knife down right this instant! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?” Grace’s voice shook as she spoke. Laura remained still, silent. A low, incoherent noise broke the silence. Though it sounded like a distant sound, it was clear to everyone in the room that it came from Laura.
At precisely 8:08pm, Aaron, Christopher, and Grace’s lives ended. Aaron never had to wear that chimp-like false smile again.
4:08am - The Mind of Laura Little What happened? Where’s daddy? Mummy? Uncle Aaron? I’m scared. I can’t see. I can’t breathe. There’s something on my face. It’s cold. And wet. There’s something in my hand, smooth, metal-y… A knife? What? Why is there a knife in my hand? She’s awake. Good. Now she can see what she’s done. What’s that? I can see! I can’t see a lot. It’s really dark in here. I can see mummy and daddy and Uncle Aaron! What are they doing on the floor? Are they sleeping? “Mummy? Daddy? Uncle Aaron?” Why are they not waking up? “What’s going on? Wake up!” Is this a game? Are they going to jump up and surprise me? Are they playing dead? Is it because they’re afraid because I’m wearing this scary… Mask! That’s what’s on my face! “It’s okay! It’s just me! Look!” It’s not coming off. WHY IS IT NOT COMING OFF?! “Get... Off! ME!” It won’t budge. I don’t know what’s happening. I’m scared. Yes. Feel the fear. Succumb to the fear. Let the fear take over. Mummy and daddy and Uncle Aaron aren’t waking up. And why are they wet? Wait… “AAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” It’s blood. IT’S BLOOD! What happened? Who did this? WHY ARE THEY COVERED IN BLOOD?! Isn’t it obvious? Who said that? Did I say that? I didn’t hear anybody. I must have thought it… Unless… Is there someone inside my head?! Only what you let in. What’s that supposed to mean? The only things inside your head are the things that you let in. I didn’t let anybody in! But you did. Remember Me? The funny mask Uncle Aaron brought home from Lucky Eights? What are you talking about? Children are so gullible. So naive. So easy to get into and take control of. I-I’m going to call the police! You can try, but the phone is in the next room. I don’t know who this is inside my head but I need to get help… Why can’t I walk? My legs can’t be broken, I’m standing up! No longer are they your legs. They are Our legs. We are one body, and I am the more powerful presence. No! I needed to call the police, or call somebody! But what could they do? Get killed? Mummy and daddy and Uncle Aaron are dead, and We are covered in blood. They’ll take Us away, try to separate Us… Wait. Separate Us? From who? Our family is dead. Who is left to separate Us from? Each other. But We want to be separate! The mask killed Our- Why are We thinking “We” instead of I? Because We are one. We killed Our parents. We killed Our whole family. There’s no going back now. All that We have left are each other. No! The mask killed my family! It used me! It used me to do evil things! And now… Nobody can help me… I’m starting to cry. Not that anybody will hear it. Maybe the tears will wash the mask off. Maybe I’ll drown in them and this will all be over. Maybe I’ll wake up in bed and everyone will be alive and happy and this evil mask won’t exist… But there’s nobody to help Us now. I give up. What does it matter anymore? What does it matter if the mask kills more people? My family is dead. Maybe one of them will stop Us and We - no, I, can go back to my family, in Heaven… Yes. Give in. Give in to the darkness. There’s nothing I can do to stop it. I’m a prisoner in my body. Maybe somebody can stop it. I just hope I don’t have to watch it kill anyone. Unless it’s Janice. She said mean things about Us and the teacher let her get away with it. She needs to be punished. She needs to die. Die at Our hands. For We are Umbulali, Bringer of Death. Let the bloodshed begin. © 2016 Felicity WyrdAuthor's Note
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