Prologue: A Master and a Maiden

A hoarse groan echoed through the spacious room. She had tried almost everything. She had pulled it, yanked it, clawed at it…but it remained. It refused to set her free. She pressed her fingers to her head, trying once again to tear it off of her face. Her fingers slipped right off, as they had done thousands of times before. She strove to stay docile, but the hopelessness of the situation overwhelmed her.

“Get it off of me! Get it off of me!”

The screeches rang through the cell. Her thoughts were a whirlwind. Get it off. Get it off. Let me go! Get it off! She began to hyperventilate. Everything around her turned fuzzy and red. Every sound was a million times louder. Breathe in, breathe out. Faster, faster, faster! She squeezed her eyes shut and spontaneously shot face first at an illuminated wall panel.

BANG.

The room shook beneath her feet as she struggled to regain her balance. No…no! She opened her eyes and slowly brought her hand to touch it. Her face began to burn in frustration, her head about ready to explode. Body completely numb, she slid slowly to the floor as a series of hot tears began streaming down her face. Why did they do this to me? What have I ever done?

Her head shot up.

The master.

He would come for her soon for causing such a commotion. Her eyes widened in horror at the thought.

Where there was a wall panel, a door appeared, opening with a torturous creak.

“Misbehaving…again?” he asked coldly.

“Get it off of me…get it…off…me…” she croaked.

She heard the sound of his spine-chilling footsteps making their way closer to her. Through the slit holes for her eyes, the only thing she could see was a dark figure with a lash gripped firmly in his fist. It was made of strands of fiber glass, with hooks attached at the ends of each. It made for a pain like no other.

“Stand up and turn around,” he commanded her.

“Please! No! No!”

“You dare defy me? Stand up and turn around!” he barked.

She froze. Oh, how she wanted to do as he told, but her fear was pinning her to the ground. Furious, he clenched her wrist in his free hand and hauled her up on her feet. She began to sob. The skin exposed on from her crop top was infected with goose bumps as he turned her around.

“Noooo!”

The sound of the lash latching onto its prey was swallowed by her screams of sheer agony. She dropped to the floor, as if it were going to shield her…but of course it wasn’t. He landed a foot on her right side and towered over her. Soon after, the lashes came and hit her back in syllables.

“I’ve…”

Whip, CRACK!

“Had…”

Whip, CRACK!

“E…”

Whip, CRACK!

“nough!”

Whip, CRACK!

A bonus. He yanked her once more to her feet and detached the mask. Immediately, she saw a solid fist come at her face, and she landed hard onto the floor with a shriek. He swiftly grabbed her chin and reattached the mask to her face. She felt like her consciousness was slowly fading away as she spat blood out onto the floor. He simply stood, watching her chuffing in pain, examining the deep messy wounds he had creased into her. She coughed uncontrollably, her throat tightening as the battle to breathe grew more severe. The man bent down to meet eye to eye with her.

“You will wear it until you die in it. Don’t ever make me come back down here again.”

She watched him through her watery eyes as he walked out the door. It shut with a thud, accompanied by the sound of multiple latches. It was back to a solid wall panel of light. This had been her life for many years…

She didn’t know who she was, or where she was. She didn’t care. All she knew was that to others, she was a mistake. All she ever saw was lights and silhouettes. And all she wanted was to see the world, to not be trapped by the mask any longer…

A scene unfolded in front of her.

“The mask is staying on. You are not to take it off. You are not to leave this room. If you try to take it off or escape, you will be punished. By me. Follow my orders. Do not leave. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“…Yes master.”

She saw the two silhouettes, a work of her imagination, and could hear her innocent and frightened six year old voice. Soon reality broke in, and she realized that she was alone in the room, her wounds still caked in blood. She felt a chill spread through her body, despite her black, leather leggings and the seclusion of the cell. It still reeked of distress and anguish. Her eyes automatically glanced towards her right forearm. There, tattooed in repulsive green ink was her number.

PRISONER 18045

Her records:

“THE MAIDEN IN THE MASK”

If she were a maiden, why was she here in a prison cell? She suddenly felt drenched in guilt. Whatever she did to get herself here must’ve been awful, so bad that her face was a foul symbol. But she knew something was off. She just had to find a way out of here. It seemed almost impossible with the nearly inedible food and long nights of minimal sleep, but perhaps she could conjure up a plan. She managed to walk up to the one wall panel that seemed to create a door for the master to enter. It was just there…disobedient to her command to change. There was something the master did to make it turn into a door. What is it? Or did it…only appear…when activated…from the other side…She dropped to the floor once again in defeat. If the door opened from the other side, there was no escape.

She laid her head down onto the frigid floor, resting every beaten bone in her body. Eyes shut. Steady breathing. She was ready to cry now. There hadn’t been a single night where she hadn’t cried herself to sleep…