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Forum Thread

Behind the Mask [WRITER'S CLUB GHOST STORY]

Forum-Index Fanmades Fanfictions Behind the Mask [WRITER'S CLUB GHOST STORY]
Serendibite
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Trainerlevel: 50

Forum Posts: 116
Posted: Mon, 17/10/2022 17:17 (2 Years ago)
Final wordcount: 705.
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Chuku has always been lonely. No one at her fast food job talks to her. She walks to and from her apartment, listening to the tolling of her clock, or the yapping of unhappy customers. Until one day she meets someone. Thus beginning an affair of which the truth can only be found behind the mask her lover adorns...

or//

Never look a gift horse in the mouth. Or anywhere near its grinning maw, for that matter.

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tw//: implied references animal abuse, horror story, eldritch themes, gore, and general creepiness.

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Behind the Mask


Chuku always wanted to be loved. Every day she would touch her hand to the mirror- and recite something under her breath. A prayer; a wish. One day, she wouldn’t need to look at the mirror. Somebody’s hand would touch hers in a crowd, and she could touch their hand back.

No cold glass beneath her hand, the warmth of a living, breathing person.

That was, until a cold day in April. When she’d met the love of her life.

It wasn’t an unusual day. She’d woken up, skipped breakfast, and headed to work. Work was ordinary. Countless faces melted into each other, forming the repetitive, faceless crowd which hovered at the lunch hour- snarling and clawing at one another as they waited for an order of tasteless fast food and gooey syrup mixed into a glass of water.

Each person made her sick. When it was time for her break, she was relieved. The mess of people and orders which had wrapped into a screaming ball of memory and agony- the eyes and faces vanished, and she closed her eyes and sank her teeth into a sandwich.

An arm touched her shoulder, and then she was lost.

Things had started slow at first. They’d just been friends. She would talk about her job and her manager and her cat at home. And they’d listen and bob their head to and fro.

It was wonderful, talking to someone. Knowing somebody who listened and listened and didn’t stop.

She just wished she could see a smile- so she knew they loved her as she loved them.

Perhaps it was better this way. With the mask, they didn’t form another face in the ball. They were just her companion. Her faceless, precious companion who always appeared at the lunch rush and came to her.

They listened when she complained about the accidents in her apartment. When her former cat vanished and she’d found the rotting corpse under her balcony. When her coworkers stopped talking to her, and when she’d woken up one morning to a house full of cockroaches and the one day where she thought she’d coughed up the eyes of her cat, but when she came to consciousness, found a sink full of blood instead.

Every time they nodded and the mask moved and she didn’t hear any screams.

She didn’t hear anything at all, actually.

That’s when she started to get curious.

Her mysterious lover had never spoken, much less shown their face. Something was underneath there, perhaps. A face she knew, who didn’t want her to know them.

She invited them over to her house. But every time she did it, they never showed up. She wrote out instructions and passed it over.

The next day, she offered another with a time.

Ticktock, ticktock…

The clock of her apartment went back and forth, banging against the wall for each click. She stared into the mirror, brushing her hand over the cool glass- feeling her mirror self’s lips.

Loved, she breathed. We are loved.

A hand brushed over her shoulder. But her lover was not there, even when she turned with a smile.

The door rattled. Chuku straightened her hair, tugged at her cheekbones, and smiled as she pushed the door open.

A familiar, masked face stared back at her.

Chuku grasped the side of their face. But they pulled back and shook their head. She imagined they were smiling- chiding her for trying for the big moment. She smiled and laughed back.

The two started on their date. Food that slipped from her mind- perhaps they ate nothing at all. A movie which she did not remember the plot of- perhaps they saw nothing. Perhaps the date lasted two minutes.

They were sitting down on the couch for food or a movie. They had fallen asleep.

Chuku tapped the side of their mask. They didn’t move. Didn’t chide her.

She locked her fingers into the latch and released.

It tumbled down. And Chuku saw her lover’s face for the first time.

Her own.

Chuku’s own green eyes stared back at her from her lover's shoulders. Her own brown hair brushed past her own porcelain skin. Her own nose and her own cheekbones-

And her own lips, then twisted and stretched in a smile.
to be aesthetic or not to be aesthetic that is not a question because I am not aesthetic at all and nor is this signature