A Past Well Forgotten (Masky X [NONGENDERED] Reader)

The Masked Man

Once in the house, you find a disappointing display of absolutely nothing. A mansion of this size would normally be decadently and artistically designed in either 18th century art or possibly modern abstractism. This place was neither. White walls, empty rooms, ugly floors.
You ponder this insignificant choice of decor as a way to distract yourself from the horrifying situation that you've found yourself in. And after trotting like a lost puppy after your possible kidnappers through nothing but blank blanc rooms, you end up in what can only be described as a hospital waiting room.
"(your name)? Are you alright?" The Masked Man asked. Because of his mask his expression was unreadable, but you could tell by the tone of his voice he was worried. Who is he? How does he know you? You feel yourself urged to ask these questions, but fear the consequences.
" Yeah.. fine," you blurt out. You know it wasn't the most convincing act you've ever done, but he says nothing more.  Instead, he flops into one of the waiting-room-chairs, grabs a remote and flicks on the television. He aimlessly scanned the channels- not seeming to even be interested, but had nothing else to do. After the hour-feeling minutes of infomercial-click-cartoon-click-reality show-click-
"You don't seem fine." he said flatly. How were you supposed act? What were you going to say?
"Do you need to talk? You can tell me anything, it's just me."
There was a long pause between you two. It seemed like an eternity, or perhaps maybe two. You were almost relieved when Toby approached you. "(your name), it's your turn to talk to boss."