The Masks That We Wear

Chapter One

Chapter One

The little boy peered around the corner, watching the two young detectives conversing, discussing the topic of the murder of the woman that was laying at their feet.

Narrowing his dark green eyes, the little boy, about seven years old, ran his fingers through his dirty blond hair and adjusted the mask on his face, before he turned around, making his way quickly down the old street as a light rain began to fall from the sky.

Pulling his coat tighter around him, the young boy started to run, splashing through the puddles that were quickly gathering at his feet on the stones below.

Glancing around, making sure no one was following him, or generally that no one was around, he ducked into another alley and continued on his journey, every few seconds he turned to make sure he was alone.

The punishment for leading an outside back to the base was not worth the risk.

Eventually, the young boy found the large piece of rotten wood, and, looking around, he hesitated before pushing it out of the way and locating a camouflaged door.

Pulling it open, he slipped inside, pulling the piece of wood back over, before he slid the door shut and turned around.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he walked down the old hallway, the black and red carpet under his feet making his footsteps silent in the old building, as he reached a nearly demolished stone staircase and began to head up it, the old thing remarkably still sturdy.

He soon reached the grand, yet old and slightly rotten oak doors, which he knocked lightly on before pushing them open and slipping inside.

“M’lady?” The little boy spoke softly, walking down the isle between broken stone benches that were in rows on either side.

Up on the platform at the end, was a lithe woman, a long purple and black dress flowing over her body, her shoulders covered with a black cloak, and her face covered by a gorgeous mask. 

She was sitting on a window seat that was under a large bay window that looked out over the waters of the bay that the base, an old abandoned warehouse to be precise, sat near.

The boy adjusted the mask on his own face, it was his favorite treasure, the members of The Masks having the opportunity to decorate their own masks and make them their own, but, in comparison to The Lady’s mask, his always felt disgraceful.

“Riley.” The woman nodded, her voice soft and melodic, easing the boy’s nerves as he fell down onto one knee, lowering his head in a sign of respect.

He looked up quickly when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and found that the woman, The Lady of The Masks, to be precise, had approached him and now held her hand on his shoulder.

She allowed him to stand, not removing her hand as he stared up at her, her beautiful brunette hair fell in ringlets down her back and over the cloak, and her piercing golden hazel coloured eyes watched him intently in return, through the holes in her mask.

“It’s rude to stare...” She murmured softly, her eyes flickering away from his, as his face lit up beneath the mask and he lowered his head.

“I’m sorry, m’lady.” He squirmed uncomfortably, and the woman let out a light sigh.

“Its fine, child. Now, have you done what I told you to?” She inquired, and the boy’s eyes flickered back up to her, before they moved away as he nodded quickly.

“Yes, I did. The detective and his partner are on to something, I believe. He believes that there is someone leading The Masks, and he’s wanting to find out who.”