This Is a Love Story: Masky x Reader

1

Today, was an exceptionally beautiful day on the lake shore. Just like on any other spring morning, the air was still crisp and cool. A fresh coat of dew had settled on the grass and the morning mist had yet to disappear. The lake's murky water disturbed by the ripples of frightened animals, as they flee from the sudden loud disruption.

Unease was in the air; almost as dense as the mist. Dogs barking could be heard in the far distance. Frightened ducks flew over head, scurrying away from now the second loud bang that had sent the remaining few of them flying. Even though they had been fleeing in fear, their graceful exit still providing a small escape from reality.

Until their flight path brought my line of sight back to the barrel of the hand gun that was pointed right at me and the deviously happy man behind the trigger. Ready to take the kill shot and leave me dead where I lay.

They say these moments happen in the flash of an eye. Before you can even catch your breath it was over but this. This was painfully slow, a never ending loop of pain and anguish. My breath hitched; realization that this would be my very last.

I tried to shut my eyes, that way I would not see it coming but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I could only stare it head on as I heard the man mumble something. He looked aside to his partner in crime; her finger pointing in the opposite direction.

His face; once twisted into one of adrenaline and joy now resembled slight panic. Did they forget that there was a world outside this very moment? Easy to see how one could get lost in the moment, with all the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

The gun lowered, I had become an afterthought of their sick game. They contemplated for a moment, then they flee the scene of the crime and leave me for dead. But what was it that sent them flying? Was it the police? It had to be, that's the only logical thing. They were armed after all well he was at least.

I turned to look at the unknown person (or thing) as their tires screeched in the distance and echoes once again disturbed the quiet of the scenic morning. There were no policemen, squad car. No mob or group of people. Just a man. A lone man leisurely walking towards me.

His presence was dark and looming; though he never gave reason to feel that way. Besides the white mask he wore over his face, it's facial features made up of black. He wore jeans and a yellow jacket, with brown hair. Nothing too unusual and still his presence brought a feeling of impending doom.

All I could do was swallow the lump in my throat; maybe pinch my side and make sure I wasn't dreaming. I had to be. I had two bullets in my chest but I couldn't feel it. I saw the wounds, clear as day. They gurgled blood that leaked off the large purple t-shirt I had worn and dropped onto the floor into the puddle that was accumulating.

How could I feel both nothing and complete and utter fear at the same time? Why was this man so nonchalant about what he had seen. He must have seen it, why else would they run away? They must have felt the same wave of fear that I did when they saw him.

He was unarmed, I could see he had nothing on him to defend himself but why did he make me feel like whatever he could do was far worse then being gunned down on a lake shore.

His brown boot came down next to my head. I had no time to think, move and speak. Was he going to walk over me like I was just an obstacle in his path. No he looked down at me. Bringing an immediate tightness in my chest; I could feel it now. The bullet wounds that riddled it. My body flinches at the pain as my mind seemed to go crazy with thought.

He turned his body as he leaned down toward me. I see white fabric in his gloved right hand; I must have failed to see it in my delusional state.

He was going to smother me with it. I've seen it many times before. In every cheesy crime drama and thriller.

I jolted forwarded, my hand shot up at his. My eyes feeling dry but had teared up in pain. He tilted his head, like a confused dog. He shook his head, I couldn't tell but it felt like he found humor him my defensiveness. He put a gloved finger to my mouth, a sort of be still. The fabric brushed against my skin for a moment.

He pulled at his gloves; carefully pocketing them in is jacket. He placed the fabric against my chest and applied a good amount of pressure leaving me to get just enough air in. His other hand quickly rubbing gently on my knee; his weird way of comforting me.

Through all of this he didn't say a word. Didn't ask my name or what happened. He just silently stopped the bleeding. I too said nothing, I was defeated. I could hear the sound of faint sirens in the distance. They couldn't be for me, there was no one who could have called for help.

It was just me and this strange mute man. No this was my final resting place; on the shore of the local lake by the hands of people I would have never expected, next to a... kind? stranger. I lay my head on the grass; I had to accept that this was the end for me. I was ready. Death take me away.

I hear the sirens, red lights flashing and painting the walls of the near by buildings. The man beside me; keeping me from bleeding out, was suddenly mask-less. His features on display in front of me as he looked up toward the help that came to our aid.

He seemed emotionless; a robot doing its duty. He waved the people to us; I could hear them rushing over towards me. I was overtaken by relief, so shocked and grateful that all those people didn't have faces. Only he did, who was he?

"My friend was attacked, I couldn't see by who, they ran away as soon as I got close enough."

He told the paramedic who was overtaking care of my wounds. From there on all I could hear was muffled voices.

"Friend?"

Maybe he was.. just a kind stranger.