The Man in the White Mask Won’t Leave Me Alone

I wasn’t surprised to find the man in the white mask, waiting for me. He was in my backyard, sitting on one of the lawn chairs we keep in the back. It pisses me off that ‘people’ like him don’t hesitate to invade a place that was supposed to be home.

I think of telling him to fuck off, but that wouldn’t be wise. My little girl was asleep inside, my son was babysitting for a friend, and my boyfriend was currently at his job. I didn’t want to frighten any of them, I loved them so much, and I would do anything to ensure their safety.

“What the fuck do you want?”

The man stood up, swinging his arms back and forth like a bored child. He was wearing a sort of circus like outfit, the kind that belonged on a nutcracker. He pretended to be interested in my soulless backyard, before addressing my question.

“I’m here to speak with your son.”

“He’s not here.”

“Oh? Where is he, then?”

“Nowhere.”

“What does that mean? Nowhere would mean that he is not on the planet. Or perhaps he is dead. Which is it?”

I don’t respond. The man giggles behind his mask. I resist the impulse to charge over there and rip it off of him.

“You’re a bit funny, Stranger. That’s what everyone calls you. How sad that none of us know your real name.”

“I would rather keep it that way.”

The man lifted his head up to the sky, releasing a heavy sigh. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had rolled his eyes beneath his mask.

“If I can’t speak to him today, when can I speak to your son? It’s rather urgent.”

“I don’t want you to speak to my boy. Ever.”

“You’re such a spoil sport. My rival was right about you. That man is capable of so much more, but he refused to continue his work. All because of his family. At least three of them are now dead. Especially the eldest. He was haughty, that one. And. So. Fucking. Annoying.”

“He was,” I replied before I could stop myself.

The man looked at me, not moving. I think he was smiling.

“Something we can agree on. Thank you for killing him, by the way. Never got to thank you for that. It was your son’s work, right?”

“I killed him. Not my son. He spared him, but I ended him.”

The man put two hands up to his mask, showing off his mock surprise.

“Everyone was right about you. You are a ruthless one. A killer. Through and through.”

I clench my hands into fists. I think of my daughter inside of the house, and it is enough to prevent me from doing something I might regret. It was true of what I did, but I had no choice. I pictured how it felt when I finally killed that piece of shit. He was a monster, and even though I was grateful that my son wasn’t the one to kill him, someone had to.

I saw the way my boyfriend looked at me afterwards, but I ignored that expression. I think he was scared of me, but I didn’t have a choice. He never would have stopped coming after me and my family.

The man took a bow.

“I better be off. I don’t think I’m going to have much luck with speaking to your son. I don’t care to fight you. Not because I’m scared you will kill me, I just am not in the mood to fight. Besides, I don’t think I want to continue ruining this ugly mug.”

The man pulled off his mask. I wasn’t sure what I was seeing at first. The man was handsome, but his skin looked hideous. Black cracks were spread across his face, like he was an actual porcelain doll that had to glue his face back together. His hair was white, his skin was a light shade of blue, and his eyes were a pure black.

He looked like an actual animated cartoon villain. I wasn’t sure whether to be creeped out or laugh my ass off.

“I know I look terrible. It was the price I was willing to pay to give myself power. Would you believe me if I told you that a couple of women have thrown themselves at me? I suppose some people like fucked up things.”

He placed the mask back on his face. “I wonder what sort of damage you could do to me? Would I fully break? Or would I be disappointed? That is going to be wonderful to find out.”

The man lifted up gloved hand, placed his fingers on the lips of the mask, and blew a kiss at me.

“Until we meet again, Stranger.”

A flash of a white light startled me, and I lifted up my arms too late, the brightness blinding my vision. When I looked back, he was gone.

“Fucking asshole,” I muttered.

I saw the chair that man had sat on, and I ran over to it. I lifted up the chair, and I ripped it into two pieces. It felt good to use my strength like that, but I immediately felt terrible. It belonged to my boyfriend, and he always sat in that chair, telling me of his past adventures.

I let the pieces fall to the ground, and I thought of how I had killed the eldest son. He had been ripped in half, like a chopstick. I had done that to him, using my bare hands. I scared everyone. I could see it in their eyes. I didn’t mean to kill him like that. But I was so angry. I wanted him dead. I wanted him to suffer.

I stared at the pieces of the chair, imagining blood stains suddenly spilling onto those scraps. I blinked when I realized the blood was not in my head.

I looked at my hands. I had punctured my palms with my own fingernails. I watched as my wounds slowly healed, until there was nothing left.

Only the blood remained.

And it felt good.

Thank you for reading!

Emy Quinn