The Masked Society

“You must wear this mask at all times,” the man ordered. I was pretty sure his name was Angelo something, but I wasn’t sure. He had talked really fast. We were seating in a café, a neutral location. I was a shifter, so I hired myself out to various jobs for other people. You could make a lot of money assuming someone else’s face. 

“Does it have anything to do with why you’re wearing a mask,” I questioned as I examined the material he gave me. It was a high quality ceramic with gold decoration. His own was more simple with designs etched into the ceramic itself. Whoever these people were that I was supposed to meet, they were pretty serious about their masks. 

“Yes, so you must never take this mask off. You mustn’t say a word. Do you understand me,” the man repeated. His voice sounded familiar, but it was hard to tell with the carefully decorated ceramic mask. I could still see his short brown hair. I’d need that if I wanted to take on his form. 

“Yeah, sure, but it was cost you extra.”

“I’ll pay whatever you want. Do we have a deal?”

“Of course.” We shook on it, and he gave me the date, time, and location of this meeting.

Now, I was actually there. I slipped on the mask as easily as I did any other face. Yes, being a shifter had its benefits. One of which was being hired to do just about anything as long as it wasn’t your face you were wearing. This job required an actual mask, though, so I obliged. With everyone wearing a mask, it was a lot creepier than I thought it would be. 

There were about two dozen others walking with me into the building. It was dark, and there weren’t other people around. This part of the city was dead at night. Even the members of this society were silent. 

The building turned out to be something like a converted gym. There were definitely more than two dozen members in this cult. The walls were lined with bleachers and stands. Every seat was filled. As I filed in with the rest of them, I tried not to squirm. This job didn’t seem so fun now. 

“Welcome, brethren,” someone called, his words echoing through the stadium. When I looked at the center of the room, I saw a small group of people huddled on a stage, all wearing masks. One man had a microphone to his mouth, so it was assumed that it was his voice in the speakers. Only, the words were computerized. There was a slight difference in the way that computers and people talked, and I knew that. That voice was nothing more than the text to speech option. 

“We have gathered here once again to bestow a great gift on one of our own. Achille Baroffio, please come forward,” the man, the computer continued. There were no other sounds as a man came forward. The small group departed to reveal another man who was gagged and bound. No mask covered his face, and even though I was far away, I could just imagine the terror in his eyes. 

Achille Baroffio came forward and knelt in front of the captive man. It was interesting to see the two sides of the coin. The struggling, wide-eyed man versus the relaxed body of Achille. I obviously couldn’t see the latter’s face, but I assumed he knew what was going on. If he did, he didn’t seem the least bit fazed by it. Well, I didn’t really know what was going on, but I didn’t think it was very good. 

“Let the ceremony commence,” the same voice declared. A woman in the circle took out a knife and cut the captive’s cheek. The poor man tried to slink away, but the woman held him firm. Then, Achille tipped his head back as the woman let the blood drip off the blade and onto the mask. The once silent room was filled with screams. I sat still, not daring to make a sound. 

Before my very eyes, the prisoner’s face faded to nothing. Nothing. All he was left with was a blank slate. His screams disappeared with his mouth. When Achille turned around, he flung off his mask, and I couldn’t help but gasp. He was wearing the prisoner’s face as it had always been his own. What had been under that mask before, I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know. 

“It has been done, brethren. It’s been done,” the computerized voice cried. No one cheered, but they all nodded like a bunch of robots. Who are these people, I thought. What was that? 

After the meeting, we all shuffled out and went our separate ways. Once I was in a cab away from prying eyes, I tore the mask off and took a breath. 

“You alright,” the driver inquired, but I just waved him off. That was some meeting. Bunch of creepy people in masks and magic I had never felt before, but above all, there was the question burning in my mind. Achille stole that man’s face, so what had been under that mask before?

Finally, my apartment building came into view, and the cab came to a stop. I tossed the driver some cash, taking a breath of the cool night air. I clutched the mask tightly my hand as I walked into the building. 

“Mom,” I called when I opened our apartment door. A groan was the only response, and after hanging up my keys, I found her slumped over on the kitchen table with her textbooks spread out before her. There were a number of reasons I was taking a gap year and hiring myself out to various people. Mom was one of the main ones. She’d worked so hard to get into college but paying for it was the only issue. My dad had died a few years, so it was just the two of us. Since I had a full ride to the local university, Mom was the one who needed the money. What I had done to deserve such generosity, I had no idea. Maybe it was my stellar grades or my exceptional performance in the school play. I had a few scattered classes for the semester, but I was getting my credits. 

With a sigh, I walked into my room and flopped down on my bed. Oh, a text message, I thought. 

Did you do it, it read. I groaned. It was Angelo from the café. I had half-hoped to find a text from my boyfriend Caleb. He was attending the same university, but it had been a few days since I’d seen him on campus. Actually, it had been more than a week. Don’t worry about it, I told myself and turned my attention to the text I did have. 

Yes, I went. That place was super creepy, I replied. 

You’ll need to go again. I was about to refuse when he added something else. 

I’ll pay you double, he sent, and I couldn’t refuse. He already owed me $100 for the night. 

When?

Same time next week. I shot back a thumbs-up emoji. 

“Anastasia, are you home,” Mom called. 

“In here,” I replied, and her weary face appeared in the doorway. She was in her early forties, though her hair was already starting to grey. It had been doing that ever since dad died. 

“I didn’t hear you come in.” 

“I just got back from a job.”

She sighed. “You know I don’t like you doing those jobs.” 

“Well, the guy has agreed to pay me double,” I declared. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be careful. It doesn’t seem too bad.” 

“Serial killers don’t look too bad.”

“Relax, Mom. It’s fine,” I assured her and stood to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I better get something to eat.” She nodded but still didn’t look pleased. Of course, she wouldn’t. These jobs could be dangerous. Dad had gotten killed on one. He had been a shifter, and he taught me all that he could before he died. From then on, I learned on my own. 

After popping a pizza in the oven, I headed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, watching my face slowly change into someone else’s. First, Caleb. Then, Dad and a few other people I saw in a magazine. Finally, I switched back to my own face. It was tiring to change faces so quickly, but it was necessary to work past the fatigue. Just one of the many things I had learned. 

“Why do you do that,” Mom questioned, and I turned to find her standing in the doorway. 

“Do what,” I responded. 

“You’ve stopped wearing your real face.” I chuckled. Why wear my real face when I could be someone better? Why be plain when I could be extraordinary?

“I don’t know, Mom. It’s just good practice,” I replied as she frowned. 

“Oh, baby, I miss seeing your real face. You were so beautiful.” I almost snapped that I wasn’t. I was ordinary and unnoticed. Everyone liked this face better. Caleb liked this face better. I liked this face better. My blue eyes were perfect compared to the old simple brown. Gone were the scattered freckles. I was better this way. 

“I’m going to eat,” I said simply and brushed past her. She started to protest but soon realized it was no use. 

That night, when I curled up in bed, I couldn’t think of anything except that strange ceremony at the meeting. If I was ever going back there, I needed to know what that was about. So, the next morning, I phoned Angelo and told him to meet me at the café. Some people still gave him weird looks because of his mask, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

“What do you want,” he questioned as soon as he sat down. 

“Tell me more about that society you sent me to,” I replied, taking a sip of my bitter coffee. 

“You saw the ceremony, I take it.”

“Yes, I saw that stupid ceremony. Now, you’re going to tell me exactly what it was or I’m never going back.”

“We both know that’s not true. You’re intrigued, I can tell. You would go back anyway,” he declared. “Still, there’s no harm in telling. The Masked Crusaders steal other people’s face for themselves.”

“Why?”

“For the same reason they all wear masks.” For a second, I just stared at him. Then, it set in, and I cursed under my breath. 

“They don’t have faces, do they,” I asked. That meant Angelo didn’t have one either. 

“No, they don’t.” I had heard bits and pieces about people like that from Dad. He said that while we could take on other faces, there were some people that didn’t have one to begin with. Either that or their face was stolen from them. They were dangerous, doing anything they could to get faces. Dad had always warned me to stay away from them, yet here I was in the middle of it. 

“How can you speak? You don’t have a face under that mask,” I inquired. Without a face, there was no mouth. Without a mouth, there was no speech. 

“Someone tried to steal my face, but they only partly succeeded. I still have a few features left.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me,” I hissed, and if the man had a face, he would have smirked.

“You seemed willing to take the money regardless,” he answered. 

“I’m not going back,” I decided and stood to leave. I was a few feet away from the table when his voice stopped me. 

“If you go, I’ll pay the full expenses of your mother’s tuition. All I ask is that you attend one more meeting.” I stiffened. How did he know about my mother? Was this all a trap? Those people were dangerous, I knew that. Did I dare to go to another meeting? Did I dare test my luck?

“Are you lying to me,” I whispered, angling in his direction. The rest of the room faded away like it was just the two of us. I didn’t care who heard us or what they thought. If he was willing to pay for all of it, I wasn’t going to refuse.

“No. If you attend another meeting, your mother’s tuition will be paid in full,” he replied. “Do we have a deal?” These people are dangerous, Ana, my father’s voice rang in my ears. Still, I bit my lip and nodded. 

“We had a deal,” I decided and walked out. I managed about three blocks before ducking into the nearest shop, muttering something about the bathroom. I stared in the mirror and tried to reason with myself. I’ll be careful, I thought. Nothing is going to happen. It didn’t work. Fear still ran through my veins. For a second, I let myself shift until it was my father’s face I was looking at. He had warned me. People like this were dangerous. I shouldn’t have gone to the meeting in the first place, but now I was given an offer I couldn’t refuse. If the tuition was paid in full, I wouldn’t have to do any more jobs. There wouldn’t be a reason to. This is the last, I told myself. This is it.

As I was walking home and trying to clear my head, I bumped into a familiar face. 

“Caleb,” I exclaimed and wrapped my arms around him. He laughed softly, pulling me closer. 

“Hey, Ana,” he replied as he pulled away. For a second, he just studied my face. 

“What is it,” I inquired. 

“That’s not your real face, is it?” I stiffened. Caleb knew I was a shifter. Most of my friends did, but he’d never asked something like that. 

“No, it’s not. Why?”

“Just curious.” He walked me home. We talked, but his question never left my head. What was that about, I wondered. 

A week later, I donned that ceramic mask and headed to the warehouse. I walked silently with the rest of them and took my seat in the stands. This is the last, I kept telling myself like a mantra. 

“Brethren, tonight is a special night. We have been blessed. You will be blessed,” the computerized voice rang. My blood rang cold as the group in the center turned to me. Someone nudged me forward. I wanted to resist, but that would just draw more attention to myself. As I got closer to the stage, the group became more clear. One of the members was starting to look very familiar. 

“It’s you,” I exclaimed before I remember not to speak. 

“Take off your mask, shifter,” Angelo coaxed, and again, I was reminded of how familiar he sounded. I shuddered, weighing my options. If I tried to fight, I’d have dozens of people on my back. Without another word, I slipped off the mask.

“See, brethren, we have a shifter among us,” the voice exclaimed, and that’s when it hit me. These people were stealing faces. Shifters were creatures of many faces. I gasped. They were going to take each one. Who knew what would happen?

“Shift,” Angelo suggested. I was going to refuse and take off running, but then I thought about all those people without faces. Maybe I could help them. Maybe everything would be alright. 

“Form a single file line,” the voice ordered as the members shuffled about. The one from before held up the knife and cut my face. It stung, and I cried out. That pain, though, was nothing compared to when the woman let my blood fall from the blade. Gosh, it felt like my essence was being stripped away. I started to scream, but soon, my mouth disappeared as well. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t speak. 

“Just shift,” Angelo whispered, and I tried. I pictured another face I had seen in a magazine and changed a few of the details. Slowly, the room came back into focus. We began again. Each time, the process got easier until I cried that I couldn’t do it anymore. The computerized voice declared they were done for the night, and the people dispersed. I must have looked absolutely spent because Angelo offered to walk me home as soon as I slipped my personal mask back on. 

“Who are you,” I inquired once we were a good distance from the warehouse. 

“What do you mean,” he asked as a response. 

“You sound so familiar, and you seem to care about me to an extent.”

“I thought you would have figured it out. I mean, I know my voice is a bit different because of the mask, but come on, Ana.” I stopped and turned to him. 

“Caleb,” I muttered, and he chuckled. 

“I was wondering when you would figure it out.”

“But how—”

“My father’s face was stolen. He was admitted to this society, and he used the computer to tell me what happened there. He said a shifter could help him,” he said and hung his head. “I’m sorry for lying, Ana.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you wouldn’t come.”

“I would have come just for you,” I whispered and reached up to his mask. “Take it off.”

“Only if you take yours off,” he replied. 

“I’m not wearing one.”

“Yes, Ana, you are. You’ve been wearing one for a long time. Take it off. Let me see you.” Without another word, I shifted, and he slid down his mask. His perfect green eyes met my plain brown ones, but he didn’t seem to care. He brushed his finger against my cheek and pushed my hair from my eyes like he had done so many times before. Only, this time it was different. This time it was me. No façade. 

No mask.