Mask of the Dead

Would you put on the Mask of the Dead?

         “Where’s the novelty?” Alec muttered a little too loudly.

         “What’s that dear?” his wife quickly responded. She knew he hated these little weekend trips to the second-hand stores. It seemed work, television, and complaining were the only things he took comfort in anymore.

         “Nothing, I’m sorry, just a little tired I guess,” he said with a bored to tears look on his face.

         She put her hand on her head and took a deep venting sigh. He had been like this all morning. She could see he was going to be in this mood until she gave up and they went home or they had another argument.

         Damn him, she thought, he’s not happy unless he’s bringing me down.

         “Honey,” the word seemed to stick in her throat, “Listen. Why don’t you just wait in the car. You can listen to the radio and I’ll try to hurry up and look around.”

         She nearly whimpered out the last sentence. He rolled his eyes, took a deep breath and looked at her. He knew a fight would break out if he refused. This was sickening. Getting upset over him not wanting to browse over dusty, old knickknacks.

         “Alright Sarah,” he muttered “Fine, I’ll wait for you in the car.” He paused and added, “But hurry up.”

         That had done it. He had to have the last word. She had already told him she was going to hurry, but he had to make it seem like an order. Sarah shook her head and stormed off up an aisle as Alec went out the exit. He slammed the door as hard as he could, hoping that it would fall off its hinges. It shuddered, but didn’t break.

         The sidewalk outside the shop was lined by vendors with carts and Native Americans with blankets full of authentic Native you-name-its. It was like this every Sunday at the strip mall. Alec, however, was oblivious to everything but his resentment.

         Why does she always have to drag me to these little, out of the way strip malls, he thought. Junk stores, they’re all junk stores and she dumps my money into each and every one of them.

         His anger was palpable. Anyone who walked past would see a man ready to explode. Rage burned behind his eyes like a fire.

         “Hey!” cried out an angry old Indian “watch where you’re going!”

         Alec, blinded by fury, had hastily walked across this old man’s blanket full of wares. The old man sat cross-legged on the sidewalk with his arms folded across his chest as he scolded the gatecrasher.

         “I’m sorry.” Alec stuttered “I didn’t see you there.”

         He bent down to pick up the items he’d scattered onto the sidewalk. The old man sat motionless. Alec raised his eyes to the old Indian’s face. His hair was long and white and seemed to frame his round, wrinkled face. His eyes were green like ocean shallows. The old man’s gaze looked deep into Alec, as if he saw more than the man who knelt down before him. Alec couldn’t take his stare away from the man's face, until embarrassment and modesty finally made him look away.

         “I’m sorry, again” Alec said, his voice now somewhat trembling. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

         The Indian broke off his stare and smiled a nearly toothless grin. “Sure,” he chuckled “You could buy something. I ain’t sold nuthin all day.”

         “Sure, sure...” Alec replied. He looked around the blanket. Most Natives were selling animal bone jewelry or dream catchers. This old man however, had the most bizarre and useless items imaginable. Some bordered on the grotesque. There were dried chicken feet, something that looked like a dried up paw, possibly from a monkey, and there were even jars with pickled frogs.

         I can see why he hasn’t sold anything yet, Alec thought to himself. Then a strange mask in the center of the blanket caught his eye. That wasn’t there a minute ago? Or was it?

         He picked it up to observe it closer. The mask was made of leather. It seemed to be a human face, complete with lashed eyelids and stubble on its chin. Its cheeks were puffed out and there were even wrinkles folded over into the hide. The expression it wore was that of anger, no not anger but rage. Alec was drawn to it and looked back to the old Indian.

         “How much is this?” he asked.

         “The Mask of the Dead?” The Indian questioned, “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

         Alec knelt there silently for a moment. The Mask of the Dead he thought. The name sent a shiver down his spine. Then a wave of reason washed over him. This Indian was going to play him for a sucker. He was going to make it into some Indian artifact, when it was probably stitched together out of old cowhide.

         “Sure old timer, this is what I want. How much?” Alec said. He tried his best to give the old man a ‘you’re not going to fool me’ expression.

         “If this is what you want,” the old man responded with a knowing smile, “I’ll let it go for 50 bucks.”

         Alec nodded his head in agreement. He pulled out his wallet and gave the man a fifty-dollar bill. He was about to walk away when the old man still sitting called out to him.

         “Son!” he exclaimed, “Why don’t you take a bag. That,” nodding at the mask “might scare your wife.”

         Alec took the bag from his hand and placed the mask inside. With that the old man began to pack up his blanket full of oddities. Alec was going to question the Indian but his wife coldly tapped him on the shoulder to inform him she had “hurried up” and wanted to leave and go home.

         The rest of the day went much as Alec had expected. She was going to do her best to ruin his day and he was going to return the favor in kind. All they ever did was fight. He would work all day and then she would pester him to do chores and things around the house when all he wanted to do was relax. Alec firmly believed that housework was Sarah’s job and he had little desire to share in their mundane delights. He didn’t feel as though he bonded better with his wife by folding pants together.

         Ever since we went to that damn marriage counselor, Sarah always wants to share in everything, Alec once thought. Always pressing me to tell her my feelings, just to keep 'the line of communication' open.

         All Alec knew he was ready to snap if things kept up the way they were.

         This minor spat began with just a little bickering about his attitude in the shop. Bickering turned into arguing, arguing to shouting, shouting turned into an all out fight until Sarah, crying, locked herself in their bedroom.

         Alec retreated to the living room. He tried to calm down, but his blood was boiling over. He looked out the living room window and realized they had argued the day away. It was late into the night and he had to work tomorrow. He threw himself down on the couch in anger and sat right on top of his recent acquisition.

         “Fifty bucks.” He muttered shaking his head as he pulled the bag out from under him.

         He realized that he wasted his money on something that would end up in the garbage. He took the mask out of the bag and to his horror the expression of anger, which had once been so plainly molded on its face, had turned into a grin of mischief. The lids seemed pressed together as if holding back laughter and its lips were open wide as if to show off the unseen teeth of its smile. Alec dropped the mask to the floor and stepped back staring at it.

         What? What the hell? He thought, how did it change?

         Even then the initial shock was wearing off. His mind raced for an answer. The bag was plastic he reasoned. The heat from being in the bag must have made it shift. Plus, he had just crushed it under his weight. That had to have something to do with it. He was just on edge. Picking up the mask, he began to examine it again. He flipped it over and found the back was smooth, but grooved. These grooves formed a spider web pattern over the entire rear surface.

         “Mask of the Dead,” he chuckled as a new, clever notion tickled his intellect “I know I’ll put this on and scare the hell out of Sarah. I’ll bust through that cheap bedroom lock and really put a fright in her.”

         He knew it was a dumb idea, but the thought grew in his mind. “She wants to fight and ruin my day, my life” he deliberated, “Then maybe she deserves to have the wits scared out of her.”

         Without even thinking, Alec quietly snuck up the stairs to his bedroom and stood outside the door. She’d hate him for at least a week, but the expression on her face would be worth it. He looked down at the mask, it now wore a devilish grin, but Alec was beyond noticing.

         He put the mask on his face and it took a moment to arrange it properly before he could see straight. Then, as if he found the right position, the mask seemed to fit perfectly. Actually, it didn’t even feel like he was wearing a mask. Oh, he knew she was going to make him pay for this, so he figured he might as well make the most of it.

         Just then, as if his conscience was trying to drown out his rage, an image of his wedding day flashed into his thoughts. The memory was of his wife standing at entrance to the church, looking so nervous and so beautiful. It was at that moment, he knew for certain he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

         “But what about all the days after?” a dark voice asked from within his mind. “You were naive then and love was simpler. Do you still feel the same?”

         I do love her, Alec thought.

         Almost mockingly it replied, “Yes, you love her. But does she really love you? Would she treat you the way she does if she loved you?”

         Alec felt his heart was going to pull in two. Surely, he thought, surely she loves me. We’re just having a hard time. I shouldn’t do this. It’ll just make things worse. And he reached his hand up to remove the mask.

         At that moment, an image he greatly feared entered his mind. A memory he had buried down deep, but somehow the voice had found it. “Remember how she shows you her love?”

         He tried to force the image out, but the mental picture of his wife making love to another man had brought the memory and all his grief back to the surface.

         The remembrance, along with all the pain it caused, returned to him in full clarity. He had walked in on her right in the middle of her indiscretion. The shock of the moment muted his anger. He and Sarah never really discussed the incident. After a brief separation, they got back together after seeing that marriage counselor. Alec never really bought into the whole psychobabble, so the sessions never yielded any real success. He ended up working longer and spent most of his time ignoring the problem, but it only made things worse. Now, he felt he had no choice but to face it. His true resentment, which had lain dormant for so long, was finally going to be acted on.

         So what if that happened a few years ago. So what if she’s been faithful since then, or she says she's been faithful he angrily reflected to himself. She doesn’t love me. She never loved me. She never even said she was sorry. She needs to pay. And there was nothing more his conscience could do, the voice had won.

         Then, a wave of mysterious understanding passed over him. He didn’t need the mask to scare her. Now, he could do it on his own. Reaching up he pulled at the mask, which had become tightly attached, and in one motion tore it off and threw it to the side. Had he taken a moment to look down, he would have seen his own face staring up at him amid a small puddle of blood. That is, if he actually cared anymore. He looked to the door and with one swift kick it was open. More than open, he kicked the door straight off the hinges.

         Sarah never heard a sound before the door splintered right in front of her.

         “What are you trying to do?” she screamed.

         Through sobs of anger now turned to fear, she watched as a demon surged forward into the room. Its body was that of a man, but attached atop its shoulders was a skull bathed in red flame. All of its teeth were pointed like shards of glass and though it had no eyes, there seemed to be a faint glimmer in the back of those lifeless sockets.

         She scrambled underneath the bed, but it was poor protection. The demon tossed it aside with little effort. It stared down at her. Through her blurry, tear-filled eyes, she watched the creature lunge forward to grab her. Although filled with terror, her survival instinct took over. Flight had failed, so she had to fight.

         Grabbing one of her husband’s work boots that only a moment before was resting neatly beside the bed, she swung wildly at the beast. Not expecting resistance, the demon’s attack was stopped short by a blow to the jaw. It staggered backward and tried to regain its balance. Sarah began to use any and every item within reach as a projectile weapon. The other boot, a lamp, a picture off the wall, the little night stand, they were her only arms. Her attack was effective. The creature, reeling, had fallen to one knee from her assault and she knew she had to try and finish it off or at least hurt it enough so she could get away. She grabbed the chair from the computer desk and held it over her head to deliver the final blow.

         The flames, which had at first burned so brightly around its face, had dulled to barely a faint flicker. The creature, looking down to shield its face from Sarah’s view, held out its left hand in a motion to stop.

         “Sarah please don’t”, Alec’s voice whimpered out. The shock of her husband’s voice coming from the beast sent her mind scrambling.

         Could that thing really be Alec, she questioned? Her gaze fell on its outstretched hand. And then she saw the ring it wore, the wedding band that he wore always. He even wore it when they had separated. And in that moment, she knew somehow it had to be Alec.

         That pause was all the time the creature needed. In a flash, it was standing again and even took a moment to enjoy the confused look in the woman’s eyes. Grabbing her by the throat it lifted her off the ground with one arm. The force of the beast’s grip caused Sarah to choke instantly as she lost her grip on the chair. It fell behind her and slammed against the floor.

         Opening wide its jaws, the demon pulled the young woman close and tore into her neck. Blood flowed quickly and the creature drank greedily as crimson sprayed its already blood stained face. The flames surrounding its head were surprisingly cold on Sarah’s flesh and rose higher and higher as it fed. Sarah could feel her strength, her life, and her very soul sinking into blackness.

         “Why?” Sarah whimpered, “Why?”

         The fiend would give no answer. Her struggle nearly destroyed its new existence. It needed her blood to survive, to grow stronger. Without it, the creature knew it would fade into nothingness. And it had not hid in that mask for all those long years just to be foiled by a woman.

         She tried to push away, but her arms could not find the strength. Sarah wanted to cry, but had no more tears left. She did not understand what was happening. Was this really Alec doing this? What had she done to deserve this? Her mind answered with a thought she had been dwelling on for almost 3 years now. She had tried so hard to make amends, to be a better wife. Was this her punishment? It was getting hard for her to reason and the desire to sleep was overpowering. Finally, in anguish, she decided to give in to the desire and began to let herself fade.

         The creature adjusted its maw and burrowed deeper into its prey’s soft flesh. Sarah's vision closed in as if she was looking down an ever-shrinking tunnel. Then it was black.

         The demon dropped the lifeless body to the ground; flesh still trapped between razor sharp teeth.

         “Have you satisfied the thirst?” a voice asked from behind him.

         “Yes” it replied in a voice part whisper and part echo, “I had forgotten how sweet and pure the taste of life was.”

         It turned to the grinning old Indian standing in the shattered doorway. In his hand, he held the mask with an uncanny resemblance of Alec.

         “I knew his anger would bring you to the surface. His hate for that which he should have loved has set you free my brother. Now quickly. Put this on, it will disguise you,” commanded the old brave as he tossed the mask.

         The demon caught and then stared at it, looking again to the elderly man.

         “Don’t worry, he’s gone, destroyed in the process. He’s been dead for quite sometime anyway. Now hurry and put it on. I still need to feed and the night is getting short.” With that the old man disappeared from the doorway.

         The evil spirit donned the mask and Alec’s form returned. The demon looked down at his host’s former wife lying in a pile of splinters and blood. The expression of sorrow was frozen on her face.

         “She,” it vowed, “will be the first of many.”