Who was the Masked man?

Dinner in Prison

I didn't reply.
He turned and sat against the wall, staring at the orange sky, when I noticed a shining droplet under his eyelid. His strong arms made him look like an assassin or a warrior. Maybe that was the reason I was interested in knowing his past. He was so much like me. His black hair was short and trimmed, but his face was dusty like he hadn't touched water against it for several days.
" My name is Chris Loreins, " I said, just to distract him.
" I feel hungry, " Brandon ignored.
" Me too. "
" Dinner would be served at nightfall, " he told me in almost a whisper.
" Does it ever go dark, this place? " I asked, " it's always the evening sky here. I worked for twenty-four hours, but there wasn't any change in the weather. "
" Time and weather work differently here, " he said, picking up his Sorrowbender and mingling his fingers with it, " we work for 24 hours, 30 times. And then we get to have food once. " His deep purple eyes settled on me.
" The heck! " I raised my brows, " that's like having food once every month! How do you stay hungry for so long? "
He looked at me simply and smiled. " We can't die out of hunger, can we? "
We both laughed.
Brandon hadn't eaten anything in a month. I imagined how worse could it be to feel hungry all the time. I was in the army, and I had been trained for such harsh situations, but the prisoners here had learned it the hard way.
When it was finally dark, a Burnthound opened the gate of our cellar with the tiny bronze key and walked away carelessly. I followed Brandon out to have dinner at the stony arena.
It was the first time I saw all the prisoners together. They were dressed in muddy, rugged clothes. Probably the ones that they wore during their death, while life was snatched away from them and they landed up here. The relaxing part was that all the prisoners seemed to be humans. Earthly. And that reduced my sense of fear for the Burnthounds.
It was a huge arena, we stood in a queue of several hundred prisoners who were waiting for their turn to get food from the table like a buffet party. Brandon stood before me. On his turn, he picked up a weak paper bowl from the pitch-black table and stepped forward. There was a mount of bread thrown carelessly on the table. Some sort of green sauce, cooked potatoes, and beans followed.
One last eatable on the table was a solid chunk of sugar that Brandon didn't take, but I did, out of curiosity. We both had the food in our bowls and we went towards the center of the arena where the prisoners now sat in rows and had their food hungrily, avoiding all their manners. Slopping noises could be heard over their talks. I thought we too would have to find a spot and sit, but Brandon walked further. 
" Hey, shouldn't we sit down somewhere? " I asked him, following closely.
" Just do what I say, " he murmured. We were heading back towards our cellar when a Burnthound interrupted our path with his sword held firmly in his strong grasp. The blade was just a centimeter away from Brandon's neck.
" Get back there and eat, " he ordered.
" We will eat in our cellar, " Brandon said in a hurry without facing him.
" Your wish, scoundrel! " he snapped and walked away.
Brandon quickened his pace as we got closer to our cellar, when we stood in front of it, he didn't go inside. I stopped after him, sensing he was up to something. He looked around to make sure we were alone, then he looked at me and said urgently, " Run "
He dashed past the cellars, holding his bowl tightly. I didn't know what to do, but he was the only one I could trust in this godforsaken place, so I ran after him.
We ran for a couple hundred yards and got behind the cellars. I saw something before my eyes that stopped me dead in my tracks.
Before us stood the woods of the afterlife. The trees, silver and shining in the moonlight. They were ten times thicker than what we usually find on Earth. The branches and leaves were all silver, and it gave me an eerie feeling. My stomach gave a slight lurch, and my mouth dropped open in awe. It was a beautiful sight, yet it gave me a feeling that said, " Don't go in there, Chris! "
Brandon turned around and motioned for me to follow quickly. I ran after him and we neared the woods. The trees seemed to touch the dark sky, no matter how much I craned my neck, I couldn't see anywhere near their tops. They were as tall as the magical plant in Jack and the Beanstalk.
The woods though shined brightly, there was a sudden dullness and darkness in there. Brandon ran carelessly through the woods as if he came here usually and knew this place well, but I was so sure that we should not have been there.
What if the Burnthounds noticed we were missing?
What will happen then?
I hadn't forgotten the pain in my stomach yet.
Brandon crouched behind a tree and put a finger to his lips. I quietly sat beside him.
" Why are you late? " someone whispered from the tree on our right.