UnMasked

Chapter 1 Prologue

"Lydia"

A deep voice called out, making Lydia turn to look. "May I ask where you were before the game?"

"A game?" she thought, confused, her mind racing to make sense of the question.

The voice answered her thoughts. "...I take it you don't remember?"

She shook her head, a shadow of doubt crossing her face.

"But you remember the dream, correct?"

Lydia nodded slowly, reassuring herself as she began to explain in detail.

---

Dreamscape

"Wake up..."

"Wake up..."

"Wake up... NOW!"

Lydia jolted awake, gasping for breath as if something had been chasing her. The room was small, its walls a grimy shade of white. She lay on an old, child-sized bed, covered with pale sheets and pillows. Even her own clothes—a plain white nightgown—seemed to blend into the dismal surroundings.

"Where am I?" she whispered, pushing herself up from the bed. There were no doors, no windows—no way out. As she paced the room, trying to think of an escape, a sudden thud behind her made her freeze. 

She turned, searching for the source of the noise. But nothing was there. Her eyes finally landed on a large book lying at her feet.

"A book?" she thought, bending to pick it up. The book was massive, almost as large as her head, with a dark, bluish cover adorned with silver details. Despite its size, it felt oddly light in her small hands. It was locked, a strange oval-shaped keyhole staring up at her from the center of the cover.

Frustrated, Lydia looked around for a key but found none. With a sigh, she returned to the bed and sat down, resting the book on her lap. Her fingers traced the outline of the keyhole as if expecting it to give up its secrets under her touch.

'Whose book is this?' she wondered, her mind foggy with curiosity. But then something shifted. She blinked and gasped—the keyhole had transformed into a grotesque eye with a purple pupil, staring back at her.

Startled, Lydia yelped and hurled the book across the room. It landed with a dull thud on the floor, but when she looked again, it was gone.

"Am I imagining things?" she murmured, her thoughts spinning in confusion. She stepped forward cautiously, scanning the floor for any sign of the book, but her gaze shifted to the bed. Something—or someone—was sitting there.

The light in the room had dimmed, casting long shadows that obscured the figure. Its long legs were crossed, one hand resting casually on the bed... holding the book. 

Before Lydia could react, the figure's other hand reached toward her, brushing against her face. Her vision faded to black.

"And that's it," Lydia finished her story, her voice trembling slightly. "When I woke up, I was near a tree in the middle of the woods, and—"

"Silver and the others found you," the deep voice interrupted.

Lydia nodded. "Yes, Mr. Hans."

Hans—a living shadow on the wall—shifted slightly, patting Lydia's shadowed head. "We'll get to the bottom of this strange dream of yours, Lydia."