Experiment of Madness

33-Devil's night:Thrill of the Open Road-Aerra

I swallow, feeling a knot in my throat, the realization of being caught hitting me hard. My mind races, wondering how he even recognized me beneath my disguise. I stare at him, my anxiety growing.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asks, his voice laced with surprise and mild anger.

Before I can even attempt to answer his question, Dag sighs, concern creeping into his expression. "Are you hurt?" He asks, his tone softer, noticing any hints of injury on my body.

I shake my head, my lips pursing as a sign that I'm not hurt. My eyes meet his, and I remain silent, wondering if he'll scold or interrogate me.

"Why are you here, Aerra?" His voice carries a mix of annoyance and concern, his eyes holding mine intently, waiting for an explanation.

The faint music still continues in the background, the melody and rhythm of the Devils' Night celebration providing a muffled soundtrack to our interaction.

I gather my thoughts and answer, "I...I was just curious. I wanted to see how the event was," my voice was a bit shaky, the words flowing out as I revealed my motivation, curiosity behind my presence here.

Dag raises a valid point, his words bringing up the risks and possibilities. "What if someone sees you? What if someone tells the doctors from the hospital?" He asks, his voice tinged with worry.

I respond, trying to reassure him. "No one will recognize me, I'm wearing over-sized clothes and a helmet, I have a disguise on," my voice carries a hint of confidence in my attempt to ease his concerns.
Dag is not fully convinced, his worry not completely assuaged. "Even though you can't be here," he asserts, his voice stern.
"How did you even recognize me?" I echo, genuinely curious about how he saw through my disguise.

"I knew it was you. I just knew it," he admits, his voice containing a mix of confusion and certainty. He seems unable to pinpoint exactly how he was able to recognize me.

Confusion etched on his face, he continues, "Something about the way you moved...I'm not sure how I knew it was you." His words convey his bafflement about his ability to perceive my presence, despite my attempt to blend in.

I swallow, a knot forming in my throat as the conversation unfolds. His answer adds to my surprise his ability to recognize me despite my disguise, both baffling and unsettling.

"You're not supposed to be here, you understand that, right?" His voice becomes more assertive, his concern and annoyance evident in his tone.
I let out a sigh, "I know," I acknowledge, my voice tinged with a hint of guilt.

Dag takes a step closer, his proximity closing the distance between us. His voice is softer, but his tone remains firm. "You know, but you still came," he points out, his expression a mix of frustration and worry.

I simply acknowledge, "I did," my voice meek, confirming that I came despite knowing I was not supposed to.

He sighs and holds the orange mask in his hand, visibly frustrated and conflicted by my presence here.

I question, eyeing the orange mask in his hand, "Is that yours?" His silence prompts me to ask, uncertainty filling my voice.
I take the orange mask from his hand, examining it closely, curiosity taking hold as I examine the details and try to understand its significance.

My eyes light up as I hold and examine the orange mask. "Wow,"

I observe the design, noticing the two orange neon Xs where the eyes would be and the intricately stitched, wide smile, a blend of fear-inducing and fascinating elements.

"It's mine," he confirms.
He questions further, "Where did you get the motorcycle? How do you know how to ride?"
I admit, a hint of guilt in my voice, "I stole it," my confession adding a touch of shame to the moment. "I don't really know how," I continue, "I just figured it out. That's why I ended up falling,"