The Council of Ten

Chapter 1 - Being Watched (The Memoirs of Paolo Bianchi)

Author's Note: Hello, my dear reader, I am overjoyed you have made it here, to my story! Venice, right now, is one of my favourite places. I've visited once, but long to go back again as it really made an impression on me. Oh, and, the story doesn't take place in a particular time period so bare with me while you learn how it all works (sort of past-like but with twists).

And with that, let us get on:)

Dedication: For Venice. You caught my attention quite some time before I managed to visit you. When I finally came around and saw your canals, your masks, narrow streets and ice-cream...I loved you even more than I could have hoped. You're beautifuland I hope my story does you justice. 

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Chapter1 - Being Watched (The Memoirs of Paolo Bianchi)

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We wear the mask that grins and lies,

It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,-

This debt we pay to human guile;

With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,

And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,

In counting all our tears and sighs?

Nay, let them only see us, while

We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries

To thee from tortured souls arise.

We sing, but oh the clay is vile

Beneath our feet, and long the mile;

But let the world dream otherwise,

We wear the mask!

~ Paul Laurence Dunbar

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The fear has resided dormant in my heart but now it awakens with every beat. With every pulse, the fear comes crawling further out. My dear reader, I am afraid like I have never been before. Bound to my chair with invisible chains, I can do nothing with my remaining hours but write about my sorry existence. I suppose I have always been nervous, a little scared. I’ve anticipated this moment for a while. But good heavens, I never imagined this! They stand there, looking over my shoulder in the hours of darkness. Then, at midnight, they make a grab for me, never quite reaching me but every night their arms get closer. Just a little nearer. They can’t have me yet. No, not yet. I can hold out a little longer. But how long? Days? Weeks? Perhaps only hours.

Dread collects in the pit of my stomach, overflowing when my clock chimes twelve and then...nothing. They are a little too far once more. But it’s only a fragile thread of time keeping them from me. Even now, I can feel their beady eyes behind their masks watching me. Waiting. I daren’t turn to face them, to see the white glowing through the black. To see eyes and folded arms and...clocks. One of them has a pocket watch. All the blasted thing does is tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. It sets my nerves on edge.

There is mainly silence in my home now, if I can still call it that. This place is more like my prison, a cell with torturous sounds, even though the mere ticking of a clock and the tapping of my typewriter keys are the only things that meet my ears. These small sounds are driving me mad. Sometimes I hear one of them cough or sigh.

Them.

I shudder at the word, let alone the sight. They need me, but I won’t give in. I’m the only one of them who is striving for the safety of Venice. Yes, I may be counted as one of them, I may be their only missing piece. But I no longer wish to play their games, to take part in the things they do. No. I’m rebelling against them for the people in the city. For the people on the outside. The people with lives...but I no longer have a life.

No, not me.

I am lost. A lost soul with no other purpose than to be used one last time and then disposed of. I don’t deny that my very existence is for an act of cruelty. I don’t deny it and I accept my fate...that doesn’t mean I can’t postpone it a little. Or a lot. Whichever works out better for me.

I wore their mask for so long, I became it. I began to believe I was it. A mask can do that to you. Masks are dangerous. When I finally pried the thing off my face and stared daylight in the eyes I realised it was far too late. I was done for. Venice was dying. So I took to putting on my other mask. A mask that grinned and lied, that hid my cheeks and shaded my eyes. No one glimpsed the pain beneath. No one thought to look behind...to see the silent tears I cried.

Now I’m paying for my mistake. Venice is paying for my mistake. I sigh to myself as I fall asleep at night and let the tears fall freely. Why wear the mask now? Why wear it when I am bound in my own home? Perhaps I could have put this right if I’d acted sooner. But if I’d acted...who’s to say everything would have gone to plan? Most likely, I’d have been killed. There’s no way of knowing what I should have done, what would have been better. But all I know is that now, I must do this. I must not succumb to their ways once again.

Stay strong, my dear reader. Never let the masks take you, kill you.

Your humble servant,

Paolo Bianchi

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Author’s Note: Well, this was rather short. It doesn’t tell you much, but it will mean more later. Perhaps it was a little wordy? I don’t know. But I hope you liked it, I hope you want to read more. Thank you for reading and comments are much appreciated!