The Mask

Chapter 7 - The Taste of Blood

Ash's POV

I woke up with a pounding headache. I slowly opened my eyes, only to be greeted by the deep blue sky with the moon shining brightly against the night. I internally groaned, what the hell happened? Why do I feel like I had a fight with someone else and got beaten up? My body also ached, making it hard to move around.

I checked the clock on the dresser at my right and saw that it was 11:35p.m.

What happened?

I got out of bed, and realized that I was staying at the same room I was in, the one that suits 10-year olds. I shook my head, trying to remove the thoughts about me gagging at seeing so much pink, but failed to, for I was met with a really bad headache. Damn it, I forgot I had a headache.

I walked to switch the lights on, and walked to the full-length mirror just beside the bed. Wow, my hair was such a mess. My used to be wavy black hair with red highlights are now so frizzy. I patted my hair with my hands, trying to fix it. But while I was trying to fix my hair, I noticed a black box from the reflection on the mirror. What was that?

Realization struck me and my eyes widened as I remember everything that has happened. Me being the supposed chosen one and me fainting.

Wait, aren't people who ain't the chosen one die when they touch the mask?

Well I touched the mask and nothing happened, then I suddenly fainted. But I still lived. So does that mean I'm still the chosen one?

Excitement surged throughout my body since I really wanted to be the chosen one.

I quickly went across the room to get the box and placed it in the bed. I looked at it, tracing my hand in the lock before opening it. And there it was, the mask.

I suddenly wanted to touch it, to see if I was really the chosen one. But I fainted the last time I touched it, will it happen again?

I ended up extending my hand to touch the mask and when I was a centimeter away from touching it, I would pull it back, scared of what would happen.

Finally, after what seems like 10 minutes of pulling my arm back and forth, I mustered up all the courage I had and touched the damn mask.

I touched it and again, nothing happened! I was extremely happy since I really am the chosen one after all! I started tracing my fingers along the mask, feeling the delicate object against my skin, admiring its beauty and power.

I then wanted to wear it, to see how I would look like with it my face.

I got out of bed and walked to the mirror. I held the mask in my hands and slowly brought it up to my face.

I took a deep breath, telling myself that it would mean no big deal when I get to wear it. I am the chosen one after all.

The mask was so close to my face, only a few centimeters away. I can already feel the power radiating on the mask and I can't help but feel even more excited on what I am going to become once I wear it.

And then...

I wore it.

.

.

.

And damn do I look good.

My deep blue oceanic eyes are shining even brighter with this mask. I look like a fighter, a strong confident woman, someone people cannot mess with.

The mask fit perfectly on my heart-shaped face, making it look really good on me.

But I can't help but wonder on why I can't feel anything special or magical?