Masks of Lies

Mask Off

I race through the misty cold alleyway. My lungs burn as if Hades came and grabbed my heart in his long talons. My legs feel like rubber, unable to control. I start to see sparks of fire crowding my darkening vision. I attempt to swallow the remaining saliva to wet my dry scratchy throat.

"There's the little bitch!" a stern voice calls from behind me.

I glance back to see three dark hooded figures leaping across the rooftops while five more chase me on the cobblestone streets. I turn a corner in hopes I could lose them through the alley tunnels, at least until he could find me. My bare feet land in a puddle of water soaking the edges of my pants and ankles. I grab a nearby stack of baskets and grunt from the effort as I throw them behind me. I hear a hard thump and gasp of pain as two of the five hooded figures tumble of the fallen baskets. I chuckle with laughter with the smallest amount of breath I could spare. I quickly turn a corner and sprint past the hissing cats. My feet slam into the ground as I gasp in despair.

"Fuck!" I whisper loudly.

Standing before me in a tall boarded-up brick building, blocking my way to the other side. I leap on top of a garbage dump straining my arms to reach the nearest ledge. My finger fumble against the wet building as I struggle for a handhold. Cursing vividly I pivot around in hopes of sneaking out before the hooded figures have a chance at grabbing me. I race forward before being shoved roughly to the ground. Stone and pebbles bite at my palms and knees as I land on the wet ground.

"Get up little fox. We have no time for your shitty games." A deep voice calls from above.

I glance back up at the man that had pushed me down moments earlier. A dark deep blue hood shadows his face. An equally dark mask covers up to his nose so the only skin showing is the small sliver of eyes and bridge of his nose. His eye blazed like an untamed fire, ready to escape.

His eyes were red.

His eyes shone red with pecks of metallic strands swarming around his retina.

I gasped.

He was of a royal heir.

Only ones of royal blood would be granted the devil's eye.

The red-eye.

The cursed eye.

The sons of the kings of each nation would cast a spell on the newborns to mark their rights and status. The eyes would change to the regular color once the heir found an acceptable lover. The king or wizard who put the spell on the next heir had a vision on his death day on who the heir's love truly is.

Many have tried to return the heir's eyes to normal, many have failed. I turn my attention back to him.

"Who the fuck are you?" I mumble.

He howls a laugh and shoves his boot into my rib cage forcefully. He squats down, grabs me by the hair, and yanks my eyes to meet his. I force down the tears accumulating in my eyes.

I will not let them see me cry. They are not worthy of my tears.

"Well isn't the little fox curious?" he jokes.

He is not one of my people.

His accent gives it away.

Thick and rich.

Pronouncing every letter with careful diligence, as if my language is not his native tongue.

He grabs my chin forcefully and rips the sleeve of my tunic.

"Ever heard of the phrase 'curiosity killed the cat'? I hear it is very common in these parts," he shoves his iron fist into my face.

I can feel the blood rushing to my nose. I lick my upper lip and taste copper. I feel dizzy now, I am losing major dosages of blood from my system.

Another hooded figure jumps from the top of a nearby rooftop.

"What should we do with this one mate?" the voice mocks.

I look at you and see once again those damn red eyes. His hand rests on a gold-handled dagger pinned on his right hip.

My eyes glint in anger as I recognize the type of decoration and material used to make his dagger. That was the work of one man. Only one could tame metal like it was a ferocious beast and make beautiful pieces of art. I was granted one similar. I curse myself for not bringing it along with me. The man turned his attention to me smiling wickedly.

"Ah. Our little fox wants to wrestle eh?" he hisses. "Well let her go mates. Don't want m'lady to be all caught up in our traps without a fight, would we?"

No one dares to move.

"Logan let her go."

The man, Logan, release his iron grip on my neck and shoved me to the feet of the new arrival. I shakily stand up, swaying with every heartbeat. One of my eyes is blocked by the blood that ran from a long cut above my eye. I force all pain to the back of my mind and get into a defensive stance.

They all howl with laughter.

"Oh lookie here boys," Logan cries. "Little fox thinks she can take on Gold!"

The man called Gold grabs the golden dagger from his pocket. The dangerous glint of light reflects off the blade. Dangerous and ready. His eyes mirror the knife with the eternal fire.

He circles me, eyeing me up and down.

I must look like shit.

The tunic that was once the color of freshly fallen snow was now a mix of mud brown, blood red, and clinging to my sweaty body. My once long skirt was cut horribly in half, making it ride up my long legs. My legs and arms were badly scarred from previous attempts to escape this town. New fresh whip marks noticeable through the pouring rain.

He removes his hood.

I gasp.

It can't be him.

No.

He died.

I saw it with my own eyes.

No one can survive that jump.

He grins wickedly.

His teeth an ugly shade of red, the same shade they were 10 years ago.

"Been a while, Bree," he laughs.

I fall to my knees in shock.

"How?" I mumbled. "I watched you die."

He leans beside me. His arm softly wrapped around my shoulder. He smiles as lifts my eyes to meet his red demon eyes, he leans in close and forcefully plants his dagger into my rib cage. I let out a gasp of pain and shock. He yanks the dagger from my ribs and replants it in my arm, my leg, and with the finishing touch marks me. He implants his initials in the palm of my hand. GW. I whimper in pain. Tears pouring out of my eyes like a river. I fall to my side, barely able to hold on to life.

"The dead king walks once again," he whispers in my ear. "And soon, I will be joined by my beautiful queen."

"Gold! Run!" Logan calls.

Gold looks up with fear on his face. He turns his attention back to me. He shoves his boot to my ribs. I cry out in pain. Unknown voices echo through the alley.

"See you in my kingdom soon my love." he plants a peck on my head before he bounds off into the night.

"Over here!" a voice calls "Shit it's a girl. Hurry up and get the wagon ready, mama will know what to do with her."

"I can't get it through, the opening is too small for Mary Ann to get through."

"Okay, I'll get her, just be ready to help."

Warm calloused hands slipped under the small of my back. I hear a heave of effort as I am lifted on a cart. I squint up and see, a boy. About my age. His lucid cerulean eyes shine in the night against his pale skin. His dark curly brown mop is wet and dripping into his eyes. He gives me a slight smile as he strips off his jacket. He lays the jacket on top of me. It smells of iron and rainwater. I let myself sink into his warmth.

"I got you m'lady." he quietly says.

Then the world goes black.