Horror 100 Volume 2

Mask

The great actor left the stage. By then his face expressed only fatigue, tiredness caused by years of constant struggle. Struggle for looks and glances of audience admiring his every gesture, every move, expressions... him as a whole.

He crossed bright corridor and opened the door to the dressing room. He heard quiet, uncertain steps behind his back. He turned around and saw the wardrobe assistant holding a bunch of white roses in her hand. Smile on the woman's face reflected a girlish awe.

- I was watching you from behind the wings. The whole play. It was really exquisite, as if...

This break in her statement brought a new wave of compliments for her tongue. Gasping she added:

- ...as if you were acting pure life. An ordinary one that anyone could live.

Here you are. This is for you.

A tired smile turned out to be the only acknowledgement from the grey-haired senior. He closed the door without saying a word and threw the flowers into a corner leaving his interlocutor in the state of stupefaction. He turned on the light and sat in front of the mirror, looking into it as if he wished to notice a different world in its reflection.

He placed his hands on his face and stroked his wrinkles. He felt old. He felt his time passing every second and that he was failing to locate any last ditch to elevate himself from this abyss. What awaited for him next? What new roles for which he could not prepare?

He was woken from his reverie by a quiet laughter coming from behind the doorstep. The Actor turned around trying to locate mysterious joker, but the light from the corridor effectively blocked his attempts.

He got up and approached the slightly opened door. There was nobody outside but he noticed presence of a mysterious package. It lacked any stamps or address, yet he concluded that it must have been addressed to him. Ultimately the package ended up at the door of his dressing room. He unwrapped it and noticed an unusual content: three masks – the type worn in the past by ancient actors. They represented different moods of life imitators.

He decided to include them in his collection of theatrical peculiarities and since then he did not part them. He was wearing them not only on stage but also during press interviews, meetings with directors... whose number was much higher now than during years of his splendour. He became a sensation causing unhealthy emotions at times. Now he could act as much as he wanted to and wherever he desired without having to take into consideration any remarks regarding his age and talent.

With time voices of anxiety began to be heard if perhaps a mistake had been made regarding his person. For his acting left a lot to be desired along with his behaviour away from the stage. This reached a point when his fetish became so excessive that the artist did not leave aside his appropriated faces even for a while. People began to avoid him and the press ceased to promote his person any longer and his actor friends refrained from comment.

Thus one evening he decided to make the following performance his last. He wanted to leave in a big way: with flowers, a full house and a burst of applause. He wanted to be well remembered before he would join the canon of greatest theatrical freaks.

An hour before the show a young journalist sneaked into his dressing room looking for an occasion to take the most sensational of all extraordinary photos of the actor's persona – his real face. Hidden in a wardrobe he was waiting for the old man to appear. He was wondering how true was the gossip concerning the actor created by his colleagues and how much of it belonged to their imagination.

Minutes passed and the actor did not turn up. Eventually, impatient he left his hiding place. Apparently he must have been misled, received some false information or...

He moved close to the mirror where all the artist's masks were reflected. He picked up one of them and looked inside.

The Comedy mask hid inside something more than a piece of plastic. There were streaks of blood on the sides where the material touches ears and cheeks. The remaining two masks of Melancholy and Tragedy had similar features. Together they formed quite a gruesome riddle unrevealed by anyone yet.

Agitated by taking photos the boy failed to hear the door opening behind his back. Only the touch of a cold, bony hand on his shoulder suddenly woke him from trance.

He did not see the Actor behind him, however. What was at the doorstep personified rather an affluently decorated dummy possessing only some outlines of a human silhouette. And it was missing a face. But this bizarre form spoke with a familiar voice.

- You have uncovered me...now my secret is gone – he pointed at the mask held in the reporter's trembling hand.

– These form my life now. Sometimes possessing some of them is quite worthy to be able to remember what's most important. To stay in touch with one's humanness. Now, forgive me but I must return there and act life as I have been doing for a long time...since ever...

The reporter's horror increased the moment a steel blade appeared suddenly by his cheek.

Apparently the creature did not intend to let his secret get revealed. Stiff movements of the monster began to amuse the boy unwittingly and he did not hide his mirth.

You don't exist...I have only dreamt you!

I am sorry but I must disappoint you...

No one from the audience applauding first acts of „Faust" heard the young hack's screams while the knife's blade was sinking in his eye. Each time the Actor appeared on stage was followed by screams of near ecstasy as the parts he played were delightful.

As if he were acting life. For the next and simultaneously the last time.

The reporter's body was never recovered as well as none of the masks. Those who were scrupulous noted, however, an excellent make-up in the scene of the Actor's rejuvenation, previously unknown in the play's script. Although at the press conference the Actor once again appeared wearing a mask.

This time it was his own face not too accurately cast in wax.

For some a mask means life while for others it's an alternative.

Worse if the mask is marked with death.