Velvet Harmony
The Man In The Mask
Nothing was worse than what Jackson Rafton had seen today. Nothing, ever. I need to slow down, he thought. He gathered his thoughts and replayed the scene in his head-
He was walking down the street past midnight with his friend Michael. There was an abandoned city they had planned on visiting, and they were going to do it that night. Jackson and Michael finally made it to the city, and they just waltzed through the streets at first. After about an hour in the eerie, dimly lit streets, they decided to go into one of the houses. The first three houses were locked tight, no way in. But at the third house, the door opened easily. They walked inside the dark house, and switched on the lights. They lit poorly. “This place looks like it’s been through hell, but it also looks occupied,” Jackson said. Michael shrugged, and said “Oh, well. I brought my gun. You shoulda brought yours, just in case.” Jackson scoffed, and looked at the table. “Dear Christ,” he said. There was a full bowl of freshly made Ravioli on the table. “Holy crap, there’s someone in the house!” Michael looked at the table, then at the stairs. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. Jackson quickly ran to the door, and left the house with Michael. Their jog went to a run as they sprinted their way out of the city. Once they were at least 100 yards from the city limits, they saw a rather disturbing sight; there was a group of masked men lined up in front of the road. Jackson skidded to a stop and fell over. Then, as he started to get up, a man in a mask came up behind him, and grabbed him from behind, keeping a knife to his neck. Jackson shrieked, and one of the other men grabbed Michael and did the same. Another large man in a mask similar to the rest, probably the leader, inspected them both. After a few moments of grim silence, the man spoke. “Which one do you think we should kill?” he asked. Jackson objected. “Please! Please don’t kill us! I don’t wanna die!” The man scoffed. “I thought you were less cowardly, Jackson Rafton,” he said. Jackson’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s right, Jack. I’ve been watching you for a long time. I know who you are, and I know your buddy Mike, too.” He looked around. “Isn’t that right, boys?” The other men whooped and cheered. Jackson coughed on his own spit as he tried to speak. The man laughed an eerie laugh, and the atmosphere got even more tense. Jackson cringed, and said, “Please, sir. We won’t come back. I promise.” The man laughed again, and said, “God, you’re relentless. I’ll tell you what. I’ll let one of you go. One. That’s it. The other can get his throat slit.” Jackson looked at Michael, who had tears running down his face, but not quite sobbing. He said one sentence that changed Jackson’s whole life: “Let them take me.” Jackson shrieked “NO!” but it was too late. The large man said, “Let there be blood!” The man holding Michael put the knife a little further along the side of Michael’s throat, then pulled back. Almost instantly, the blood erupted from his throat, all over the side of Jackson’s face. Blood spurted from his mouth, and he made a terrible gurgling noise. After about ten or twenty seconds, he stopped moving. The man holding Jackson let go, and disappeared into the dark. So did the others. Jackson crawled his way over to Michael and cried his heart out…
