Story cover for The Shape// h.s. by krispypeachez
The Shape// h.s.
  • WpView
    Reads 41
  • WpVote
    Votes 8
  • WpPart
    Parts 3
  • WpHistory
    Time 12m
  • WpView
    Reads 41
  • WpVote
    Votes 8
  • WpPart
    Parts 3
  • WpHistory
    Time 12m
Ongoing, First published Sep 22, 2022
I could feel something watching me, it was dark out except for the street lights. I turned around to be faced by a tall man, his body adorned in a dark jumpsuit. The light lit up his face, which was covered by a white mask.

My heart began to race, it was the shape.

*intended for mature readers*
All Rights Reserved
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I sat shaking in the cold, glass box I have spent most my life in. As a child, I would be thrown in here whenever I disobeyed orders or whenever I complained of my head throbbing like the sound of a hammer smashing a wall. As I grew up, I spent more and more time in here learning the lessons - that were close to impossible to figure out - that would cause the walls to dissolve and set myself free. "Maybe if I help you learn your lesson, you can join me at the dance?" He calls out of the darkness once again, my body growing in anticipation to see his face but still he remained hidden. "You might be here for some time then." I sighed and rubbed my arms with a chill, catching some of my wounds that were still healing. I had the urge to scratch at my skin again but I held myself back. "Is that a yes to the dance?" He laughed causing me to laugh again, I took a step back from the glass and into the bright light of the box, that didn't seem to make a difference to the outside. "Well, I am dressed for it and you would be helping me....how could I say no?" I asked rhetorically and I felt a brief movement from behind my see through prison. "Shall I help you learn your lesson then?" A playful tone echoed out towards me and I tilted my head, holding back a smile. I nodded, I had guessed he could see me and by the small sigh of content I had been correct. "Or I could do this?" Before my eyes had caught up to the shift in the dust particles, a man stood behind the glass, now clearly visible to me. His dark hair fell over his eyes, high cheekbones pushed his eyes into slits as he smiled at me and not a flaw on his skin. Dressed in a black suit and tie with a grey shirt, his finger reached up to the glass. He touched it for half a second and it dissolved beneath his pressure and my eyes widened in shock. "Now may I escort you to the dance."
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