Masks...Chapter One

It wasn’t that he really listened to the voices in his head, or that he even heard them at all. It was just a sort of company for this lonely man. It wasn’t that he was crazy. He just liked to pretend he was. Just like when he would sit on the corner of Park Street and Forest Boulevard, on Tuesday nights, and beg for money in his worn out clothes, so he could buy a cup of coffee. It wasn’t that he liked coffee, or that he needed other people’s money to buy it. It was just a game he liked to play, a mask he loved to wear, one of his many characters.

 

Bob walked down the hallway of the run down apartment building, whistling the tune to “I Love Lucy” as he went. The hallway was lit by the eerie glow of fluorescent lights. One, of which, was flickering. He’d have to talk to the owner about that. Bob stopped in front of the door, which had crooked, brass numbers, which read thirteen, on it. He chuckled to himself, amused by the irony of his room number, as he placed the stubborn key in the lock and turned the knob. The odious smell of rotting food and dirty laundry filled his nostrils. He smiled at the welcoming.

 

He walked down the short hallway to what could be called his living room, which was adjoined by a small kitchen on the left, which held moldy bread on the countertop. Bob walked into the middle of his living room, which held a metal chair in the middle. Surrounding the chair were several stacks of horror books and mystery magazines. All placed neatly from Z to A…just how he liked them. He smiled at his companions, his children…all young, all immature, in his eyes. Beautifully written by some of the greatest authors of all time, these books were all missing something. The characters never seemed to measure up to the plot. What if, just what if, the main character in a mystery book was more complicated than anyone ever imagined? So complicated, in fact, that even the most brilliant mind could not unravel the book by reading its first page. This was Bob’s dream…his destiny. Not only write the most interesting, complicated and horrific character…but to become this character. A character the world would never forget, but hate to remember.

by Burning Rain