The Masquerade

by Rae, Alexa

  "You need something to eat, man." Jesse had said, holding his bass guitar.

  "More like someone." Cam sneered.

  I shook my head. "I'm fine. I'll get someone after."

  "No, you need to eat before." Jesse argued. "Your face is white."

  "We don't have time. I'll be fine." PJ shot me a doubtful look that I ignored.

  Our manager rushed into the room before any of them could protest. "Get on stage now. The fans are getting restless."

  PJ slipped past him, a smirk on his face. He knew what was going to happen, but as usual, he kept his mouth shut. Jesse's eyes narrowed when he walked by me with his guitar in his hands

  "Don't over do it tonight."

  "Ha" Cam laughed obnoxiously.

  I punched him in the shoulder and took the microphone our manager handed me. I followed Cam out of the door with Max behind me. Max's apprehension was evident in his eyes. I shot him a look over my shoulder that told him I was fine.

  The entire front row was watching me, some in fear, others eyes were glazed with distant confusion. I grinned at them and I heard the fragile gasp of a small girl to the left of me. My eyes found her immediately. Her eyes grew larger as I pinned her down with my gaze, my wicked smile still in tact. The screams and chanting from the audience continued, but a shrill of a cry shot from the first couple rows. I stood up, laughing as I straightened. More fans grew frightened of me. I had shed my mask. They saw me for the monster I am.

  A hand gripped my forearm. I turned to see Jesse. He got one glimpse of my face, turned me so that my back was facing the audience, and pulled me away from the edge. His movements were swift and faster than any human's ability. Max and Cam stopped playing, their eyes wide as they watched Jesse pull me off stage.

  When I was no longer visible to the audience, Jesse shoved me. I was airborne for a split second before my back slammed into the drywall. Jesse's eyes snapped to the side to make sure none of the stage crew had witnessed. Our manager, Allan stood by the big black boxes where we stored our equipment. His eyes found me first. They grew wide, before he turned his back as though he hadn't seen.

  "Shows over." Jesse barked at him.

  Alan nodded once to him, without looking at me, and ran around to the other side of the stage. Jesse pulled the guitar strap from around his neck and leaned it against the wall. He moved away from the opening on the stage, his eyes on me.

  Reality crashed around me as the adrenaline slowly seeped out of my system. My breathing slowed, my back still against the wall, watching my best friend. We shared a moment of silence before Cam and Max rushed off stage. They finished the song without either of us before they fled. Max glared at me. Cam ran past me, through the backstage door faster than the human eye could follow.

  "What the hell is wrong with you?" Max fumed.

  I stared at him, my breathing becoming even again. The backstage door opened and the street crew, who set up our equipment, flooded into the room. I turned my face as a few of them came to retrieve the guitar Jesse set down and the one Max still held. They got what they needed and moved away, barely paying much attention to us. They knew the rules and they didn't ask questions.

  Jesse finally moved, gripped my arm again, and shoved me to the back door. On our way out, the long horizontal mirror, nailed to the wall, caught my reflection. I turned to find the monster a handful of my fans were exposed to. My eyes were black. A demonic glow radiated from my orbs that stood out against my ghostly pale skin. Short, red, jagged veins formed underneath my eyes. The corner of my mouth ripped open, pink flesh oozing from beneath the cut. Blood from the wound, trickled over my jaw and slid down my neck. I didn't look as bad as I could have, but it wasn't a human appearance.

  Jesse forced me out the back door. I stumbled onto the gravel, my mind clouded with incoherent thoughts revolving around one thing, flesh. Saliva pooled in my mouth at the thought of sinking my teeth into the soft skin of a young girl's jugular. Hell, the sex didn't matter. I would have eaten half of a male's face off.

  "Calm down, Ben." I heard Jesse's voice say, somewhere around me, but I couldn't focus on it. I couldn't care less about what he had to say. I was fucking hungry.

  The small sound of a whimpering girl's voice, struck my senses. My head whipped to the side. Cam appeared from one of the back streets behind the venue, his arm wound tightly around a girl's waist as he forced her to move with him. She had a soft face, her auburn hair framed delicately around her pale skin. She looked like a modest college student, the hardest to find. Her jeans were loose and her white sweater was too big for her frail body. Cam practically tossed her into me, she stumbled and her glasses toppled to the ground.

  She trembled against me, making small pleas, but I couldn't hear her. One of my hands gripped her neck, while the other grasped her waist. It wasn't a sufficient hold, but I was much stronger than her. She didn't stand a chance with a fight against a human, much less someone like me.

  A snarl rippled out of my chest, before I pulled her head to the side and drove my teeth into the skin on her neck. Her high-pitched scream pierced my eardrums as my teeth tore deeper into her flesh. The blood seeped between my teeth while I swallowed the first chunk. I didn't bother chewing. I needed to fill my stomach. I continued to bite down and swallow whatever I could and eventually her screams dissolved into small lengthy gasps.

  "Her sweater is wearing your dinner, mate." Jesse said. My mind, no longer clouded, latched onto his voice. I pulled my head back, my bottom lip dripping with crimson.

  "Very attractive," Cam remarked, holding his thumbs up.

  I could feel the pieces of my face melding together, reforming the mask that caged the monster. I freed one of my hands to touch the corner of my mouth. A smooth surface replaced the decrepit skin, a process that modern medicine could never replicate. Within seconds of devouring the girl, I regained the godlike appearance every zombie attained from consuming human flesh. I was fully restored to blend within the living for a short time.

  I looked down to the limp body in my arms and dropped her callously. She fell face first into the ground. Her once silken hair, now tangled and clumped with fresh blood. Her neck craned to the side, exposing her open wound, the ends of what was left of her skin were stretched and torn.

  "This will look great in the papers." Cam put his hands to his hips, his scrutinizing eyes on the body. "What do you think?"

  "Shark attack," PJ said, his voice monotone. I hadn't noticed PJ behind me. He had a habit of disappearing and reappearing without anyone taking notice.

  "Funny," Jesse said flatly, his weary eyes on me.

  The back door screeched as it flung open. Max stalked out of the venue, his eyes narrowed. I could smell the rage, fuming inside of him. "You asshole!" He shouted at me. "What are we going to do about that group of fans in the first few rows? They're freaking out!"

  "Eat them." PJ blurted, injecting his dry sense of humor into the madness.

  Cam nodded, rubbing his stomach with his hand. "Sounds good to me."

  Max rolled his eyes. "This isn't funny! Do you have any idea who was at our show tonight?"

  "I'd like to answer that question for you, if you don't mind."

  Our heads snapped to the left, in the direction of the voice. A man walked from the shadows of our tour busses and into the light for our viewing. His eyes moved over each one of us, saving me for last. A tight smile formed on his face. My eyes narrowed in response. I didn't care who he was, but I knew what he was, and I already didn't like him.

  "Look man, you want thirty minutes come knock on the door like the other girls." Cam pointed to the door of our tour bus referring to the long line of female fans he had sex with. The Undead paid him no attention, his eyes on me.

  "We don't have many rules, Ben Sloane, but keeping your identity a secret is one of them." His smile grew sinister. "From the long life you've lived I'm sure you understand, we don't take this sort of thing lightly."

  "It was a mistake." Jesse told
him firmly. "The press will never believe it and it won't happen again."

  "For the Undead, there are no second chances Jesse." He said.

  "So kill me." I retorted. "But I'm guessing that whoever taught you math, wasn't doing their job right." I motioned to my brothers and then to him. "You're at an obvious disadvantage here." Each of them snickered and moved closer to the Undead.

  The Undead smirked. "You think I'm alone?"

  I paused, holding my breath, tuning into the noises of our surroundings. I blocked out the incessant chatter of the fans fleeing the venue and pin pointed the sounds of footsteps moving quickly in the distance. My band heard them as well. They stilled to adjust to the noise.

  It took mere seconds and we were surrounded; thirty of the walking dead in different locations around us, two or more, by each of my brothers, their vicious eyes black and ready for attack. I knew, in that moment, it wasn't just me who would suffer for my mistake. It was my best friends, my band mates, my brothers.

  "Fuck," Jesse muttered.

  Every muscle in my body tensed. My eyes glared down the Undead in front of me. "I exposed myself. I'll take the punishment." I snarled.

  He shook his head. "Everyone you know will suffer for your mistake, Ben." His eyes darted to the side where Jesse and Max stood. Six of the Undead were already behind them, their hands at their throats, their fingers digging into their flesh. "You're going to watch as we take away their existence." His eyes moved back to me. "The best we save for last."

  "No!" I shouted. I was in front of him in an instant. "Let me make a deal with you." I heard Jesse's breath hitch. He sucked in air to ignore the pain. I roared in anger at the sight, rage pumping through my veins. "They didn't do anything!"

  "Look," Max said from behind me, his voice measured. "We can make a deal. We have money."

  "There's nothing you have that we don't already possess."

  "We have girls." Cam muttered.

  I looked over my shoulder when he said it, my eyes on Cam. Three of the Undead were restraining him, but he still had the familiar sense of humor in his expression, even facing the ultimate death. His words sparked a distinct memory that I had purposely stored away. Once the thought surfaced, I couldn't hesitate.

  "I have something you want." I said, my gaze snapping back to the Undead in front of me.

  "We're not interested." But I caught the curiosity in his eyes. He was prepared to listen, even if he wouldn't admit it. I gave a snide smile knowing he couldn't refuse my proposition. It was everything they'd been searching for.

  "Oh, you are." I crossed my arms over my chest. "You'd die for it."

  Eleven

  "Order up!"

  "Don't fuck it up!" I mimicked.

  Calvin peered over the steel counter of the kitchen window to smirk at me. I leaned over and flicked his chef hat with one of my fingers before I took table seven's meals and put them on a tray. Balancing it on one hand, I moved around the long 'L' shaped bar counter to the booth labeled 'seven'. From the serving platter I handed each family member their dinners.

  "Is there anything else I can get you?" I asked with a big smile. The mother, who seemed to be graying faster than her toddler was growing, shook her head but returned my smile. The little girl looked up at me from her mommy's lap with wide, angelic brown eyes. She tugged at one of her chocolate colored pigtails that curled into little ringlets at the ends.

  "Can I have crayons?"

  "Magic word," her mother quickly interjected.

  "Can I have crayons, please?" The little girl asked again.

  I grinned down at her and nodded. "Of course." I turned and moved back to the bar after another table handed me their check. I stood at the cash register behind the bar and punched in a few numbers. "Don't forget the crayons." I reminded myself under my breath while eyeing the check.

  "Mmm girl, I must say, you are looking hot punching in those digits."

  "You know it." I responded and looked up to face Shiloh briefly. She shot me a wide smile before turning to man who slid onto one of the stools at the bar. I shook my head. She was getting better at the various accents she used to make us smile. The ghetto impersonation was becoming quite funny.

  After searching through the crayon box underneath the bar, I found one four-pack box with a pink crayon inside. With a satisfied smile, I stood up just in time to see Katie, our manager, carrying a tray full of dirty dishes on her shoulder. She skillfully moved past Shiloh toward the swinging kitchen door.

  "Will one of you please take care of table thirteen?"

  I turned to Shiloh whose fist was already in the air. We both glanced at one another. No one liked table thirteen. It was in the back side of the restaurant and incredibly difficult to deliver food because the table was large enough to hold twelve people. I held my fist up as well.

  "Ready?"

  "Rock...paper...scissors...shoot." We said together. A grin spread across her face when she looked down at the new results below. Her hand was flat representing paper while mine stayed in the shape of a rock.

  "Damn," I muttered after tucking my notepad in the never ending pocket of my apron. I never understood why rock would not beat paper, but the rule was universal and it just screwed me over.

  Shiloh chuckled. I rolled my eyes and smacked her playfully in the arm. I shoved the crayons into my pocket and ambled to the window to pick up the food. The smell of bacon and french fries shared filled my nostrils as I moved the tray past the now empty window. A song from the loud speakers began to play. I smiled, recognizing the tune. I hated pop music, but given the right song, Lady Gaga was an exception. Someone, most likely Shiloh, turned up the music. Everyone in town knew the wait staff liked to sing. It had become part of the diner's charm.

  "Oh," I sang along loudly, hitting a high note that rippled through the restaurant. "I'm beautiful in my way, just gotta make your own mistakes. I'm on the right track baby, I was born this way!" Customers looked up from their conversations. I grinned at a few familiar faces and shook my head gently to avoid dropping the tray I that balanced on my shoulder. "Oh there ain't no other way! Baby, I was born this way." I sang along, but dragged out the notes, fitting them to my vocal range.

  Ava, a waitress in her late twenties, began dancing while taking an order. She sang too, filling in the notes I skipped over. When I reached table thirteen, I smiled and continued to sing. The large group of adults pointed out their correct meals as I handed them out. When the tray was empty, I put it to my side and twirled around belting out a high note. I moved from the end of the diner, listening to people cheering and clapping their hands. At table 7, I handed the little girl her crayons and moved to the steel counter, preparing myself for my favorite part of the song.

  "Oh," I sang loudly, hitting high notes that sent pulses of electricity throughout my body. "No matter gay, straight, or bi, lesbian, transgender life. I'm on the right track baby, I was born to survive." I swung my arms out to the side theatrically while I bent down and hit another high note. "No matter black, white, or beige, chola or orient made. I'm the right track baby, I was born to be brave!"

  The customers, or townies as they were known, sang along as well and moved from side to side in their seats as they clapped with the beat. I jumped up and down twice, threw my head back in preparation for another high note. Ava and Shiloh moved to each side of me. They danced and sang the notes that went along with the track while I adjusted mine higher. I was a bit of a show off when it came to singing, but I never bragged about it.

  I grinned at both girls while we finished the song together. "I was born this way. Hey, I was born this way, hey. I'm on the right track baby I was born this way. Hey!" I closed my mouth immediately, but a grin remained on my closed lips.

  The diner erupted into cheers. Shiloh and Ava hooted and the three of us took turns to bow. I heard a few whistles and I blushed in response. The diner was located on the southwest corner in the town square. Good food made it a hot spot for the locals, but many touris
ts driving through Covington came to the area just for the restaurant because of its popularity. We were known for our random musical breakout moments, which doubled the number of tourists in the summer.

  Katie came around the counter to clap while mouthing the words "back to work." I nodded, bumped firsts with Shiloh, and moved to table six. The elderly couple stared at me in awe. The woman, Mrs. Sharpe, a regular, touched my arm gingerly.

  "You have a lovely voice Ella." She gave me a gentle smile.

  "Thank you very much." I smiled back and handed them the receipt.

  Mr. Sharpe got up slowly and proceeded to help his wife up. He held her arms so carefully, as though she was made of glass. He cherished her. I stepped away, feeling as though my presence disrupted their tranquil moment. I moved to stand behind the bar with Shiloh also watching the couple.

  As I prepared to make a comment about the serene couple, my gaze shifted to the window beside them. A person stood behind the glass. I adjusted my posture for a better look. The man, unlike most customers, wasn't observing the dinner crowd. His line of sight moved until his eyes connected with mine.

  If someone were to ask me what he looked like I could only provide one miniscule detail. His eyes. They were as black as coal, grotesque, and penetrating. We continued to stare at one another, with nothing but glass to separate us. I was pinned underneath his dark gaze. One side of his mouth turned up into a partial, sinister smile. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I heard Shiloh pull me out of the stranger's trance.

  "Aren't they sweet?" She asked me.

  I nearly jumped at the sound of her voice. She looked at me, her eyes wide due to the unexpected jerk my body made. My eyes snapped back to the window, but the strange man was gone. I frowned, my eyes hard as I searched for any sign of him outside, but he had vanished. Part of me was glad to be relieved from his ominous presence, but now his absence left a foreboding aura that hovered in the air.