Wanted (2 page)

Randolph laughed. “Your beast is afraid of masks.”

William stared at the mask in his brother's hands. The face was twisted and ugly, covered in bulging warts. A fat blue tongue hung from the mouth. The tongue was also covered in warts. The ears appeared to be dripping with yellow pus.

“It's very ugly,” William said. “I want to run away from it, too.”

Randolph ignored that comment. He reached into the leather case and pulled out another mask. Another ugly, twisted, wart-pocked face. Then a third one.

This was green and shaped like an insect's head. It had two rows of spiky, pointed teeth and big pointed ears. A demon's face!

“Put them away,” William said. “Masks should be beautiful. Delicate. I cannot stand to see such ugliness.”

“You don't understand,” Randolph insisted. “These will make you famous. Your shop will be known around the world.”

William shuddered. He turned his eyes away from the ugly green mask. “You brought these here to sell to me?”

His brother nodded. “I will give you a good price. I … I'm a little short of cash. You know how it is. A little needy right now. You can pay me less than these are worth.”

“But I don't want them!” William said. “They are too ugly. They will scare the children. I make masks for children, Randolph. I can't have these in my shop.”

“Idiot!” Randolph snapped. He tossed the green mask onto the pile of masks on the table. “Don't you see? I haven't brought you ordinary masks. Have you no eyes? These aren't masks!”

“Not masks? Then what are they?” William demanded.

“They are faces. Human faces.”

William uttered a loud gasp. He took a step back from the table. “What are you saying? What do you mean?”

“These faces used to talk and smile,” Randolph said. “Look, brother. Look at them.” He turned the case upside down and several tumbled to the table. William counted at least a dozen of them.

“But —” William couldn't find words. He realized his heart was beating hard in his chest.

“These are the faces no one wanted,” Randolph said, spitting the words in William's face. “Too ugly. Too sick. Too twisted. No one wanted them. No one wanted to see them. They are The Unwanted. The Unwanted Faces of the world.”

William stared hard at the pile of faces. Could his brother be telling the truth?

“Take them away, Randolph. I find this very … upsetting.”

“No.” Randolph grabbed William's sleeve. “Go ahead. Touch them. Touch just one. Pick one up.”

“No. Please —”

Randolph tugged his brother's hand, pulled it to the table. “Touch one. Go ahead. Do it, coward!”

William swallowed hard. He felt his dinner rise to his throat. He suddenly felt very sick.

“Do it! Touch it!”

William reached for a mask. He smoothed his fingers over its cheek. “Oh, good heavens. Oh, no. Oh, please — no.”

Randolph laughed.

William gasped again. He jerked his hand away. “It … It's skin. Human skin. And it feels warm.”

Randolph nodded, his dark eyes flashing. “I'm telling you the truth, William. Don't you see? If you put these in your shop, people will talk. People will —”

“No!” William cried. “No! Listen to me. I don't know where you got these faces, Randolph. These poor souls. I don't care where you got them. I just want them out of my house. I will not have them in my shop. And I will not have them — or
you
— in my house!”

In his anger, William grabbed the smooth green mask with the pointed ears and the rows of ugly teeth. He intended to jam it back into the leather case. But it seemed to cling to his hand.

He spun it around and studied its ugly, frightening face. “This one —”

“Be careful with that one, William.”

“It's the ugliest one of all,” William said with a horrified sneer. Why couldn't he put it down?

“Be careful, brother. That mask is haunted.”

William's breath caught in his throat. “Haunted?”

Randolph nodded. “Haunted with the evil of centuries.” He pushed William's arm. “Go ahead. Try it on. I dare you. Try it on. Maybe it will persuade you to buy these wonderful faces from me.”

“N-no —” William stammered. “Take it away. I can feel its evil. I can feel it right through the skin. Take it away!”

William gasped as he heard laughter. Soft, tinny laughter. Where did it come from?

He jumped back as the table started to move. No. His eyes must be playing tricks on him. The masks …

The table wasn't moving. The masks were wriggling and bouncing on top of one another. The sound of laughter rose till it filled the room.

The laughter was coming from the jiggling masks.

And as William gaped in shock, the masks floated up from the table. Soared up together, skin flapping, open mouths releasing peal after peal of cruel laughter.

The laughing masks formed a wall in front of William and began to bump up against him … bump him … bump him in an ugly, frightening game of tag.

“Shut up! Shut up!” The terrified man covered his ears. The harsh laughter sent chills down his back. The wall of bumping masks was too gruesome, too hideous for his eyes.

“Shut up! Stop that laughter! Get down!”

William swung his fists at them, trying to beat them down. He grabbed at the floating masks, but they pulled back out of his reach. He shot his fists forward, trying to punch them down — anything to make them stop.

But his efforts made them laugh even harder. The ugly faces leered at him, teasing him, taunting him.

William turned to his brother. Randolph stood with his arms crossed in front of him. He had an angry scowl on his face.

He grabbed William's elbow and spun him around. “I
knew
you wouldn't buy my masks!” he screamed. “Everything I ever do is wrong! Is that what you believe? You've always been so superior — like you're so much better than me. You've always treated me like I was dirt under your fingernails.”

Randolph uttered an angry cry. “You were always the talented one. The gifted mask-maker. The artist. And I was just a common thief. A beggar.”

The jiggling curtain of floating masks laughed louder.

“Well, this time
I'm
the winner, William! This time, I am the one who comes out the winner. Because once and for all, I have defeated you. I have
doomed
you, brother!”

William tried to back away. But the floating masks blocked his path.

Randolph grabbed the green mask — the Haunted Mask. He gripped it in both hands. Dove forward — raised it high, and tugged the mask down over William's head.

William let out a scream. His cry was muffled inside the mask.

He could feel the mask tighten onto his face. It felt warm and dry and …
alive
!

“Nooooo!” He uttered another cry and grabbed at the cheeks. He struggled to pull them away from his skin. “Take this off! Randolph — help me! Take this off!”

William grappled with the mask. Why did it seem to be tightening so rapidly? Pressing itself to his skin. He struggled to see through the open eyeholes. But his vision was clouded, as if a heavy fog had invaded the room.

He lowered his hands to the bottom of the mask and tried to slip his fingers underneath. Tried to pry it up, away from his throat.

But no.

His hands slapped frantically at the mask, exploring, searching for the bottom, for where the mask ended and his skin began.

It's attaching itself to me!

The laughter of the floating masks seemed distant now. Even his own cries sounded as if they were coming from far away.

He felt a red, raging anger build in his chest.

Is the anger coming from me? Or from the mask?

He tore at the sides of the mask. “Randolph! Help me! Take this off!” His voice came out rough and raspy — not his voice at all.

He squinted through the eyeholes. “Randolph! You win! Take this mask off me!”

The masks giggled and bounced in front of him, a floating wall. They circled him slowly, mouths hanging open. He couldn't see his brother. Couldn't see him anywhere.

And then as he stared in growing horror, he watched the masks turn away from him. They whirled away, still laughing, and floated to the door. The open front door.

In seconds, the masks were gone. Vanished into the night. He could still hear their laughter from outside.

“Randolph?”

He turned from the open door. He spun all around. “Randolph?”

His brother had vanished, too.

William tossed back his head and let out an animal cry. He could feel wave after wave of anger roll down his body until his chest felt about to explode.

He grabbed and slapped and tugged at the hideous mask. But he couldn't budge it. The skin of the mask had attached itself to him. It had become
his
skin now.

And the evil of the mask filled
him
with rage, a powerful fury so strong, so overwhelming, he could no longer control himself.

Bellowing his rage, William slammed the front door shut, so hard it thudded like thunder. He slapped a vase off a table, sending it crashing to the floor. Then he lifted the table in both hands and heaved it across the room into the fireplace.

He took his dining table in both hands and smashed it against his cabinet of glasses and china. He tore through the living room, slapping books off the shelves, pulling down shelves, pulling down everything that came in front of him.

He shattered the lamps with his bare hands and ripped the curtains off the walls. In minutes, his house was destroyed, piles of broken glass everywhere, broken chairs on top of shattered chinaware, paintings ripped in two.

Breathing in loud wheezes, he didn't stop — until Hansel crept into the room. The frightened dog had his ears down, his tail tucked between his legs.

“Hansel!” William roared. “Hansel!” The sight of the dog made him feel a little calmer. The dog watched him warily and wouldn't come close.

“Hansel, look what he has done to me. Randolph has doomed me.
Doomed
me!” He reached out to the dog. But Hansel whimpered and backed away.

“You don't recognize me —
do
you?” William cried. “You don't recognize me because of this evil mask.”

Once again, he began tearing at the mask, pulling it, prying at it, trying to rip it away with both hands.

Come off. Come off. Come off!

With a terrifying burst of strength, William gave a final heave. He opened his mouth in a scream of agony as the mask tore away. It made a loud ripping sound as it ripped free.

William screamed again as unbearable pain roared over him, crippling him. And he saw the blood flow from his head.

Holding the mask, he saw the skin clinging to its inside. And he knew what he had done.

He knew.

I've torn my FACE off with the mask!

He dropped to his knees. The pain was too powerful. He couldn't stand.

I've torn my face off. The only way to remove the mask.

And now I must wait to die.