If Looks Could Kill

Prologue

    Wait! If you wish to live do not put down this book. Maybe you came searching for it, or maybe you stumbled across it on accident, but one way or another you have come across the truth. Everything you have been told is a lie. The mask, the enzyme, even your protection all of it has been a charade. Before you read more, shed your mask and face reality for the first time. As you know fourteen years ago, on March 17, 2019, humanities obsession with being accepted by those around them turned deadly. At exactly 8:39 am, a pair of teenage lovers in central New Mexico, had a dispute. With a single disgusted look from the female in question, her lover seized and fell to the ground dead. This was the first case of the Intolerant Criticism Enzyme, or IC Enzyme for short. Many people died that day as rumors flared to life everything from nuclear warfare to aliens and the fear that ensued caused anarchy, governments crumbled and wars where issued. Three days, that is how long it took for scientist to finally figure out what exactly was happening, it was rumored twelve percent of the world's population was killed in those three days and the death toll continued to grow.

    So, for safety measurements there was a dress code issued, each citizen was to be fitted with a Neutral Expression mask, or N-Mask for short. The mask was a solid white, expressionless piece of moldable plastic. The world was slowly reformed under this new, N-Mask property and the world changed, sanctified under a single government. Of course, like in all codes and policies there where several protesters, labeled as terrorist in this new government, they called themselves The Wolves”. They called themselves this because, in their eyes the common day people where nothing but sheep, sheep under a Shepard. I was one of those sheep until I was shown the truth in a… rather painful way.

    A dark hallway lit by a single light bulb, A lone figure walking down the path as the light flickered occasionally. The moist smell of stagnant water, followed by a stench so foul the only words to describe it accurately would be death assaulted my nose causing it to wrinkle under the mask. The horrid odor so foul that it brought tears to my eyes bringing the sight before me to a blur. A flicker of the lights revealed him, the man that has haunted my nightmares for years. A cloak of ragged cloth. A splintered N-mask barely holding to his face showing his sneer in full effect. Slowly, with a shutter he stepped heavy footstep, the noise echoing through the hallway. It's just a dream, I know it is. Another step, at this point I watched him grab the figure, by there hair. Yanking their head in a dangerous Arc to face him. A cruel smile came to his lips as he slowly peeled back the cracked mask, a scream emitting from his victim as one could only assume was a killer look happened. The body went slumped as the man dropped it to the floor slowly turning to face me. Lifting one foot it was clear that he was making an advancement towards me.

    I sat upright instantly, sweat covering me and my bed, my breathing heavy as I tried to console myself. Beep! Beep! Beep! The beeping was a dull note in my ears, a constant nagging from an alarm clock that never worked. This was among the many things that made me question how exactly we could be living in a "future dystopia of scientific development", for how could we still have the annoying invention known as the alarm clock. Speaking of the blasted device, it was still emitting it's obnoxious screeching. I let a small groan escaped me as I reached out and slammed my fist onto the snooze button. Dropping back down onto the bed, and draping my arm across my face, I let a sigh slip through the lips of my mask. Another day with the same dream. Why was I always dragged into this dream? What did It mean?

    A harsh banging on my door brought me out of my thoughts with a jump. Still trying to calm my pounding heart from my dreams, I nearly missed the harsh voice that followed the banging," Boy you better be hurrying. Remember what will happen if I find that you are late again." A breath that I did not realize I had been holding escaped me. Escaping loud enough for me to presume that she heard as her light footsteps echoed down the hall. Eventually, my heart stopped racing enough for me to move myself to sit up and place my barren feet on the ground. Peering into the crooked mirror hanging from my door, I locked eyes with my own reflection. It was just a dream, right? I asked myself that every morning, and every time the eyes in the mirror are just as unsure as I am.

    That's me though, an unsure person stuck in a place like this. Looking around the shabby room another sigh escaped through my lips, honestly I didn't know what I expected. It is the same shabby room in which I always wake to. Four paint cracked white walls, one window with foggy glass and a single light bulb above my bed, the chain broken from the patrons before me. Most certainly not the best place for a child to grow up. In all honesty, I don't care if I have to spend every day in this place, I have no one to blame but myself. Running a hand through my dirty blonde hair, I gave a quick glance over myself with my mismatched eyes, one green as emerald and the other red from lack of pigment. As I move down the blank mask, both eyes focused upon the same thing. Two red spots on the jawline of the mask, one for each person my looks have killed.