FACES WE WEAR

FACES WE WEAR

The rain had been falling since sunset.

Ariya stood alone in the hallway of her grandmother’s old house, staring at the bookshelf that had always been f*******n to touch. Her grandmother had disappeared that afternoon without leaving a note, a message, or any explanation.

Everyone said she would return.

But Ariya knew something was wrong.

Her grandmother never went anywhere without telling her.

As thunder shook the windows, Ariya noticed something strange. One of the books on the shelf had moved slightly. She reached for it, and the entire bookshelf shifted backward.

Behind it was a narrow wooden door.

Ariya’s heart began to pound.

She opened it.

Cold air rushed past her.

Beyond the door was a hidden room filled with masks.

Hundreds of them covered the walls—beautiful masks, frightening masks, masks with strange markings, and masks that looked almost human.

Ariya stepped inside.

Then she heard a whisper.

“Ariya…”

She froze.

“Grandma?”

There was no answer.

The whisper came again.

“Ariya…”

Her eyes moved toward the far wall.

One mask stood alone.

It was pale green with a single black mark above its eye.

Ariya remembered seeing it once when she was younger.

Her grandmother had called it the Hollow Face.

She had also warned Ariya never to touch it.

Ariya slowly reached toward it.

The moment her fingers touched the mask, every candle in the room went out.

A cold silence filled the room.

Then a voice whispered directly behind her.

“You finally came back.”

Ariya turned around.

Nobody was there.

She looked back at the mask.

It was gone.

On the wall where it had been hanging, fresh words had appeared:

YOUR FAMILY DID NOT CREATE THE MASKS.

Ariya stared at them, terrified.

Then another message appeared beneath it.

THE MASKS CREATED YOUR FAMILY.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut.

And somewhere in the darkness, a girl began to laugh