Sam 

For as long as I’ve known him, Masquerade has always made me uncomfortable. The sheen on his lifeless red mask made it difficult to see his true intentions. The only way to get a clear read on him would be to closely monitor his demeanor, but even that’s no too accurate. His posture always resembles that of a statue. Every microscopic movement he makes is very deliberate and planned. It feels as though he’s passively learning everything about you with his sudden and precise movement, while also exchanging very little words.  

We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a bit longer than I would like. Masquerade held a controlled but threatening posture that seemed to be angled more so towards Donovan.  

“What say you…Mr. Pinkerton?” he finally asks.  

“Just call me Donovan.”  

“I only mean to be respectful.” 

Donovan shifts uncomfortably on the couch. He folds his arms and gives an unconvincing, yet suspicious look towards him. It’s clear as day that he doesn’t trust Masquerade, and the face-obsessed psycho knows that as well. Nothing about his appearance in any situation can be deemed good. His ulterior motives shroud any kind of understanding, even to the higher ups in this fucked up game. Now I wonder, why would he go out of his way just to tell us his intentions of killing Mr. Plague?  

“How?” Donovan says sternly. 

Masquerade shifts his focus away towards the rabbit on the dining table. “How…is the hard part. But I think I have a hunch on what to do.” 

“It involves you Donovan,” the rabbit says suddenly. “While gathering information from various sources, we’ve concluded that you are the last puzzle piece to Mr. Plague’s grand plan.” Donovan, understandably, looks at the crimson-rabbit with confusion. I’m guessing it’s either he’s never seen a talking animal yet, or he realized just how deep he really is in this hellscape of a game we’re playing. Either way, there’s quite a lot of tribulation he’s going to endure sooner or later.  

The little fur-ball leaps from the table onto the armrest of where Masquerade sat. It faced forward and delivers a look towards me that lasted a second too long for my liking. I gave it a quick scowl back, deliberately making it obvious I don’t trust anything it says. This rabbit, was one of many omens that run around the underworld. Some range in different sizes, personality and don’t settle of just appearing as a hare, but they all act the same and deliver a common message to anyone willing to hear. Their words hold no significant truth or weight and should not be outright trusted. Masquerade interrupts our stare down, and continues the discussion. 

“Well, that’s our overall summary, but not entirely the whole picture. We suspect he wants to break the barrier between our world and yours.”  

“What?” Donovan says. “Wait…there’s a barrier? Aren’t you people already spilling into our world? Our cities? Our homes?” 

“What do you mean by you people?”  

“Don’t.” I said, snapping him back on topic. 

“Hehe, all in good fun Samantha. Just wanted to relieve the tension in the room…but no, you’re right Donovan. We do have some semblance of entry in your world, but only the weaker beings can enter undisturbed.” 

“…Such as yourself?” He responds coldly. 

“Yes…such as myself. You see Donovan, Mr. Plague is already half way done with discovering that final piece. While you ventured into the woods to find him, you didn’t notice that his cabin seems to already be a part of your world? Have you not realized how seamless it was to encounter him?” Donovan’s face changed from highly skeptical, to a slow dreading realizing look. “Exactly. He’s already so imbedded into your world; everything is so natural when it comes to finding him. There are very few beings that have that level of expertise in finding the loop holes between our worlds. If there is one thing about him, is that his craftiness to get whatever he wants will always eclipse his other colleagues. They know this, and his particular interest in you...” 

“So…why are you here?” I cut in abruptly.  

“I told you already, to kill him.”  

“No, that’s no it. That may be your goal, but you have ulterior motives.”  

“Aah Samantha, you always knew how to poke and prod for answers...” 

“Yeah, no shit. You’ve done way too much double-crossings on me to forget how you actually move. The constant threat of death and torture won’t sit well with anyone standing within a ten feet radius of you. All for the sake of your fucked-up collection…”.  

Donovan dwells in silence. Essentially letting us banter back and forth, while also giving no signs of intervening. It’s a smart move for gathering information without having to directly interact. I knew he was smart, but so was Sebastian. There has to be a reason for everyone to take an interest in Donovan so much.  

“Well, it’s nice to know how you truly feel. You rarely speak your mind, but since you asked, fine…Donovan has the ability to find anything and everything he sets out to get. We can all work together to find out how to kill Mr. Plague.”  

We sat for a moment, stunned and confused. What kind of trick was he playing at. “What?” I said accusingly. “How do you even know that? Me and Sebastian spent years trying to figure out how to do that.”  

The rabbit steps slightly forward on the armrest with a clear response. “That…is only a theory. We shouldn’t jump to conclusion so soon, but we have a strong hunch that is the reason as to why Mr. Plague has such a fondness with Donovan. As of now, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”  

“Then why are you here? What do you get out of this?” 

The red hare tilts it’s head, pondering an answer. “Eh…I’m just bored.” Masquerade looks down in clear contempt. It’s pretty shocking to see these two interacting with each other. They both have polar opposite values, and they don’t show any clear sign of becoming close friends. An unlikely alliance, it seems. 

“Well...how do we do it?” Donovan’s words cut through the air carefully.  “How do get rid of him?” 

Masquerade looks at both of us. His red mask, seamlessly engraved within his bronze skin, made it hard to judge his emotions. I could never tell if he thought carefully of what to say next, or what sudden actions he needed to do, if certain pressure is applied on him. Although at this very moment, I didn’t have time to find that answer. He slowly stood up, reached within his pocket and handed us both two red business cards. They were blank and nearly featureless, aside from the off putting but pleasant suede texture it had.  

“When the time comes, these cards will vibrate. Pick either one, and rub it between your index finger and thumb. Then, you’ll appear before my home. These cards act as a clear pass into the party, so don’t lose them.” Masquerade turns and begins to leave. The rabbit jumps onto his shoulder without so much as glancing our way. It was sudden, and jarring. I’ve heard of his annual masquerade ball, but never had a chance to attend one. Something, was bothering me. His sudden appearance in this world, and extreme declaration of killing Mr. Plague seems so out-of-nowhere. He’s planning something. I just need a bit more information. 

“You have a habit of not answering direct questions, don’t you?” Donovan asked sarcastically.  

“You’re a detective, solving indirect puzzles with indirect answers is one of your many gifts. Don’t worry, I’ll explain in full detail when you arrive.” 

“Well...who else did you invite?”  

“Too many to count at the moment. Just know it’ll be a full party, and you’ll see some familiar faces. I bid you a farewell.” 

Masquerade pulls out one more card and begins his departure, but Donovan eagerly stopped him for one more question.  

“Wait! You said there were other beings trying to break into our world, right? So, who else? Who else managed to get through the barrier? How do we find them? Am I able to find a way to get rid of everyone else?” 

“You don’t find them, they find you. And no, you can’t beat them. This being has been here since the dawn of man and the concept of time came into fruition. They tower over everyone...even my own kind.” 

“Then who is it...?”  

“Death.” He pulls out a red card, rubs it gently, and vanishes in a cloud of red dust. Not a trace of his being was left behind. Nothing, except an ominous feeling of emptiness.