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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Morning Haze"  Joe Durras, one of the transfer students from Eastman that you are trying to trap, is talking like he wants to walk into your ambush. The opportunity is just too sweet to pass up. "Go back out to my place?" you exclaim. "Oh, fuck me! I ain't been out there since— Well, since this whole thing happened!" Jordan and Cody have been giving you sly, sidelong glances, and now they grin at each other. The exchanged thought is clear: Crazy Gordon, talking again like he's really Dane! You grab your bag and haul yourself to your feet. "Yeah, come on, let's do that now!" "Now?" Joe looks startled. "Fuck yeah! I mean, fuck me! Why ain't I been back out there? You comin'?" "Uh, sure. Wait up!" He has to catch up to you as you trod off for the parking lot. "You mean you really haven't been back out to your old place?" "No! And I don't know how come. I mean— Oh, fuck me, it's my house!" "That's right!" Joe laughs and claps you on the back. "It wouldn't even be breaking and entering!" * * * * * You don't have a car, so Joe leads you out to a truck that might be a little bigger than the one that you drove when you were Will Prescott, but is the same basic, rugged shape and make. As he starts it he asks if you remember the way out, and of course you do, and give directions. You wonder why he's asking, though, since he and his brother were out there yesterday. He asks about your family, if your mother might be there, and what you'll say to her if you see her. You tell him that she might or might not be home, and might or might not be passed out if she is. As for what you'll say to her— You affect to be tongue-tied and ask what he thinks you should do. "Just play it cool," he says. "Is Gordon a friend of yours? Well, never mind if he isn't, just say you're a friend of Dane's." "I've been telling everyone else who I am. That I'm ... the Danester but I got—" You examine your hands. "This thing done to me." "Do people believe you?" You hang your head. "Prob'ly not. But they're cool with it. Maize Tsosie let me move in when Gordon's dad threw me out." "That sucks. I mean, that his dad threw you out, it's awesome that Maize let you move in. His folks okay with that?" "Maize's got his own place. You should come out. We had a little party 'n everything last night." You bite down on your grin. "Woke up a with girl this morning." Joe howls with delight, and promises that he'll hang out with you and Maize so much that it'll be like he moved in too. * * * * * Joe's questions get a little more searching without seeming any more serious as the drive progresses. He is particularly interested in the guy now living in Dane's house and in Dane's body. He agrees with you that it must be Gordon, and he asks if the other guy is claiming to be "Gordon Black." You (truthfully, by Dane's lights) tell him you don't know, that the other guy got shipped out of town soon after, and when he came back he had a "killbot haircut." Oh! you groan, it makes me wanna puke when I see what he done to my hair! There's a relaxed saunter in Joe's stride as you trudge up the walk to the trailer door. He is whistling softly to himself, and he waggles his eyebrows at you as he knocks on the door. When there's no answer he knocks again, then tries the handle. It's locked, but with another eyebrow waggle he takes some long metal pins from of his wallet and wriggles them in the locks. In a trice the door is open. "Whoa, messy housekeeping," he says when you're inside and surveying the disaster zone. "Is this what it looked like when you were living here?" His pretense that he's never been out here is actually getting you to wonder if maybe there's two of this guy walking around, but you just grab your head and shake it in wonder and bafflement. "No," you gasp. "The fuck happened in here? My bedroom!" You start down the hall. "What's he doing with my shit?" You throw open the bedroom door and step in. You weren't prepared to bring anyone out here yet, but the desk is near the door, and on its corner is a stack of brain bands that you put together. Joe is still in the hallway as you palm one. He stops dead in the doorway, and his eyes glitter as his gaze dances over the room. There's rows of masks laid out on the bed, with brain bands next to some. Sitting on the pillow is the cardboard box you carried them in. "Looks like a bomb went off in the drama club," he says as he steps up to the bed. He bends over one of the masks with his hands clasped behind his back. "Left nothing behind but the Muses." He shoots you a sharp look over his shoulder. "Are these yours? You ever see anything like them?" "No! The fuck are they?" "The cause of and solution to your problem, I think." He dips a hand into the box and plucks out the grimoire. "Don't touch anything," he tells you as he bends his face over it. "I won't," you say, and slam the brain band onto the back of his head. He falls onto the bed face first, bounces, and is still. * * * * * You clear a space on the bed and shift Joe into the middle of it. You take his phone from his pocket and lay it aside, and pull his shoes off. From elsewhere in the bedroom you gather what you need: a blank mask, sealant, paint brush, and the golem-making goop. Then it's a matter of waiting, for you are going to follow the same procedure as you did with Dane. So after the brain band reappears (on his forehead, though, not on the back of his head) you put a mask onto his face, where it vanishes. You finger the brain band as you wait, and are startled by the name that appears there: FRANZ FELIX LIEBESSPRUCH. What does it mean? Was he operating under an alias? It would make sense, if he was some kind of undercover cop. It makes you even more curious to find out who he is and what he's up to. You work quickly after the mask is out of him, looking up often as you seal it up, glue the band into it, then coat it with the enslaving paste. He hasn't stirred, though, before you drop it back onto his face. He's resting on his side, and one eye pops open as you straighten up. He glares at you, then half a second later is flying at your face and throat. "Stop it!" you choke out before he can close a grip around you neck. "Get off!" Joe falls back, his eyes blazing and his teeth flashing. His hands are claws and his hair seems to stand on end. "The fuck?" he demands. "What kind of God damned—?" "You have to do what I say! You're my slave!" "I'm—!" His eyes pop, he gulps hard, and all the color drains from his face, leaving it a greenish-white. He chokes. "I'm your minion!" he whispers in a voice filled with horror. "Oh, God damn it!" "Er ... that's right! So just sit down"—he drops onto the edge of the bed—"keep quiet"—his mouth claps shut—"and don't move until I get back." He stares at you aghast, in a posture of almost unnatural rigidity. You start to leave, but pause to glance back from the doorway. He remains stiffly in place, but his eyes shift to follow you. Fear and hatred show in them. "Don't move and don't talk," you warn him again. But to be safer, you take his phone with you. * * * * * He is still where you left him when you return, some fifteen minutes later, in your own natural form but with Gordon Black's clothes dripping off your frame, and his mask in your hand. Joe rears back with a look of recognition. "You wanna say something?" you ask. "How many faces have you got, b-boss?" He gasps at the sound of the last word slipping out. "A couple. This is my real one. You know it?" He nods. "He's on the squad. New guy, no one can really believe it." "Well, he's not me. He's just someone I hired to play me." "Hired?" "Kind of a joke. Take your clothes off." "What are you going to do?" he asks when he's laying on the bed, naked and shivering. His eyes roll in their sockets. "We're collecting faces," you tell him. He has plate-like pecs, showy abs, good legs, a well-shaped and good-sized dong, all glowing with a full-body tan. "You're my latest." "Me?" "Yes." "Boy, are you in for a surprise," he moans just before you tear his face off. Next: "The Fire Behind the Face" |
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