The Book of Masks (Vol. 2)

Mix and Match and Masks

Previously: "The Apprentice Becomes the Master" 

by Masktrix

You think long and hard. As tempting as joining the cheerleaders may be – not to mention beneficial to your social standing – you need to focus on what you’ve discovered. It’s getting too late to get supplies for the spell, but you can spend the evening finishing a little Latin homework.

Sorry, something’s come up. Rain check?

A flurry of sad emojis spells the end of what could have been a fun Friday night in Saratoga Falls.

You wake at 8am, Saturday, fresh and ready to go. The first order of business is to head into town and scoop up chemistry supplies; you think you have the recipe for the first spell, and as laborious as the process of polishing a mask is, you want to make sure you can do it without having to rely on the whims of a hyperactive teenager. And it’s while you’re in town, at about 11am and pretty much entirely out of funds, when you get your next message. It’s Shelly with directions on where to go.

An hour later you find yourself walking down to the edge of Acheson, where the houses peter out to the woods. You take a main road, then a side road, and finally find yourself turning down muddy, unpaved lane lined with trees. It’s a lonely, almost creepy spot, but eventually you walk past a clutch of isolated houses painted a pale lilac. The first is pure Americana: a barnstar plastered above the entrance, a flag waving from a pole nearby and a swingseat set out in a shady garden. The next is more dilapidated, almost as if it’s going for rural decay chic, with an old-pre-fabricated garage nearby that signals the end of the lane and the start of a walking trail. You assume this must be the place. You rap on the garage side door, which is opened by a beaming Shelly.

“Welcome to our coven den!” she announces. You find yourself in some insane art lab, bright halogen lamps installed along the roof to scorch away all shadows. Dominating one side of the interior is a long, paint-splattered table filled with chemical supplies: vats of silicone and latex, solvents and fixing equipment. Giant casting moulds are stacked haphazard nearby, while the floor is marked by oil and the occasional errant streak from a spray can. The whole room reeks of acetone, but it’s the wall nearest to you that gives you the biggest surprise. Masks. Stacks of masks. Horror creations, skeletons, deranged killers, a few rip-offs of well known films. Most are on Styrofoam busts; others are stacked elsewhere. One particularly elaborate creation, a killer clown, is on a tailor’s dummy, its head half-punched with realistic hair.

“What is this place?” you ask.

“My mom’s workshop. She makes Halloween masks, ships and sells them everywhere. Carnivale masks too, and F/X work for movies if needed. The last few weeks have been totally crazy for her given it’s spooky season, but she’s cleared her backlog and the orders have dried up. Now she’ll basically take the rest of the year off, start up again for Mardi Gras and Spring Break just before Christmas. What do you think? Awesome coven house, right? I asked if I can use it to work on cosplay costumes with friends, and I made her promise not to come down to see what I’m working on until it’s finished. I have my own work bench for chemicals and stuff. As long as I bring down enough emergency snacks with me to keep her worrying, she won’t disturb us.”

You have to give Shelly credit; a mask-making workshop is a great place to hide magical masks.

You get started. Shelly demands a promise not to betray the coven and produces an occult encyclopedia, from which she selects a ‘binding oath’ that bestows doom, disaster and three-score suffering if you act against the group. It’s stupid, but you take it anyway. Next, you show the finished mask to Shelly, who agrees it looks much the same as when she finished the first one. For her part, she reveals that the next spell has been completed, triumphantly holding out a small band of metal. This, she explains, is a “freakin’ mind scoop”. Put it on someone’s head, then your own, and you can read their thoughts, if she’s translating things right. And her target is already clear.

“We’re going to use it on Coach Acuna.”

“Haven’t we focused on her enough?”

“Think about it, Will! We already have a mask of her, but it’s pretty much useless without her mind as well. I think there’s no way the author of this book would tell you how to create mind band and a mask, and then not have a way to combine the two. With both of them, we won’t just look like Coach Acuna! For all intents and purposes, we can be Coach Acuna. It’s the perfect test run!”

The one challenge is how to get it on her. But, for that, Shelly already has an idea. “We’re going to use the mask you just finished polishing up,” she says. “Later on, I’m going test an idea I have with it. But first, we’re going to create a third mask. And you’re going to have to spend all weekend buffing it, because once you’re Acuna you’re going to use it and a mind band on Kelsey Blankenship so I can cosplay as her.”

“What are you going to test with the mask we’ve already made?”

“Uh, spoilers! Wait and see, it’ll take me an hour or something. Now c’mon, let me show you how to make a mask.”

You watch Shelly as she walks through the mask-making process. Then, after securing your promise to get to work, Shelly takes the already prepared mask and rushes off, leaving you to polish the creation. It’s hard, mind-numbing and laborious… but then you notice what looks like an industrial buffer in the corner of the workshop. Deciding it might be worth a shot, you hook the mask up to it and turn it on, watching as it begins to whip the mask into functionality with far greater effort than you can manage. And, better yet, that gives you the perfect chance to read the actual book without interruption.

Shelly is gone for about 90 minutes. You’re just beginning to panic, and the sky outside is beginning to darken, when she comes hurtling through the door, waving the mask. “You won’t believe what I’ve done!” she exclaims. “This is so awesome. I think I’ve worked out a whole new spell!”

You sit up from the book and begin to explain how you’ve industrialized cottage magic, but she waves you away. “Now, lesson two! The paste to seal the mask! You’re going to LOVE this, if what I think happens does happen. And if it doesn’t, uh, it’s going to be interesting.”

Shelly gets to work applying a thin layer of goo to the mystery mask, during which time you actually have a chance to tell her about the machine. This gets a non-focused nod of approval, while you get back to reading the book. It’s dark by the time Shelly finishes the sealing process. “Now,” she says, motioning you over. “Come and take a look at THIS.” You step over to see what Shelly’s doing and, without warning, her hand shoots out at you and the mask lands on your face.

***

“Gah!” You wake up strewn on the floor, groaning with a distinctly feminine register. Shelly appears above you, grinning madly. “IT FREAKIN’ WORKS! I AM THE WITCH OF WESTSIDE!”

“What the hell, Shelly! Don’t ever do that again!” You rage, very conscious that you’re a woman again. You look down at your body. White, slightly aged skin, breasts, and a little fat creeping over your belly that strains against your T-shirt.

“Sorry, Will. I needed a guinea pig as I wasn’t sure if this would work. And, as I’m the leader of this coven, obviously you had to be the test subject.” She holds up a mirror. You blink, looking at the reflection of a woman of indeterminate age – maybe in her twenties or thirties – with honey blonde-hair cut in a pageboy bob. She has a round face with pale skin and a nose that reminds you a little of Shelly’s, yet entirely different eyes, too large and close together to be conventionally pretty, with thick eyebrows above blue-grey irises. The torso of the body is curvy, although your arms and thighs seem to be more muscular and athletic. You smile, and notice that your teeth are tiny, causing your mouth to come to rest in a determined scowl.

“Who am I?” you ask.

“Nobody whatsoever!” Shelly claps. “I thought that it’d be possible to use the masks to make an entirely new identity, and I’m right! If you use the mask on more than one person before it’s sealed, it takes the best bits and sort of stirs them together like a face-morph app. First, I used it on my mom. Then I knew my next door neighbor Tina was back from college, so I used it on her while she was dozing in the swing seat. And I was going to leave it at that when I saw a jogger come by on the trail. I faked twisting my ankle and put the mask on her when she stopped. And yeah, you don’t have to say anything, I know that was risky, but nobody comes down here after the morning fitness freak rush, even on a Saturday, and it worked out fine. Plus, I thought ahead and paused her run tracker, only to restart it just as she came around. She won’t notice she lost about 10 minutes of time.”

“So this body is a mix of your mom, your next door neighbor and some random jogger?”

“Exactly!” Shelly says, jumping for joy. “We don’t have to just be people we know. We can be whoever we imagine! And that’s useful, because tomorrow one of us is going to use this disguise to get the mind band on Coach Acuna. I already know where’s she’s gonna be! She’s super-religious. One of us is going to church.”

You take things in for a moment, then grin with your stranger’s smile. “Cool.”

Next: "Sunday Is for Scheming" 

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"Table of Contents (Vol. 2)" 
"The Book of Masks (Vol. 2)"