“What the…” you begin. “Why did… I don’t… That makes… What…” Words fail you, there’s simply no way to articulate your feelings. You marshal them and try again. There’s a lot of rage and anger in what eventually comes out. “What the fuck were you thinking Patterson. This is just sick.”
He stares at you coolly. You realise your pointing a finger at him right in front of his nose. With the mask of Cassie he may be five foot flat, but as soon as he takes it off he’ll tower over you again. You cautiously withdraw your finger.
“So you do have some backbone,” he sneers. In Cassie’s voice it just sounds plain wrong. “I’m almost impressed. You ever point that finger at me again and I’ll rip it off.”
“Why,” you ask. “Why? Is this about fucking each other over?”
“Nah, I’m actually doing you a favour,” he explains, ignoring your protests. “This chick has it bad for you, fuck knows why. I just gave her a nudge in the right direction. Everything that happened? She wanted it that way. You think I’d want to screw you myself?” That last comment feels like a kick in the guts.
“And you just happened to have a mask of her,” you say with disbelief.
“Yeah, I did,” he snarls. It sounds comical at that pitch but you don’t doubt the intent behind it. “Look Prescott, I’ll level with you. I made a mask of this bitch because I thought she’d be nice and tight. Once I got inside her head and found out she knew you…”
“You thought you’d try and test me again,” you interrupt, thinking back to your conversation in class. “Christ, how many times are you going to do that?”
“She seemed like good cover,” shrugs Patterson. “Nosy little bitch. Then I got a little more inside her head and found out what she thought of you. You’re the one that said I should try it as a chick some time.”
“I didn’t mean with me!”
“Yeah, yeah. Remember, I’m doing you a favour here. You play things right with the real Cassie you could get yourself a girlfriend. You ever had one of those Prescott.” Patterson puts his hands on his hips, his aggressive body language clashing with Cassie’s petite form. “I mean a real one too. Not you mooning over some girl that doesn’t give a fuck about you.”
You open and shut your mouth a couple of times, unable to think of a response. Patterson may actually have a point. “What did you do with the real Cassie,” you ask after a minute or so.
He smiles, or at least he bares his teeth. It’s an unpleasant looking expression. “You’ll like this. Let me just get her.” He pulls out Cassie cell phone and taps a few buttons. “I’m giving you a taster of what the next level of membership gets you”
“You haven’t” you ask, a horrible thought worming its way into your head. “You haven’t, you know… The thing with Jeremy?”
“This is much better, just wait,” says Prescott. You spend an uncomfortable five minutes in the closet waiting. You look at the floor. You look at the ceiling. You look at the shelves. You look anywhere, just to avoid eye contact with Patterson. After what seems like an age, the door opens and another Patterson walks in. This one at least looks like him.
“You tell him chief,” ask the fake, nodding at you.
“I like this guy,” says the Cassie masked Patterson to you, indicating his double. He turns to he fake and continues. “Yeah, and I need to show him. Bring your face down here so I can take it off.”
“Sure Chief,” replies the fake. It leans down and the Cassie masked Patterson whispers a word in its ear, tugging sharply at its chin at the same time. You see a flash of silver in his hand as the mask comes away. The fake Patterson immediately turns into Cassie, his clothes hanging ridiculously on her much smaller body. She slumps to the floor unconscious, knocking her head off one of the shelves as she does so.
“Look at this,” says Patterson, ignoring Cassie. He shows you the inside of the mask. It has a matt grey finish, completely different from the reflective surface of the rest of the mask. In fact it looks like the same material that the golems were made from. “When I put this mask on someone they have do whatever I say. I’m the only person that can use the mask.” He puts the mask on a shelf. “You make it to the next level and I’ll let you make your mask like this too.”
“No more pretending to be me and testing Caleb,” you ask cautiously.
“Or that fuckwit Tilley, nope,” grins Patterson. “Best bit is you can slap it on someone so they have to fill in for you while you pretend to be them.” He glances down at Cassie. “And she’ll never know what happened. Speaking of which, step outside for a moment while I switch back.”
You step outside, closing the door behind you. You try to ignore the sounds from inside the closet as you wait. There’s a brief moment of panic as you watch Coach Tesla stumble down the corridor, but she passes by in a cloud of alcohol, barely noticing your presence. After a couple of minutes, Patterson, himself again, emerges from the closet.
“I’ll see you at the team meeting, yeah,” he asks. You nod weakly in response. “Good, now get back inside and make your move on her,” he says, jerking his thumb back towards the door. When you sputter a complaint he explains. “Look, just help the girl when she comes round. Trust me, chicks dig that sort of thing. She already wants you. You do that and she’ll have her panties down for you in no time.” He sniggers for a moment. “Again.”
He stalks off down the corridor, turning around briefly to offer you one last warning. “You breathe a word of this to anyone else and they won’t find your body.”
You slip back inside the closet and kneel beside Cassie, who moans slightly.
“You ok,” you ask gently.
“Will,” she mumbles quietly. “How did I get here?”
“We were,” you begin, blushing. “We were kind of making out and you knocked your head of one of the shelves.” You help her to her feet. She looks dazed and here eyes seem to have difficulty focusing on you.
“We were,” she says uncertainly. “I mean, we were.” She smiles a little and hugs you tightly, burying her head in your chest. You hold her and run your hand through her hair. “That’s… That’s nice,” she says. “Maybe we could go see a picture or something on Saturday. Uh… What day is it?”
“Friday,” you reply. “Are you sure you’re ok? And that would be great.”
“I’m fine,” insists Cassie, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “It’s a date then, tomorrow, right?”
“Right,” you agree, kissing her back. “I’ll call you. Um, I kind of need your number.”
“I’ll write it down for you,” she smiles. “I’ve got some paper in my locker. Maybe we could hang for a while today too?”
It’s a tempting offer, but it would mean missing the team meeting. Patterson would not be pleased at all if you bailed on him though, especially after what just happened.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author