Hiding behind a Mask (The Maskless Trilogy #1)

By K. Weikel

There is a place full of shame and hatred
Where people hide their torn faces
They cower behind masks and close themselves off
And they're told not to come out no matter the scoff
No matter the torment, no matter the pain,
Taking off your mask will admit that you're vain.

Never take off the mask that hides your deepest truths.
But what if you did, what would you find beneath the ruins?

Someone is following Becca Reed
He wants her on the Dark Clan
And he says things...
Things that don't make sense.
Things that are making Becca
Reach insanity.
But what is insanity
In a world full of it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: K. Weikel Publishing
• Release date: Dec 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310481611

K. Weikel

K. Weikel uses her three-dimensional characters to tell stories of life and adventure and magic."The One-Hundred" won the Wattys Award in 2015 and has reached over two million reads. Weikel has also won the 2017 Writers Awards for Building Monsters. She has written 60 books, including her first manga, "Katharsis". To learn more, visit her website: http://www.kweikel.comSERIES:Underdogs (4)Replay (13)Katharsis (1)The One-Hundred (6 Books, 1 Short Story, 1 Novella)The Haunted Mansion (4)The Blood Room [3 Alternate Endings]TRILOGIES:Dead MenMaskless TrilogyTrapped TrilogyCOMING SOON (1)DUOLOGIES:The Unnamed DuologyStop; GoSTAND-ALONES:WaterloggedThrough the Dimension of NightmaresWhen the Sky EatsCreatures of the BelowNord and the BordSamenessBuilding MonstersDollhouseThe Vampire's CarnivalKrystal's WorldLabyrinthFiguresMatchCagedList X

Book preview

Chapter 1

I must never take the mask off.

I must never take the mask off, the crowd repeats.

No matter the scoff.

No matter the scoff.

No matter the torment, no matter the pain.

No matter the torment, no matter the pain.

Taking off this mask will admit that I’m vain.

Taking off this mask will admit that I’m vain.

It’s long past that dark and traumatic night of the man in the mask. Becca is ready to receive her teen mask, ready to choose her side. The Dark Clan or the Light Clan.

The Dark Clan is mysterious and the trouble to the obedient. They purposely create chaos and malevolence in the world. Most of them are mentally unstable or downright stupid.

The Light Clan is quite contrary. They keep the peace and keep busy fighting against the Dark Clan, nonviolently, of course. These characters are majestic and intelligent, and everything they do is for good. Being on the Light Clan will, piece by piece, pull your mask back to where you can finally take it off when you die.

The Dark Clan’s masks seem to grow over time. They become shrouded by black cloth, starting by attaching it to their masks and working their way down their body. A fully cloaked Dark Clan member can mean one of two things. One: they’re old and getting close to dying, or two: they’re young and they’ve gotten into trouble more times than they should have.

The second is the one to fear.

This mask is to hide the shame of the terrible, horrible things you have done in your past. Know this as you switch masks behind this curtain, the man in the white mask standing behind the podium sweeps his arm across the stage, motioning to curtain behind him. Behind it, there are two piles of masks. Many of you have pondered this decision, and many of you are still wondering which one you should choose. Once you are back there, you must pick a mask. They are plain and ordinary, and the only difference is one is black and one is white. Trust yourself and your heart, and choose. Once you have chosen, you can use the mirror for one hour in the next room to decorate it.

The crowd is silent, trained not to speak unless told to do so.

"With each mask, comes a different responsibility. Break any of the rules, and you will be stripped of your mask and placed in the Dark Clan, should you pick the Light. After that, they will put you on trial and decide your fate for you.

Now, we begin.

One by one, Becca watches as the seats beside her empty. Each person goes up onto the stage and walks out in either mask, the crowd clapping politely. They then disappear behind a door to the left of the stage, off to decorate the mask.

The decoration of the mask is more for identification, rather than show. Becca had always loved that part because she felt she was free to do something of her own. The mask she wears has always been hers, and it’s a reflection of who she is behind the mask.

Becca Reed, the man announces. 

Slowly, she makes her way to the stage, feeling all of the mask-framed eyes following her every movement. She counts the steps as she makes her way up them, and looks up at the man in the full white mask. He nods and she moves the heavy curtain aside, making a slit big enough for her to slip through.

Behind the big curtain, there are two piles of masks. A white pile and a black pile. Before them are two tables with a sheet of paper and a pen placed neatly on its surface.

Her feet are heavy, weighed down by this important decision. It’ll change her life.

Becca has never been a troublemaker of any kind. She followed the rules and was always on time to everything. She never talked back, never set things on fire, and she never ever wanted to do any of what the black masks do either.

But she has broken rules by accident before. She had taken off her mask.

As she reaches the tables that hold her future, she glances over at the black pile. Being in the Dark Clan was a dangerous decision, deadly even. That group is for the insane, for the rejects, for the rule breakers. Becca would never fit in, should she choose that side.

The image of the man in black appears in her mind as she stares at the pile, and she looks away quickly. Nothing will mess up today. Today is the most important decision of her life.

Becca glances down at the tables. Dark Clan – Name and Light Clan – Name are placed at the top of each paper in bold print. Below the words, numbers line themselves down the page like little army men, and off to the side sit names of the students that had gone before her. There are more names on the Light side, of course. No one wants to choose the Dark Clan by choice. The sad part of it is that most of them will break a rule and be excluded from the clan within the next year or so, or at least that’s what Becca and her class was told.

She picks up the pen and glances over at the black pile one last time. A shudder goes through her as she brings the pen down to touch the paper. She will never be like the man was that night she threw her mask on the ground.

Becca stands up after making sure she spelled her name correctly (mind you, she’s very nervous, very nervous indeed). She reaches up and unties the knot that wraps around her brown hair to hold the mask in place.

The cool air touches the skin that’s been hidden underneath the hot mask, and she sighs. She hates wearing the mask, she always has, but she doesn’t want to break the rules, doesn’t want to make anybody mad.

Becca drops the mask to the ground, the sound bringing back the traumatic memory again. She stands still for a moment to collect her thoughts and calm down.

The white pile seems to welcome her as she looks upon the masks. Most of them are of a person smiling, and only a few of them have huge, dramatic frowns. These masks are different than the adult masks because they have bigger eyeholes and you are able to see your mouth. Once she reaches the adult stage in her life, she will acquire a new mask, one with smaller eyeholes that have tinted glass in them and without a hole for her mouth to be seen.

She walks towards the pile, trying to decide which face she wants. This will be her face for the next five years, until she turns eighteen.

Becca reaches for a face that reminds her of a doll.

Her wrist is seized by a black clothed hand.

She shrieks and tries to twist her arm away from the stone-grip. The masks slowly fall away from the figure as it stands up.

You’re choosing the wrong pile, the voice behind the mask slithers down to her ears as she realizes it’s the same man who scared her in the alleyway. "Choose the black pile. You need to choose the black pile!"

He starts to pull her over to the other pile and he reaches for the first black mask he sees. Becca still clutches the white mask with her left hand for her life, as if it could save her.

The man takes the mask and looks at Becca’s bare face. She doesn’t understand. Why her?

Oh, Becca, the man coos. "Oh, Becca, Becca, Becca. You’re not pure. No, you’re not pure. You need a black mask. You can’t have the white mask."

Help! Becca cries, finally finding her voice. "Somebody help!"

The curtain is flung aside and the man with the full white mask comes in. He hesitates as he takes in the scene before him.

Unhand that girl, he demands, and the man looks at him. Unhand that girl right now!

No, the man in black hisses. "No, she needs to be with me. She needs to be a black mask!"

The man in the white mask charges forward and reaches out to rip the hand from Becca’s wrist. Before he can lay a finger on the man in black, he lets go of Becca, laughing.

"You all deserve the black masks."

The man in black turns and walks away, leaving Becca shaking in terror and with tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Why hadn’t she done anything? Why hadn’t she run?

I froze, she thinks. I froze just like I did in the alleyway.

Becca looks down at the white mask in her hand. She had been gripping it so hard that a piece from the top of the forehead was broken off and crumbling in her hands.

The man in the white mask turns to her and she hears him sigh from behind his mask.

Why did he do that…? Becca whispers to the man. Why did he do that to me…?

The man places his hands on her shoulders and looks into her eyes, as far as Becca can tell through the tinted glass in the eyeholes.

Because he’s part of the Dark Clan. He’s mentally unstable. The man looks down at the mask she holds in her hands and touches the place it was broken. I suggest you do everything you can to not become one of them, especially while he’s still alive, Becca Reed.

She nods, and he helps her with her mask, tying it in a tight knot behind her head. She pulls the brown hairs that had gotten caught in the ribbon out and flattens them down.

The man nods, as if in approval, and walks back out on the stage with her, as if nothing had happened at all.

Chapter 2

Becca sits in her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes find a long, dark crack and follow it down the paleness of the pant in the darkness of the night.

She can’t sleep. Today’s events have pulled her back to the memory of when she was a child, and the feelings that come with that are not pleasant ones.

The moonlight streams past a building and into her tall window, creating an eerie shadow on the floor of her bedroom. Every now and then, she shifts her eyes from the window to the shadow, as if she was waiting for it to move.

She adjusts her mask. It doesn’t sit right in her face just yet, but it will soon, once her face has lost its chub.

Her eyes grow heavy with sleep, although she doesn’t want to close them, doesn’t want the vulnerability of blindness. Her brain still prickles with the thought of the man in the black and her body tingles with the anticipation of not being able to see if anyone comes in, although that is an unlikely thought to have.

Becca loses the fight to stay awake, and her eyes slide shut. Eventually, she begins to dream.

She stands in a garden, green surrounding her everywhere. Tall trees stretch far above her and bright sunlight streams down onto her face. Flowers of yellows and reds and purples dance in the gentle wind as birds chirp and fly overhead, the beating of their wings adding to the symphony of sounds around her.

Becca is not alone in the garden, though.

There are many people around, white masks and black masks seeming to almost dance as they walk on the twisting dirt walkways, laughing and conversing with each other in pure happiness and gee.

Becca starts to walk down the path as well, in the opposite direction of everyone else. No one notices her as the crowd swells past her and to a grand fountain in the heart of the garden.

She comes across two trees, both of them standing tall and proud. They are the exact same tree, as if they are a reflection of each other. Each leaf is in the same spot and each branch hanging below the greenery on top are exactly the same.

She makes her way over to them curiously, wondering if she’s seeing things.

Two birds fly quickly from the tops of the trees. They appear from the same spot and fly the same path over Becca’s head.

Hm… She thinks aloud, curious but afraid to ask questions.

As she passes between the trees she looks up to see the sun splotching through the trees and trickling down onto her skin, creating patterns that remind her of a cheetah or a jaguar.

She turns to look straight ahead as she passes the twin trees and sees a mirror. It’s about as tall as she stands and only about as wide as her shoulders. The image of her reflection is blurry, as if her eyes are not focused on the image, but rather something in the background.

With each step, the picture is clearer, each fold in her colorful fabric that she wears for pajamas clarifying and each crease in her skin becoming visible. She looks at her face and her heart starts to race.

Her reflection doesn’t have a mask on.

Becca reaches up to