Masque of the Red Death entry

I've always wondered what it would feel like to take my serving tray and whip it across the face of the first bitch on my shift. I imagined it every day, but each of them had different outcomes. I'd get thrown out, my co-workers would applaud, or...I'd wake up. My alarm clock was always a reminder that it did not happen, because I wouldn't have set it for the next morning. She was always there; a different person, but a bitch nonetheless. Sometimes she was a businesswoman, a teacher, or a housewife. They were all stressed about something in their lives and they found it acceptable to take it out on me.

"Why don't you quit?" my friend asked.

"Why? Because bitches are a dime-a-dozen, they'd find me anywhere," I replied. With a sigh I said, "This isn't working. I add the money to my savings but somehow I find myself taking it back out. My rent increased and my family keeps holding out on what they owe me."

I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned to meet eyes with my manager. She held up her wrist to show me her watch; signaling that my break was over. I nodded to her and said goodbye to the female on my cell phone before I hung up. Martha frowned at me in pity. "Is everything all right?" she questioned.

I faked a smile, but I had a feeling that it looked more like a grimace. "Yeah," I answered. I walked passed her and went inside the diner through the back door. She followed close behind but didn't say anything else; one of the reasons why I liked her. Generally I didn't like people, but there was an occasional someone that stayed on my good side. I breathed in deeply and checked my dark red uniform for any imperfections before I stepped out onto the floor. I glanced at the host named Dan and he pointed at an occupied booth; filled with only one person.

It was the woman from my latest dream. She came in last week with the most memorable attitude; she complained that her water was too cold, there wasn't enough ice in her diet soda, and the salt shaker was fuller than the pepper shaker. I could have sworn that she had OCD. She wore a suit that night, but today she was in sweats which made me question if I recognized her correctly.

I watched as she grabbed the salt shaker, unscrewed the cap and poured some of it onto her open napkin. She held the bottle next to the one that contained pepper before she poured out some more and put the cap back on. Yep that's her, I thought. I took out my notepad and pen and then walked over to her.

"What can I-"

"Oh good, you are here," she stated in a relieved voice.

I didn't acknowledge the fact that she interrupted me because of her kind tone. "Pardon?"

The dark-haired female stared up at me with a solemn expression. "I felt so bad about last week, I treated you like crap. I'm very sorry," she apologized.

I couldn't help but stare back in astonishment. It was the very first time one of my rude customers actually cared to see me again; just to apologize. After a few moments with my own thoughts I smiled and told her, "Thank you, apology accepted." I happily clicked my pen and asked, "What can I get you?"

"I won't be here long. A diet soda would be just fine."

"How many ice cubes?" I questioned. The woman seemed taken aback at first, but then she smiled and held up four fingers. I nodded and put my notepad and pen away before I reached for the napkin covered in salt. "Can I get this out of your way?"

"Sure, sorry about that," she stated sheepishly.

"No worries," I responded. I folded it up and held it tightly in my hand before I walked into the kitchen. I tossed it into the trash and got her beverage right away. However, when I returned to her table I found that she was gone. I sighed quietly in frustration and begun to turn away until something caught my eye. Behind the salt shaker was an ivory envelope. I glanced around and set the glass of diet soda down before I reached forward and grabbed it. I turned it over and in perfect, elegant cursive was my name.

"The serial killer known as 'The Red Death' has been absent for several weeks. His current murder count is forty-seven. The authorities still haven't discovered his pattern; as of right now anyone is at risk. Remember to lock your doors and windows, and take extra precautions," said the anchorman on the television that hung above the bar-like counter. "I'm Nick Zero, and this is Kite City News."

"I'll never understand people like that," Dan said from behind me. My body jerked in surprise and I turned to him; while trying to hide the envelope. He didn't seem to notice. "Didn't mean to scare ya."

I decided to acknowledge his first statement only. "Yeah, me either," I agreed. "Do you know where the woman went?"

Dan stared at me in utter confusion. "What woman? We've been dead for half an hour."

"Impossible," I replied. "She was sitting right here, you even pointed to her."

"You feeling alright, Bridge?" he questioned. "I think Martha will let you go home early."

"But..." I was confused beyond all reason. How could I have imagined the whole interaction? I could still feel the envelope between my fingers. I decided that I must be under too much stress and I shook my head. "I'm fine, I guess I'm just tired," I told him. He touched my shoulder with a smile; attempting to comfort me. It failed, but I didn't let him know that as I smiled back. When he left, I turned around to face the salt and pepper shakers. They were perfectly level. I sighed and rubbed my tired eyes before I dumped the diet soda into the kitchen sink.

When I approached the driveway in my Honda Civic-passed down by my dad-I realized my friend had stopped by. Oh I forgot, it's game night, I thought. With a sigh I swung my chain of keys around my index finger before I walked through the front door. "Hey Kristi," I said to the woman on the couch.

"Hey!" she removed her laptop from her lap and stood from the sofa. She then frowned and stared at me in concern. "You okay? Did you have another bad customer?"

"I'm okay, just tired," I responded. I tossed my keys into the dish that sat upon the small table beside the door. I looked at the television and realized she already had the Xbox 360 set up to play 'Alan Wake'. "I'll just be a minute."

"Take your time," Kristi told me with a smile before she returned to her computer. I lazily climbed the stairs to my room and took my tips out of my uniform pocket and then tossed them onto my bed before I stripped down to my underwear. I grabbed my green pajamas from my dresser drawer and put them on, and then walked into the master bathroom included in my room. I hovered over the sink and rinsed my face with cold water; which caused me to shudder. I avoided my reflection in the mirror; I feared what I might see. Kristi could clearly see something was bothering me just by staring at me in the face. I could never tell her though; I could never tell her what I read in that envelope.

I got into my car with the envelope in hand when the diner closed. I didn't even bother to start the engine first when I ripped it open, pulled the letter out and unfolded it impatiently. The thick paper was also ivory, but it had a decorative red border with swirls that went this way and that. If I stared for too long I felt as though I'd become dizzy. I started to read the text; it was also in perfect, elegant cursive.

Dear Bridgette Montello,

Please accept this invitation to the masquerade ball at the Prospero Castle. This is your only chance to change your life as you know it. Should you decide to reject this invitation, you would surely regret it.

This ball will be taken place on October 31st. Please confirm your acceptance immediately by dialing 646-3106

P.S. May your decision be wise.

I stared in confusion at the frightening, hand-written message at the bottom. It was in red ink, unlike the rest of the letter that was printed in gold. The statement alone sounded like a threat. I thought: is this for real? I reread it several times before I grabbed my cell phone and dialed the number.

A familiar, female voice picked up and asked, "Bridgette Montello?"

My breath hitched in my throat. My heart started to pound before I replied, "Y-yes?"

"Thank you very much for accepting the invitation," she stated in an emotionless voice. "Please state your current residence for your attire to be delivered."

I blinked in confusion. Attire? Couldn't I dress myself? I let out a shaky nervous breath before I told her my address. The woman thanked me again before the line went dead.

"Bridgette! Are you ready?!" Kristi called from downstairs. It was then I heard the doorbell, and another shout from the female. "I'll get it!" I stood in silence for a few moments and heard her speak again. "Can I help y-"

I turned toward my bedroom door in confusion. Kristi's voice suddenly cut off and there were no following sounds. I called her name but there was no response. In a heat of panic I ran downstairs and noticed the front door was still open, but there wasn't anyone around. There was however, a rather large box on the doorstep. It was dark red with a gold ribbon; the same colors from the invitation. I gripped the stairs' railing tightly as my heart pounded into my approaching headache. Slowly, I approached the doorway and picked up the note attached to the package. I hesitated before I lifted the fold and read the very same writing I feared most.

You shall be rewarded.

Tears filled my eyes and I carelessly dropped the note as I ran outside and then screamed my best friend's name. I noticed her car was still in the driveway which proved my suspicions. They took her, they took her, they took her, I repeated in my mind. I sank to my knees in my front yard and sobbed. Mere minutes felt like hours as I sat there and cried. I couldn't finish however as my house phone began to ring. I wiped my nose on my sleeve before I rushed back inside and picked it up. I didn't bother to say anything.

"We apologize for our rash actions. We like to ensure that you will arrive without question," the female voice said. "When you do, your friend will be released immediately." Her last statement sounded a bit sinister, "Do not worry, she is in safe hands."

"Why you son of a-" the line went dead again before I could finish. I threw the wireless object on the floor and watched as the battery flew out and went the other way. I stomped to the entrance and grabbed the box before I tossed it onto the couch and then slammed the door. I leaned my back against it, slid down onto the tile and broke into tears again. Why was this happening? I was a good person, a good friend to Kristi, but why did they have to take her away from me? I always felt so incomplete without her; I didn't know how I would be able to get off of the floor.

But I did, I climbed into my bed and cried myself to sleep. The ball was tomorrow night; the sick bastards sure knew how to cut things close. If going to the party was the only way to save the one I loved, then I will play their game and go.

There was a constant buzz. It hummed, over and over. My eyes fought to stay closed; I was so tired...

It was then I remembered what happened last night. Kristi was gone, and I had to go to a fucking party to get her back. I jumped out from my sheets and grabbed my cell phone out from my work clothes that still lay on the floor. To my surprise, it was a text message from an unknown sender. It read: I hope you like it.

I stared in confusion as I reread it several times. They hope I like what? I shook my head and tossed the phone onto my bed before I walked into the bathroom. I stole a glance into my mirror, screamed and ducked from sight. My mind had to have tricked me, it had to. Slowly, I rose from my crouch on the floor and stared at my reflection. The top of my hair was tied back while the rest of it flowed into waves. I turned my head this way and that while my expression displayed disbelief.

"How the hell..." I whispered. It was then I realized: they were in my house. They were in my house and they did my fucking hair, I thought. I heard the buzz again; the taunting hum that came from my phone. I growled in frustration and stomped over to it before I read the new message: Put on the dress.

Angry, I replied with: Or what?

The reply came almost instantly. It was a video. Hesitantly, I pressed play. I placed my hand over my mouth at the sight of my best friend tied to a chair in a dark room; hunched over. And judging by her slight movements; she was crying. Quickly I replied with "I understand" before I dropped my phone back onto the bed and walked downstairs.

I stared at the box for a long moment. It was quite the contradiction; I adored red, but I didn't like gold very much. I scoffed before I walked over to it on the couch and pulled the ugly ribbon off, and then opened the container. My mouth dropped when I saw what was inside. Gently I pulled out the beautiful eye mask. It was black and white; on the forehead was a glass jewel the size of a quarter and above it was six long black feathers attached. The design beneath the holes of the eyes looked exquisite; they were wavy vines with thorns and tiny leaves. It certainly wasn't from a cheap Halloween store. I set it aside before I stood up and pulled the dress out. It looked like a Victorian ball gown. It was black and white; completely covered in vertical stripes. At the end of the long sleeves were cuffs of black and white lace; which matched the wide neckline that was also lined with the lace and it followed down and out on the overdress with a polonaise style skirt. With a small sigh I took it with me back upstairs.

I stared at myself in the mirror for a few moments. Funny how it required a kidnapping to end up in the most beautiful dress I've ever worn. Once again my phone hummed and I looked over my shoulder at it. I shook my head before I went over and read the new text: Look outside.

I frowned and trotted over to my large window and then pulled aside the curtain. To my surprise it was evening. Just how long was I asleep? They probably drugged me, I thought. I heard a whiney, and my eyes moved downward to the street. "You have got to be kidding me," I said to myself aloud.

Right in front of my home was a horse-drawn carriage. The two horses were white while the carriage was black with dark, almost unnoticeable red wheels. A man wearing a suit and a top hat held the reigns and a woman stood in front of the carriage door with something flat and rectangular in her arms. I furrowed my eyebrows as I tried to make out what it was until the woman held out her hand and gestured me to come to her. I sighed deeply and obliged; not without grabbing the mask first.

I locked the door behind me and approached the female, but then I paused when I recognized her. She's the one from the diner, I thought. Enraged, I ran toward her and shouted "You son of a bitch!"

The object in her arms turned out to be a laptop as she opened it up and showed a live feed of Kristi; still tied to the chair. She was no longer hunched over as she stared directly into the camera and pleaded, "Let me go, please...I didn't do anything, why am I here? Let me go!"

Defeated, I lowered my head. The computer was slapped closed and the woman opened the door and then held out her hand. Reluctantly I took it as she helped me inside before she followed. She sat across from me and stared with a blank expression. "Your host wishes for me to do your makeup," she announced before she pulled out a small purse.

"Fine," I agreed. The horses' hooves click-clacked against the ground when they started to pull the carriage along. The woman simply put red lipstick and black mascara on me before she helped me with my mask. She tied the ribbons attached to it together in a small bow on the back of my head before she adjusted the feathers slightly.

"You look nice," she said in an emotionless tone. I realized that she was the voice on the phone.

"You're lucky I can't pop you in your damn jaw," I replied scornfully.

The female said nothing.