 
Hiding Behind A Mask

By K. Weikel

Hiding Behind A Mask

K. Weikel

Published by K. Weikel at Smashwords

Copyright © 2014 by K. Weikel

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For everyone

who has helped me

live out my dream

Intro

The moon cascades over the dark alleyway as young little Becca tries to adjust her mask. She had just recently been given her first one. It's not as large as the adults, what with it just barely covering her cheeks, but soon it will be. As her burdens and life piles on top of her, her mask shall get bigger and cover more of her shameful face.

She doesn't see the dark shadow slowly slinking behind her. His face is completely covered by a black mask, symbolizing him as being in the Dark Clan.

He wears a cloak that swirls around him as the frigid air bites at his figure, watching and waiting for something to happen to her.

He knows her. He always has, ever since she was a baby. Since she was Maskless.

His footsteps fall lightly as Becca busies herself with her mask again. Suddenly, she stops and pulls at the strings that hold it to her head.

"I hate this!" She cries as the mask that she is never allowed to take off falls to the cement.

Suddenly a black gloved hand is on her and shaking her wildly.

"What have you done?" The strange masked man cries from behind the plastic. "Put it back on!"

Frightened, Becca turns and tries to run away, but the man in the mask holds onto her, his hand cutting off her circulation.

"Put it back on!" He screams. "Put it back on, Becca!"

Tears fall from her eyes as the fear inside of her explodes outward. The man picks up the mask hastily and shoves it onto her face. Becca cries out in pain as he screams at her again.

Suddenly, he stops yelling and takes a step back, still holding on to her wrist.

"Oh," he says softly, sweetly. "That's better."

The masked man turns and walks away from the terrified little girl.

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 touch her face. The maskless reflection copies her. Becca has her mask on, but why is it not appearing in the mirror?

Becca's reflection smiles wickedly at her, the corners of her mouth twisting up in an unnatural position as she reaches forward, her hands stretching the mirror like melting metal as they begin to protrude from the glass.

Scared, Becca backs away as the glass begins to pull back and scrape down the skin of the long fingers. They begin to bleed, dripping blood onto the green grass underneath them, and the reflection keeps the painted on smile as her eyes radiate with fire and fury.

Becca bumps into something standing behind her as she tries to get away from the terrifying mirror.

A man in a white mask with a golden pattern that reminds Becca of a vine, and dark leather clothes that covers his body stares down at her. On his mask is a sinister smile and the eyeholes are pitch black.

She starts to tremble with increasing fear and she takes a few steps away from him, almost forgetting about the mirror behind her.

The man starts to laugh as if someone had told a funny joke. Other people with white masks appear around them in a wide circle, all closing in and laughing as if they had seen something funny. Their masks start to shift quickly from bright white to a dark gray color as she watches them chuckle and squeal at nothing.

Becca feels the cold hands on her shoulders from the mirror and she screams as her mask falls from her face. The laughing stops immediately and the man with the white mask charges forward, as if he were to either attack her or save her. Becca can't tell...

But the hands from the mirror are too fast for the man, too strong. He doesn't even make it half way to her before they drag Becca through the mirrors' surface.

She stands now, the hands gone, looking at the crowd of people, as if it were a window. The hairs on her neck are standing up and goose bumps start covering her skin, a prickling sensation running through her body. She can feel eyes on her. She doesn't want to turn around. She's not alone in this space—wherever she is.

The crowd of people through the mirror-window disintegrates in swells of laughter, and the man in the white mask stares at her for a moment before tuning to go as well, joining in with the laughter and conversation.

"Becca..." Something whispers by her ear.

She turns quickly, but sees nothing.

Her heart pounds in her chest like a drum as she looks around the room. It's dark inside and each of the brick walls are painted black. A single light shines down dimly from the ceiling, but strangely there is nothing there to give off that light. There are no doors, no windows... the only thing that suggests this place is even remotely real is the mirror-window... but that isn't real either, and Becca knows it.

The room is empty but she hears voices echo and bounce off the walls. Her name swirls around her in whispers that slice through the air like knives, making Becca's insides feel gnarled and tangled, and her blood run as cold as ice. She can feel that something isn't right about this place.

And then the masks appear.

Black masks form from the ground begin to appear from the walls, hundreds of them dripping as if they are covered with wet black paint. Their faces are all different, some sad and most terrifying. Transparent black-cloaked bodies gradually appear underneath them as they get closer, and the holes where the eyes go turn black as night. They continue to creep toward Becca, who feels tears start to fall from her eyes.

"Becca Reed," She hears.

She jumps, and a small guttural noise escapes her mouth as she falls to the floor, pressing her back against the wall that holds the mirror-window.

The man with the white mask stands above her.

"Becca Reed," He hisses, his voice indistinct. "You are no good. You will be bad."

Becca stares at him, a new sense of fear washing over her. How did he get in here? Though the mirror? He couldn't have... her back has been almost against it the entire time...

"You will mess up," He goes on. "You are not perfect."

"I—I chose the white mask," She says, her voice a higher pitch than normal. "I can do it."

The man chuckles softly, evilly. "No you can't."

"I can!" She shouts.

The mirror suddenly shatters behind her, glass pieces falling into her hair and onto her shoulders. She covers the top of her head and looks behind her once it stops, only to see the frame of the mirror with a brick wall inside of it. There's no way out.

The room begins to shake as the masks start to grow. They grow bigger and bigger and the room stretches taller and wider. Becca feels so small... she's like an ant...

The man with the white mask and dark clothes stands in front of her now, instead of by her side. His hands are on his hips and he shakes his head, his laughter distorted by the mask.

"You will fail," He says. "And they will get you."

The masks dive forward and slam into her body.

Becca jerks awake, screaming, sweat pooling on her forehead and her heart beating in her ears. The blankets are twisted around her like a cocoon and the room is still dark with nighttime. The shadow still lingers on the floor, still and silent as a shadow is supposed to be, and that comforts her a bit as her eyes stay glued to it.

And then it moves.

Chapter 3

School the next day is somewhat hard for Becca. Her group of friends had been split down the middle yesterday, half of them joining the Dark Clan and the other half joining her on the Light.

Her newly black masked friends start tormenting the Becca and her white masked friends. It's only the first day, and they're already starting to act like somebody on the Dark Clan. They're prideful, boastful, and they make fun of every little thing about the people that are on the Light Clan. She wishes she could tell them off and tell them to leave her alone, but she'd lose her mask for that... and that's not an option.

She shuffles down the long, dimly lit, white-walled hallways of the school, tan doors interrupting the green metal lockers on either side of her. People slide in and out of the rooms at different times, and fully masked adults walk past the kids as they nod to the ones that had chosen the same color mask as them.

Becca's heart flutters in her chest. Today is the day she learns what it takes to stay on the Light Clan.

She makes her way to the end of the hall. A huge set of gray double doors stands before her with handles that you have to push to open them.

Behind the doors is the auditorium where Becca had chosen her clan. It has blue velvet seats all along the floor and a large stage painted black on the opposite side of the room. The bottom of the large blue curtain hangs along the front of the stage, while the top is way up high on the dome-shaped ceiling, looking like it weighs a thousand pounds. The walls of the room are rounded, and the lights hanging every few feet on the light paint glow brightly. The space gives Becca the sensation of freedom and it makes her feel like she has room to breathe.

It's a big contrast to what the school looks like. The Clans don't care about education as much as how the society works. Kids can fail classes and they wouldn't care, as long as they didn't take off the masks.

A few other kids in white masks turn around to see who it is that is coming into the auditorium, and then turn back around.

Becca walks down one of the walkways and sits beside a boy who is writing vigorously in a spiral with his left hand. He has multiple blue triangles all over his mask, gradually getting lighter and turning to white as they make their way to the center. It reminds Becca of the sky as it gets closer to the sun, how it gets lighter as it nears it, except the sky doesn't have triangles on it.

He glances up at her and moves a little bit so she can't see what he's writing.

"What is that?" She asks, feeling a little bit nosy.

"Nothing," the boy turns a little bit more, keeping his eyes away from her. "It's none of your business, anyway."

"But I'm only asking what it is. Is it something bad?" She presses absentmindedly.

"Are my own thoughts bad?" He snaps and turns his back towards her. He doesn't talk to her anymore after that, and she's almost glad he doesn't. Arguing could land you in the Dark Clan.

Becca turns to the front as more kids stream in from the halls, wearing all kinds of bright colored clothes and their decorated white masks. Their mouths, not yet covered, move and smile as they talk and laugh to one another and get comfortable in different seats around the room.

The curtains make their way to each other, meeting in the middle of the stage and the lights go down all of the way, leaving the audience of masked children hidden in the dark.

A perfectly rounded spotlight flashes on and Becca stops breathing.

It's the man from her dream—her nightmare.

"Hello everyone." His voice sends cold chills of fear down her spine. "Today is the day you will learn how to stay in the Light clan. I am Quill Henson, the leader of both sides. The Leader of the Clans."

Is that possible? Becca finds herself thinking.

"I will bring one of you up here to demonstrate."

Demonstrate?

She looks around the room to see if any of the kids she grew up with stand out in any way, shape, or form, but she sees no one out of the ordinary. Everyone is acting just as she is, looking for the victim that will be called up onto the big stage.

"You."

She snaps her head forward, and her heart starts to beat quickly. Her breathing becomes shallow as she realizes he's pointing at her. He's pointing to her.

"Boy."

No, not her. It only looked like he had been pointing to her, when in fact he was pointing to the boy sitting next to her with the blue and white mask. His head snaps up and his eyes widen behind his mask. He sets the journal down on the floor beneath his seat and stands up. Becca can see his hands shaking, although he tries to hide his fear as his mouth forms a straight line.

Slowly, he makes his way up to the stage, each step seeming increasingly excruciating. The man in the white mask and dark clothes, Quill, takes the boy gently by the arm and turns him around to face his classmates.

"Everyone has at least a little bad inside of them. There is always going to be evil as long as goodness lives on. It's that battle between light and darkness that our culture has really brought out, so much so, that other countries have followed suit to us.

"Now, what does it take to stay in the Light Clan? Very little people make it their entire lives and are able to take the mask off piece by piece and eventually be buried, not with their mask, but with their face. It is something we strive for, the one thing that we want to happen before we die.

"The only way you can do this is by living a good life. A pure life. One of respect, responsibility, satisfaction, obedience, and humility. Break any one of these and you will be removed from the Light Clan. From there, as said at your masking, you will be tried by the Dark Clan.

"Tell me your name," he says to the boy standing next to him.

"Eduard."

"Eduard what?"

"Millen. Eduard Millen."

"Good, good. Now, tell me, Eduard Millen, have you ever made a mistake?"

"Yes," he mumbles, looking at the floor. Becca can hear the embarrassment in his voice from where she sits.

"To live as a Light Clan member, can you ever make a mistake again?"

"No, sir."

"And how does that happen?" The man in the white mask asks.

"Go to school?" The boy asks, not knowing the answer.

The man laughs as he did in Becca's dream. She shudders.

"Close," he says. "But no. You have to think about every decision you make and every word you say before they come to life."

"Oh..." the boy sighs, nodding his head. "So what if I make a mistake?"

"I just told you."

"But what if I make a mistake? What are the options when I go to court in the Dark Clan? What are the verdicts, or whatever they're called?"

The man nods slowly and chuckles.

"Guilty."

"So I can't be proven innocent?" The boy exclaims, and Becca can tell he's getting angry. "What if I didn't do it?"

The man shrugs. "Have a good life inside the Dark Clan."

"That's stupid!" The boy shouts and the man turns to him. Becca gets a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach by the way the man shifts his weight. Did the boy make a mistake? She feels her breathing increase as her strange feeling of nervousness for this boy explodes inside of her and as her stomach gets queasy.

The man shakes his head and laughs again.

"And the ironic thing is, is that I will be the one judging you and proclaiming you guilty. I'll see you there later, boy."

"What?" The boy asks in shock.

The crowd of kids gasp and start to talk amongst themselves, realizing what just happened right in front of their eyes.

"Get ready for a ride," the man laughs.

Several people in black covering their entire bodies with various black masks emerge from the sides of the auditorium, unseen before, and sweep in to grab the boy from the stage. He shouts and cries for help as they drag him down the steps in front of the stage and through the walkways between the chairs. His cries are heard as they open the doors, letting light flood into the auditorium, and as they walk into the hallway, laughing madly over the boy's voice.

Becca is the last one to turn around and face the stage after the doors slam closed, the black masks disappearing from view and their voices slipping from her hearing range, her throat feeling like it's full of cotton balls.

She just watched someone have their life ripped out from underneath them.

"Any other questions?"
Chapter 4

The group of kids in the auditorium is dismissed as the spotlight goes out and the lights placed around the room fade on. Becca is the last one out. She's shoved in every which way as the new Dark Clan members rush in laughing and cruelly try to make her fall over. One of them succeeds, and she tumbles into someone else. When she turns around to apologize, she feels her blood run cold.

It's the man in all black.

He kneels down beside her, his plain black mask getting closer to her. A small whimper makes its way from her mouth and she feels a knee hit her head, jerking her forward. She's almost touching the mask now.

"Please..." She whispers, trying to make her voice work. "Please leave me alone."

He turns his head to the side like a curious dog.

"Why?" He asks. "I don't want to."

Becca takes a shaky breath.

"Why?" She squeaks.

"Because you're wrong. You need help. You can't do it on your own."

"What—"

He reaches up and pulls at her mask, the knot tied behind her head slipping with each tug. Becca screams and tries to push his black-gloved hands away, but her arms aren't strong enough.

"Let go!" She squeals.

"You're wrong. You need help." The man hisses.

"Banshee!"

The man in black suddenly lets go of Becca's mask and slowly turns around. Behind him stands the man in the white mask and dark clothes, the man named Quill.

Becca's insides twist and she suddenly wants to throw up.

"Leave this poor girl alone."

"But Leader, she is wrong—"

"Maybe she is," Quill says and looks at Becca. Her heart pounds so hard she can barely hear him. "But you don't know that for sure, now do you, Banshee?"

The man in black hesitates for a moment, and then responds by shaking his head back and forth like a child.

"Alright, now leave her alone."

Banshee ducks his head as he stands up, and nods quickly before walking briskly down the long hallways of the school.

Quill takes another step towards Becca and holds his hand out for her to take it. She doesn't tear her eyes from the man's mask as he helps her stand up.

"What's your name?" Quill asks, pulling his hand back.

"Becca Reed," She chokes out. Fear has taken over her and she can't move. Her body tingles as the blood rushes through it faster than normal from her pumping heart, which feels like it's about to burst from her chest and onto the floor in front of her. Her stomach feels like it a churning sea, and her brain has turned itself off, making her wordless and blank like a piece of paper.

"Becca Reed," He says to himself. "I'll remember that. If Banshee bothers you again, find me and I'll take care of him."

She nods stiffly and the man walks off.

Her feet are glued to the floor and she can barely breathe. What if he does? If she tells him, will she get in trouble and then become a part of the Dark clan like how the boy did? Or if he does and she doesn't tell him like he told her to, would she still be sent there for disobeying him?

Becca runs her shaky hands through her hair absentmindedly. She closes her eyes and breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth, trying to calm down.

Banshee never bothered her again. She had her fourteenth birthday in the winter, and her parents threw a small party for her. Fifteenth birthday tagged along behind it the next year, and then the sixteenth. The Light Clan has been good to her so far, and she hasn't made one mistake yet. It's really hard to stay on the Light Clan for as long as she has, and many of her friends have fallen from it, joining the Dark Clan.

Another year passes.

It's only a week before her birthday celebration of turning eighteen. She'll receive her full adult mask then, at the exact time she had been born. The mask will cover her entire face.

Becca is walking along a dirt path lined with trees. She had just finished eating lunch at one of the café's her parents used to always take her when she was little. The sun is shining and the birds are singing. There isn't a care in the world for Becca Reed as she smiles from beneath her mask. It had fit her once but now she's outgrowing it. It lifts up a little bit as her cheeks rise and fall beneath the material.

A figure swings out from behind one of the trees as Becca walks by and it stops her dead in her tracks.

"Banshee," she whispers, her body freezing.

His long black cloak drags behind him now as the soft wind ruffles it, making it come alive, and the sleeves cover his hands completely as they limply rest by his sides. The mask is still completely black, and he seems to be staring straight at her through the black glass in the eyeholes.

"Becca," He cocks his head as she begins to back up.

"Leave me alone," She says.

His head turns the other way and the mask moves up a bit, as if he's smiling underneath the mask.

"Becca, you're going to choose wrong." He says, walking forward. "Becca, you need to follow me. Becca, you need to choose the right side."

"I am on the right side," Becca growls. "I fix things and create things, not destroy them and—"

"No, no. You're breaking the rules. You're yelling at me. You're not perfect! Come with me. Don't make me force you to. Come. Now."

"Leave me alone!" She cries as she turns to walk away.

"You're wrong. You're dark. You belong on the Dark Clan. You're wrong. Becca, you're wrong. Be right. Be right, Becca!"

Becca covers her ears but she can still hear his screams.

"You will fail! You will fail, Becca, and no one will help you! You will fall! Without me you will fail! You'll be alone!"

She starts to run.

"You'll be alone!"

Becca sprints all of the way home, her heart pounding and her head spinning. Banshee has reappeared... he was instructed not to by Quill...

Should she tell Quill? What would he do to Banshee if she does? To her? Should she tell him?

She shakes her head and makes up her mind.

She's going to keep her mouth shut.

But what if she can't? What if Banshee is right? What if she belongs on the other side?

"No," she says, sitting on the floor of her room. "No I belong here. On the Light Clan."

But something tugs at the back of her mind.

What if she's wrong?
Chapter 5

The week passes by slowly as Becca waits eagerly to be fully masked.

Her parents walk her down to the garden at the edge of town, their white masks seeming to glitter in the sunlight. They talk about the future and go over the rules Becca has heard and learned about in school since she received her mask when she turned thirteen.

The sunlight shines through the leaves and down onto the surface of her mask. She smiles and looks out at all of the different faces on the white masks around her, as the voices beneath them bubble with laughter and light conversation.

Today is her birthday. The excitement runs through her as she waits for the exact time she had been born at, the moment she will be masked.

Three-oh-one pm eighteen years ago was the moment she was born, when she took her first breath and became a part of the city of masks—the society of masked people.

As she glances up from her watch and calculates the minutes until her masking (exactly thirty of them), she sees Quill over by a tree, looking out among the crowd. She still has not told him about the encounter with Banshee, and at the thought of it her nerves spike up inside of her, hoping he won't ask her any questions about Banshee. She'd hate to lie to him...

Becca visits with other people in her clan, constantly checking her watch for the time. The suspense with each passing minute is killing her, and her heart feels like it's going to burst from waiting so long. She tries to move her thoughts away by talking about other things, but she can't help glancing down at her wrist and calculating the moments until she receives her mask.

Her peers around her ask her questions and laugh with her, although she doesn't recognize half of them, and she shares her thoughts on the Light Clan, carefully picking her words so that she doesn't get thrown out on her birthday.

Ten minutes, she can't help but thinking. Ten minutes and then I'll be an adult.

She counts down as the minutes pass.

Just a little bit longer, she tells herself as she looks around.

Something shines to her right in the bright sunlight for a second, and she looks to see what made it.

Becca can see nothing as she peers between two trees that make almost an archway over the twisting dirt path. Something shines into her eyes again, and she excuses herself from the conversation about mask decoration as she blinks to try and get the bright stain the light had made in her vision.

The trees stand high above her, and a bird flies out over the crowd that is now behind Becca. Something moves as she passes the trunks of the trees. As she turns to her left, a body covered in blood falls to the ground, his eyes shut and his mask broken in half as it hangs from his face.

Becca cries out as something grabs her.

A man in a white mask and brown hair sticking out from behind it grabs her by her arms and shakes her, wiping something on her with his rough hands. It's wet and warm and sticky, but she can't take her eyes off of the plain white mask of the man. She can't breathe. She can't think. She's frozen where she stands, even as the man takes a step away from her and looks down at the body lying dead on the ground.

"Becca!" The man suddenly screams. "Becca what have you done?"

A crowd gathers, chatter, gasps, and screams circling around Becca as she stares at the man. That voice...

"Becca you've done wrong! You've done wrong!"

The man backs away as Quill walks out from the midst of the thickening crowd. She hadn't realized how many people came to the party...

"What have you done?" Quill asks, his voice smooth and strangely calm.

Becca looks down at herself. Blood covers her arms and her hands. That's what the man had been wiping on her!

"Quill!" She cries, breathless. "I didn't do it—"

"Yes, yes she did, leader. She did. I saw it. She did wrong."

The man's voice sends chills up her spine.

"He's lying!" She cries, keeping her arms spread out so they won't touch her white dress. She didn't do this. This wasn't her fault. "It was him!"

"A white mask is saying she did it, so it must be the truth!" A woman calls from the front of the crowd. "Oh, Becca..."

Quill marches forward, and she looks down at the blood all over her arms, hands, and dress.

"Becca Reed," Quill says. "Come with me."

"No—no!" She cries, backing up. "I didn't do this!"

She trips over a tree root and falls to the ground, sobs escaping her throat as she realizes this is the end of her life in the Dark Clan.

"You have failed," He says as he towers over her, his shadow blocking what remains of the sun's light as it filters through the leaves from Becca. "I will see you in court."

Becca looks down at herself, the blood covering her white dress. She takes a glance at her watch, at the moment she became part of the Dark Clan.

Three-oh-one pm.

Chapter 6

The courtroom is huge, with its black walls and white seats and lights dangling from the ceiling thirty feet above Becca's head. She sits behind a black desk and in a wooden chair carefully painted white. Black masks seem to almost float on the sides of the room, the jury, as their cloaks blend in with the walls behind them. It reminds her of her dream...

In the seats behind Becca, her parents shake their head disapprovingly and shy away from every movement made by the people wearing the black masks beside them. She doesn't have to see their faces to know that they're disappointed in her, scared of her even... If only they believed her...

At the front of the room is a tall white stand, where she guesses Quill will sit, way up at the top. The chair behind it is pitch black. A big mask with the right side painted white and the left painted black is mounted just above it. The black half of the mask wears a frown and the white half wears a smile. It looks down at her accusingly, and as she stares at it, it seems to almost grow bigger, but she knows it's not actually happening; it's all in her head.

She touches the mask she has never been able to remove, the blood now dried on her pale hands. It smells horrid, and she cringes away as tears leap into her eyes.

This is it, she thinks, feeling a tear fall and stick between her mask and her skin. This is where my life ends.

Quill walks out into the room as he walks up the stairs to the top of his pedestal, the people in the black masks and cloaks clapping and cheering. He raises his hands to silence everyone, and the room dies down as he sits in his big, black chair.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen of the Dark Clan. We are here today to welcome a new member to your lifestyle and to your world. However, if decided by myself and the jury, there is a possibility she will be sentenced to death."

Clapping and creepy laughter echoes throughout the room, sending chills down Becca's spine. She closes her eyes and laces her fingers together, pressing her nails against her skin to keep her from crying out or sobbing.

"As the jury knows, only a white mask can accuse someone of a crime. This is what has happened to the girl before you. Her name is Becca Reed, and she has been accused of murdering another white mask, Marlyn Nean."

Becca shakes her head and closes her eyes. She didn't do it, and she knows it. Everyone should know it. Will she be able to stand up for herself and explain what happened?

"Now before a verdict is reached, we must hear out what happened from both a witness and Becca herself. The original witness that first saw Becca kill this man fled from the sight and was not seen again. However, I was there, so I will stand as a witness."

The Dark Clan around Becca applauds Quill as he stands. Becca's mind is on overdrive as she looks up at him, trying to work her story out, trying to get it exactly right, as he walks down to stand at the base of where he had been sitting.

What if she says something that doesn't match up to him? Would something bad happen to her? Would she be thrown into the Dark Clan anyway? Would she be killed?

She looks around the room at the many masks as they stare at either her or Quill. One of them catches her eye.

The mask covers the entire face of that one person in the jury, but around the edges, there is a light blue color in the shape of triangles, shifting to a darker blue as it reaches the inside of the mask. Halfway past the outer corner of the darkened eyes, it stops, letting the black show through as if it were a crack through a door to a darkened room.

"Eduard," Becca whispers to no one.

"I saw Becca Reed today at her party," Quill starts to talk, and Becca snaps her head to look at him. "She started walking away from the crowd and disappeared between two trees. That's when I heard a man screaming.

"I rushed through the crowd that was forming and saw Becca standing over the dead man with blood all on her arms and on her hands. She tried to tell me that the man who had been screaming had killed the man, and not her. But the man didn't have a spot of blood on him."

Becca thinks back to the incident. She remembers the man's hands, rough, almost like a material. Had he been wearing gloves? And his mask had nothing on it, aside from its white color and tinted eyehole lenses. But she remembers the man on the ground, lifelessly staring through his broken mask, and she knows she was not the cause of that.

"And now that the jury has heard my story, Becca, would you stand and explain to them what happened to you?"

Becca looks out at the jury, who lean over to one-another, probably whispering something back and forth, and many of them shake their head. She sees Eduard do nothing, unlike the people around him, if he really is Eduard. He stares at her, or at least she thinks he does, his eyes are unable to be seen because of the tint in the eyeholes that hide them.

She faces Quill once again and stands up on shaky legs. The breath she draws in is ragged and cold as it makes its way to the back of her mouth and dries it out. Her heart beats in her chest loud enough to where she can hear it over the breathes that are breathed behind the masks and as the air hits the inside of the plastic, the ceramic, whatever the faces are made of, and as they somewhat whistle slipping through the small mouth hole and nose holes between the fake lips and nostrils.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she takes one more breath, she blocks out all the sound—no distractions.

And then she begins.

"I was on my way to my party. I was turning eighteen at three-oh-one today, and that was the moment I would be masked." She doesn't look away from Quill, who stands very still, almost statue-like, with his hands behind his back and his mask seeming to smile in mockery at her. "Ten minutes till, I was talking to the people in white masks around me. I didn't know very many of them, only the few friends I had had growing up that hadn't fallen to the Dark Clan.

"And then it was almost time. I was talking to a few ladies about the decoration of the mask, and if I should keep it decorated how I have it now.

"And then I saw something shining. It was only for a split second, so I decided to ignore it. But then it happened again, and I guess curiosity took over. I walked in between these two trees, and when I reached them something moved. It was the man that had been... murdered..." Becca swallows as a tear falls down her cheek. "A man with a white mask and brown hair looked at me and started rubbing my arms and he had something on his hands. I was in shock as I looked at the man—I froze... I didn't know what to do. His hands were rough and felt like material, and when I finally looked down at myself, I was covered in blood. I guess the man was wearing gloves because no one had said anything about him and he didn't have any blood on him...

"But I didn't do it. I'm completely innocent..."

The Dark Clan is silent, and so is Quill. For a moment, he doesn't move, almost as if he's pondering something.

"Why would another person in your clan lie?" He asks. "Why would another white mask want to kill someone and blame you for it, Becca? Why are you so special?"

"I'm not," Becca says, recognizing the humility trap. Answering wrong to those questions could mean her permanent placement on the Dark Clan. "And, as you said when you forced that boy named Eduard to go to the Dark Clan," She says, her heart pounding, hoping it really was him in the jury. "Everyone has at least a little bad inside them. There's always going to be evil as goodness lives on."

Becca can feel her mouth starting to form the words in an icy way, each syllable argumentative and accusational.

"And what makes you so special, Quill?" She asks, not able to stop herself. "What makes you leader of both clans? You can't be all good and all evil at the same time."

The crowd bursts into laughter and oohs and awestruck noise. No one ever talks to the Leader like that. No one. Period.

Especially not a low-level girl who is suspected of killing a man.

"What makes me so special, Becca," She hears him laugh from behind his mask. "Is that I control whether you live or die today."

"Do you?" Becca asks. She doesn't recognize this part of herself, but she doesn't want it to stop either. If she's already doomed to death or the Dark Clan, why hide anything? "Because I thought both you and the jury have to decide whether I live or die today."

Quill turns calmly and walks back up the stairs to his chair. As he sits, he laces his fingers together, his white gloves blending in with the white wood in front of him.

He turns, his chair apparently able to swivel around, and faces the jury. They look up at him, all of their different faces and decorations like a sea of dark colors, constantly swaying back and forth from Quill to Becca, but always going back to Quill. Becca looks out among them, spotting two masks obviously staring at her more than the others. The boy she thinks is Eduard in the back row, and a plain black mask in the front.

Banshee! She thinks, and her heart starts to race even quicker. He could ruin this for her. Could he possibly sway their decision and make them want to kill her? Would he?

"The voice..." She says, dawning on an idea. "The voice of the man was familiar."

Her eyes don't move from Banshee's still mask.

"The voice wasn't the voice of a white mask!" She shouts, walking in front of the table. "It wasn't! Someone was hiding behind a white mask. Someone framed me!"

"Enough, Miss Reed."

"Quill—"

"I said enough!" He shouts, and the room falls silent. "Jury of the Dark Clan court, say kill for a death sentence," He says as he looks at Becca. She cringes away, the fire still burning inside of her. "Or dark for her to join you. Go down the row, starting with Gary Tither."

"Kill."

"Dark."

"Kill."

"Dark."

"Dark."

The next one is Banshee, who has not looked away from Becca. The other black masks look at him, waiting for his answer.

"Kill," he says slowly, the l's most prominent in the word, and Becca watches as he cocks his head to the side.

"Dark."

"Kill."

"Dark."

"Dark."

"Dark."

"Kill."

"Kill."

"Kill."

The momentum stops again at the boy with the blue triangles. He picks at his hands, not yet gloved.

Becca hears him sigh. He's the tiebreaker. The same amount of people have chosen to have her executed, as to have her join the dark clan.

She holds her breath as the seconds tick agonizingly away.

"Dark," he finally says.

Quill turns back to Becca, peering down at her from where he sits. She breathes a heavy sigh of relief and sets her head in her hands. This isn't the end. Not yet.

"Seven kills and eight darks. If I put my vote in," he sighs. "We would have a tie."

He unclasps his hands and stands up. Becca can hear the thumping of his shoes as he walks down the stairs to return back to the ground.

"So, Becca Reed," He says as he appears from behind the wall where the stairs are hidden. "Consider your life saved. For now."

She looks up and nods slowly.

Quill produces a black mask from behind his back. It is a blank, full-face mask, and the eyeholes are filled with tinted glass to hide her eyes. There are indentions of long eyelashes framing it, helping give it a feminine look. The lips are small and its corners are pinched a bit upward, as if smiling is painful to do.

"Face the audience and remove your mask," Quill demands.

With shaky, hesitant hands, Becca reaches up to untie the knot for a moment she thought would never come in her lifetime. The skin under her mask is immediately cold as the hard material of the mask leaves her face, and she can feel the spots where her tears had been trapped on her cheek. She wipes them away as she brings the mask down.

She looks up and her eyes dart to her parents, who look away from her bare face and stand up. They make their way down the rows and out the doors, ashamed of what Becca had become. Suddenly, she feels abandoned and alone, her heart hurting and tears burning her eyes as they travel down to the floor in embarrassment.

"Don't be ashamed!" A voice says.

Becca's head snaps up in the direction of the jury. The boy with the blue on his mask is standing up and looking straight at her.

"Never be ashamed of the mistakes you've made!"

He raises a fist into the air. Blue triangles cover his hand and well beneath his sleeve as it starts to slip downward.

"Silence!" Quill shouts, and he places the mask over her face, tying the black ribbon behind her head.

Chapter 7

The feeling of insecurity follows Becca as she walks down the street in her new mask. The people in her path seem to split like a canyon as she nears. Her hands stay clenched around her arms as her stomach twists inside of her. Today was supposed to be a great day, a fun day, a celebration. Instead, it turned out to be a disaster.

She catches a glimpse of her reflection as she passes by a store window. She had hastily tried to decorate her mask to where the black is barely visible. She covered it with green paint and gold sparkles, the only colors available to her after she had been masked. She was just glad they were her favorite colors.

The way she painted the green onto the black material reminds her of the boy's in the jury, Eduard's. She had tried to make it almost fade into the black, and had almost convinced herself she did a good job with it—if she were four. She's never been good at decorating her masks... The gold sits on the outside, starting heavy and working its way thinner as it goes in. She kind of likes it. Of course, she'd like it so much better if it were white...

Becca still wears her bloody white dress. She was told she doesn't have to change until tomorrow, but she's dying to get out of it. The horrid events of today make her want to throw up.

And then she does.

She leans over the trashcan that's only a step away and hurls into it. Her stomach feels better, although the terrible feeling inside of her still tries to claw its way out through her skin.

She stands up, wiping her mouth and searching for somewhere that has water available to her.

Spotting a small coffee shop, she jogs across the unused road. No one has used cars since the late twenty-second century, when oil had been exhausted. Electronic and air/water powered cars were being worked on, but money had declined and scientists weren't able to work on cars. The human race took a step backwards, and that's how the masks came about.

No one really knows how it started, exactly. It just did, and then everyone started wearing masks and no one could take them off.

Bells ding as Becca steps inside of the little shop, and several pairs of glass-tinted eyes look up at her. She walks up to the counter, and the man behind it ignores her as she watches him wipe up a spill on the marble surface.

"Excuse me, can I get some water?"

"Sorry, you're in the wrong shop, Miss," He says, and the color of the masks finally reached Becca's brain.

She's a black mask now. Black masks and white masks hardly ever intermingle, besides school and on the street.

There are several places that don't serve the Dark Clan, and quite a few that don't serve the Light Clan, no matter how little business any of them they might have. It's just the way things are.

She nods and taps the counter with her stained fingers, stifling a tear.

The bells chime again as she sees herself out, the taste of puke still lingering in her mouth. Her throat burns and she looks for another place to go into.

Becca starts to walk across the street, when someone knocks her down.

"You're right now, Becca."

She looks up to see Banshee standing over her.

"You're right."

Becca says nothing as the man cloaked in black stares down at her. Her heart races and her breathing is shallow.

She hears the click of a gun.

Banshee raises up his arm, his sleeve falling away from the dark, cold metal that brings death upon all who it is aimed at.

"You're right. And it will get better. You'll come to your senses."

Her heart is pounding in her ears, as it always does when she is around this man.

He pulls the trigger.

The gun makes a clicking sound and he cocks it again.

She's not dead.

"Run." He says darkly as he slowly points the gun back at her.

Becca scrambles up, hearing the gun click again. She finds herself wondering in a brief thought if the gun is really loaded.

He pulls the trigger again and a bullet whizzes by her.

It's loaded, she thinks to herself as she turns a corner.

A narrow alleyway stretches before her, the same one that she had been in the first night she encountered Banshee.

She keeps running, clicks following her, yet seeming to get further away at the same time. She's outrunning him.

Once more, the gun sends off a loud bang, the bullet colliding with brick.

"You live," she hears Banshee scream. "You live for now! For now you live! But you will die! And you will be alone!"

She takes a few more turns in between the buildings just in case he had decided to follow her. Why is he doing this to her? What did she ever do to him? Why does he want her dead?

Out of breath, Becca's shoulder collides into the wall as she gasps for air. The mask is cutting off her oxygen and pulling the carbon dioxide she produces back into her system, creating spots around her vision. She tries to slow her breathing, but she can't. Her lungs aren't getting enough air. Her vision is going out and her body is feeling numb.

Darkness greets her like a cold, hard brick flying through the air as she falls to the ground, unconscious.

. . .

Becca's eyes flutter open to a bright light. Voices surround her as her senses slowly start returning to her. Sleep weighs down on her like a blanket, and as the memories of earlier return, she wishes she could slip back into that sleep, that safe, safe place where nothing can actually harm her.

"She's awake," someone says and walks toward her.

Eduard.

"Hey," he says, kneeling down beside her.

Becca realizes that she's laying on a cot in the center of the room with a small pillow stuffed beneath her head.

Eduard helps her sit up and a dizzying head rush makes her sway a bit. She puts her hands to her head to stabilize herself.

"What... where am I?" She slurs, looking around the room.

It's not very large. The walls have graffiti scattered on them and there are three wooden doors that seem to be swallowed up by the mixture of the black walls and the dim lighting. They rest on the wall Becca faces and the wall to her right, one open and showing a bathroom with a flickering light bulb hanging from the ceiling, while the other two are shut.

"Safe," Eduard says as he squats beside the cot. "This is a little place that was abandoned in the Dark Clan's housing building. No one's lived here for years."

"How did I get here? Why am I here?" She asks, taking in the masks around the room that hide the faces of the other four people.

There is one girl with a black mask who had decorated it with white eyelashes lining the eyeholes on the top and bottom. They're long and over-dramatic. She stands with her arms crossed and her hip popped out, her black sleeves barely covering her wrists.

The other three people are all boys.

The one sitting with his back against the wall has a mask with a scowl. There are thin white lines all over it, possibly to show the anger the mask is trying to portray.

The second one stands by the door with his arms crossed. His black mask has a goofy smile on it. There are painted-on green and purple diamonds all over the face, with the black color of the mask acting like borders for each shape. His clothes seem to droop in almost a comical way as it covers his thick arms and his long legs.

The third boy stands with his back against the wall by the bathroom door. He picks at his fingers and is mumbling something to himself. His black mask has white paint splattered all over it, more in a chaotic way than an artistic way. His clothes almost cover all of him like a cloak, signaling to Becca he had been here for a while.

She looks back at Eduard as he begins to talk.

"We saw you in the alleyway and we didn't want anything to happen to you, so we brought you here—not the safest place in the world, but safer than an alleyway."

"I don't think anything would have happened," she mutters optimistically, rubbing her head and hoping she's right.

"You're a black mask now," he shrugs. "Black masks aren't the best of people. Think about the worst thing that could happen. That's happened here, and it would happen again in an instant—and without a second thought."

Becca looks down at her bloody white dress and shivers at the eerie and scary memory of her party. He was right, after all, although she hates to admit it. She's heard so many things about the Black Clan, so many things people should not do... and then there's Banshee...

Eduard sighs and holds out his hand as he stands up to help Becca to her feet. She takes the offer and hold onto him briefly while she makes sense of the blurriness of the world around her. It goes away soon and she lets go, embarrassed she had touched him for that long.

"This is Victoria," Eduard says, motioning to the girl with the eyelashes. She nods. "That—is Mikey," the guy with the smile waves, "Nixon," the guy that wears the angry mask nods, "and Twitch."

"Twitch?" Becca asks quietly as she looks over at the boy wearing the paint-splattered mask. His face snaps upright and his mumbling stops as he looks between Becca and Eduard. A moment later, he goes back to picking lightly at his fingers.

Eduard nods. "He was caught in a fire. Ever since then he's never been the same. So we just call him Twitch."

Becca nods.

"And, as you know, my name is Eduard."

Becca smiles beneath her mask. "I knew it," she chuckles.

He shrugs. "Good thing then, I guess. I mean, I was the tiebreaker to see if you'd die or not. So you're welcome." He chuckles softly.

"So why did you choose not to let them kill me?" Becca asks suddenly, the new side of her that she had caught a glimpse of inside of the courtroom slipping past her lips.

"Because we need a Face," he says.

"A Face?" She asks, the word almost unfamiliar to her mouth. "What do you mean?"

"I mean we need someone to put on the front lines. And then I was surprised you still remembered me." Eduard chuckles.

"What?" Becca asks again, her head starting to hurt more from the waves of new information. What front lines is he talking about? What does he mean by that? Becca almost feels like he's speaking a whole different language that she can't comprehend.

Eduard sighs. "Wow, you don't know anything do you?"

"Excuse me?" Becca spits.

"I mean—no, not like that. I mean..." he looks around the room as he bounces on his toes. He takes another breath before looking back at Becca. "Come with me."

He takes her arm and leads her out of the room as he nods to his companions. Behind them, Mikey, Victoria, Nixon, and Twitch follow, lost in conversation and laughter. They bang on the walls as they trot down the rusty stairs, creating a riot of sounds, and Becca can hear and see other people start to come out of other rooms, whooping and shouting in pure glee.

It's like an apartment complex in here. The stairs wind down to the ground, and soon a large group of black decorated masks are trailing behind the six of them, hooting and howling and laughing and making every noise known to man to make a ruckus.

"We got a new one," Victoria shouts at the loud crowd and they all cheer and laugh. She pushes Becca lightly on her shoulder and lets out a shout.

Eduard holds her arm until they're out the back door of the building, and suddenly, he starts running. She watches him curiously, still walking, until she's pushed forward by the rebel-yelling mass behind her, and she breaks out into a run herself. They sprint through an open field and into a cluster of trees, the air sticky as the skyline darkens with night. The sounds of the forest are taken over by the chatter of the people in black masks. They all stop around a medium-sized patch of dead grass, making a circle around it. Eduard and Victoria step onto the patch and the crowd cheers. Victoria laughs and raises her hands, as if she was victorious of something that happened. Becca feels like she should be scared, but something inside of her sprouts happiness and makes her want to smile and cheer along with the swarm of black masks that surround her.

"Attention, company!" Eduard yells, his voice going deeper than what Becca has heard.

The volume of the crowd lowers, the words of Victoria and Eduard covering the whispers as they continue with their speech.

"We have added a new member to our little organization!" Victoria shouts. "Eduard brought her in from an alleyway, unconscious and covered in blood."

Eduard walks up to the side of the crowd Becca is on and she shies away from him a bit, scared of what is going to happen next.

He grabs her arm gently and leads her into the center of the ring, nodding to her assuringly. The crowd cheers and looks her over.

"She didn't kill anyone," Eduard shouts over the crowd, and it falls silent. "But she was blamed for it. And although she isn't "black mask material", I say we let her in. I say we've found our Face."

The crowd starts to talk all at once and Becca looks up at Eduard, who stands a whole head taller than her. He looks down at her and nods.

"Does anyone challenge Eduard?" Victoria circles the inside of the crowd. "Does anyone want to question our leader?"

So he's their leader...? Becca thinks to herself as she looks back out at the people.

"I do," a girl steps forward through the thick crowd.

"Oohh," Victoria laughs sarcastically, skipping a circle around her and stopping beside her. "We have a taker. What's your reasoning, Trishah?"

The girl has a pink-rimmed mask, the color only on the edges, and her clothes are about at the same state as Twitch's is.

"I've been working with you for a few years now, Eduard," she begins. "I've been a part of this little rebellion almost since the beginning of its creation. What makes her the Face and not me?"

"Did you stand up and question the leader?" Eduard asks. "No. None of us did. She did, though."

"I'm sure one of us questioned—"

"Nope," says Eduard. "Before joining, you had to tell me your story of joining the Dark Clan, and from there I would decide to let you join or not. None of you did that to Quill. If you did, you would have been dead, mostly because all of you are guilty of what you did. And on the other hand, I have been in the jury for most of your trials, so when any of you tried to lie, I took that into consideration as well."

Trishah nods and steps back into the crowd.

Victoria points a finger at the girl and shakes her head like a bobble head before springing off of her toes and walking around the circle again.

"Anyone else?"

"I have a question," Becca chimes in.

Victoria stops where she lands from springing around inside the little group, and turns to look at her. All eyes flicker to Becca and she starts to feel uncomfortable.

"Yes?" Victoria asks.

"What do you need this—face for? I don't understand what's going on..."

Eduard and Victoria look at each other and then turn back to Becca.

"I'm not going to make you do this unless you accept," he says, his warm hands touching her arms gently and sending chills through her body. "But before you decide, you have to see something first. Okay?"

"But I don't know what anything is!" She says, exasperated. "You're not explaining yourself!"

"We need a leader. A face that everyone will see."

"I thought you were the leader? Of whatever this is. This... little... group-thing?"

"Unofficially," he shrugs. "But we need someone who will do what we need them to do, and you have that spark and that fire to do it."

"To do what?" Becca asks, still confused.

Eduard turns to the audience. "Did you guys bring them?"

Everyone starts talking at once and Victoria and Eduard start to retreat back into the group, followed by the lost and confused Becca.

Someone lights a match and throws it onto the circle of dead grass. It lights immediately, and Becca jumps back, not able to take her eyes off of the flames. She turns to look at Eduard and her brain starts to panic.

He's removing his mask.

"Throw," He says once his mask is in his hand. He tosses it into the fire, and it's followed by dozens of other ones. He looks at Becca, the fire illuminating the right side of his face.

Her breath catches in her throat as she sees the first real face that isn't hers. His eyes are bright blue and his hair is a deep brown and his lips are full and a light pink color glows with the light of the fire.

"Would you like to stop hiding behind that mask?" He asks her, his voice soft but audible over the cackling of the fire and the noise of the black masks behind him.

Becca looks around at all of the faces. People touch one another, amazed by what they're seeing. Many of them have patterns drawn on them like on Eduard's arm, some have triangles, and some have squares, and they're in different spots, Becca realizes as she looks around the circle. The moment conflicts her on the inside. For so long, she's been told to never take off the mask, no matter what. No matter the scoff. Never take it off. But in this moment... this is the moment she chooses. And she can choose to either be a part of the society, or a part of something completely opposite, something completely whimsical, almost magical, it seems...

She turns back to look at Eduard.

"But we could..." She trails off as she touches the rough surface of her mask.

"I know," he says quietly. "That's why we're going to put on a different mask."

"Wouldn't that defeat the purpose?" Becca asks, her throat closing as she thinks of the terrible possibilities that could happen if she went back without a mask.

"Not for what we're trying to do," he says.

"And what is that?"

"We're going to get our freedom back."

Chapter 8

Becca's hands lift to her mask as she sits alone in her new room. It had been assigned to her by Quill. It's two stories up from Eduard's room and from where she woke up just a few hours ago, which rests right next to that.

The glitter makes the surface of the mask rough and the paint gives it texture.

She walks into the bathroom located on the left side of the room, according to the bedroom door. Inside of it is a small tub with a clear curtain around it and a white toilet that looks like it's been used too many times. The counter holding the stained sink reaches Becca's hips. A small cloudy mirror is placed above that, and it's only about the size of Becca's face. Dark wood frames the reflective surface and almost blends in with the black wall behind it, just like the doors in that abandoned room.

She stares at her reflection, something that is frowned upon. The society isn't allowed to look at themselves in the mirror, mask or no mask, even though they are placed in their bathroom. It promotes vanity, but Becca sees vanity as someone who is obsessed with themselves and can't stop looking in the mirror. She's sure people still do it, even though they have a mask that covers their face.

Her fingers find the knot tied behind her messy brunette hair and they undo it. Slowly, she slips the mask off and stares at the sink, the cool sensation that follows the removal of the mask settling into her skin. She stares at the sink.

Becca only sees her face when she showers. Even then, she just gets a glance of it. And then, earlier tonight, she'd seen more faces than she's ever set her eyes upon in her entire life.

Eduard wanted her to be the Face of this rebellion that he has going on. She doesn't understand why he needs one, let alone why he wants it to be her.

He tried to explain it to her. He told her that everything has a face associated with it, something to represent all it stands for, like how their society has Quill's as the face of their city, as the leader of the city.

That's what he was wanting to do. He wanted her to be the 'leader' of the rebellion and to help take down Quill and change the society in a big way.

Even if Becca agreed, could she do it? Could she face the leader of their city on her own if she had to? Could she stand up for what the movement believes in, and not cower down underneath the power that radiates from every fiber of the man named Quill?

Her eyes drift up to the mirror and she looks at her face. There are dark dots, freckles, along the bridge of her nose and her eyes are a caramel brown. Her brown hair falls around her face, framing its oval shape well, and her pink lips are bigger than she realized. She touches it, the skin tender and pale from never seeing the sunlight.

What if she never had to wear a mask ever again?

The memory of her as a little girl in the alleyway makes her eyes jump back down to the sink. She can hear Banshee's screams in her head, and she can almost feel the searing pain of the mask as he shoves it back onto her face, the edges of the mask cutting into her skin.

She closes her eyes and tries to breathe as the memory fades away. Her eyes creep back up to the mirror and search her face once again.

"I'll try it," she whispers to herself, taking the mask in her hands and moving it between her fingers nervously. "But if I don't like it I'm quitting, no matter what..."

She places the mask back in its position and ties the ribbon tight around her face. It's time for her to sleep. She has a big day tomorrow.

. . .

She dreams of a fire spreading all over her body. White masks stand by and watch her burn. Her mask lies on the ground out of reach, and she tries to grab it, screaming. She rolls on the ground in agony and cries out for somebody to help her, but no one does. No one puts out the flames. If only she could reach the mask... this would all end. She would be okay.

Eduard walks out into view and stops before the mask, looking down at Becca. His mask is off and his blue eyes are trained on her, a fire of his own burning behind them. He wears a white shirt with black pants, and gloves that are split down the center with the two colors.

"Eduard!" Becca cries out, sobbing and screaming in pain. "Eduard, help me!"

He shakes his head and smirks. "You can't be helped."

He reaches around to his back pocket and pulls out a mask. He holds it over his face, and the colors black and white are split at odd angles down the length of the mask. The white side wears a sad face, while the black side wears a smile. But the smile isn't goofy like Mikey's was. Instead, it seems to glow with eeriness and mockery and secrets.

He backs up and the people standing in a circle around Becca start to laugh hysterically. A fire erupts from behind them in the trees they stand before, but none of the flames reach them. The sky is suddenly dark and the people's masks have changed.

They all match Eduard's.

Becca tries one final time to push through the thick weight of the pain and reach the mask. Her fingers touch it and she feels as if she's holding on to the last bit of life she has, as if all of her strength comes from this mask, as if she needs the mask.

She slowly, painfully pulls the mask back to her and presses it to her face.

The fire suddenly stops burning her skin as it laps around her and she stands up with ease, all the pain disappearing and the fatigue dissipating. Touching the mask with her fingers, she realizes it isn't hers anymore. The lines and creases aren't hers, they're someone else's.

Flames dance around her as she takes a step toward Eduard, feeling angry inside. He slowly takes off his mask and smirks at her, as if he knows something she doesn't. He flings his hand around and a mirror shines into Becca's eyes. She cringes from the sudden light and looks away before turning back around to him and looking into the mirror that seems to grow larger with each passing second.

It's Quill's mask that stares back at her.

She rips it off of her face, the mask sticking like glue to her skin. Her scream makes her throat feel raw as she throws the mask onto the ground. It sinks into the grass like water and disappears forever.

Suddenly everything goes quiet.

She looks up and sees no fire, no laughing people with masks. Only Eduard in his strange clothes and maskless face stand there now, watching Becca. The trees have disappeared and she stands in an open field, the field that they had gone through to get to the forest the day she met the rebellion.

Becca's breathing is heavy and she feels dizzy as every last flame disappears from around her. Eduard turns and walks away. She tries to follow him, but her feet won't move, they're planted to the soggy ground.

"You're right..." she hears, chills racing down her spine in deluges of cold tingles. "You'll be alone..."

She slowly turns around to see Banshee, his mask overly dramatized and edgy, as if it had been stretched from the inside with swords. He holds a gun up to her and he cocks his head to the side.

"You're right," he says. His mask moves with the words, as if it's the mask saying it and not the person. "You'll be alone."

Becca's heart thumps madly.

"Alone."

He pulls the trigger.

Becca wakes with a start as her door shuts.

Her hairs stand on end as she realizes no one is in her room with her, no one is hiding in the shadows, no one had broken into her room. No one is lurking behind the door of her bathroom, no one is in the process of entering her bedroom to steal something, to take her life from pure fun.

Someone had just left it.

. . .

"So now we come up with missions."

It's Eduard talking to the five other people sitting around the burned and melted masks from the day before. All of their masks are different now, stolen. They've come up with different names, in case they get caught. The masks create a whole different identity for them, or so Becca feels. They're still them, but they have an undertone of cockiness and haughtiness when no one knows who they are.

Would Becca be that way?

She hopes not.

Mikey, Victoria, Twitch, Nixon, Eduard, and Becca all sit cross-legged on the grass as they brainstorm. Victoria picks at the remains of the burned masks with a stick. Somehow they had been able to control the flames and keep them from sparking a forest fire last night, although Becca has no earthly idea how.

"Becca, what do you think?"

Mikey jerks Becca out of her thoughts and she looks around the circle at her new friends, her new life.

"About what?" She asks. "Sorry I was..."

"About the mission. What should we do?"

"I..." She looks at the masks around her, not knowing what to say. Are they asking her about what they should do? "I never... Um..."

Victoria glances at Eduard and stands up.

"Come with me," she says, waving Becca toward her.

Becca jumps up and follows her. They walk to the edge of the trees and Victoria takes off her mask. Her red hair falls down past her shoulders and blue piercing eyes look out at the city before them. The sun shines down on its buildings, the dull colors looking almost pretty in the light, and Becca can see the little people walking around inside the city.

"Bad things happen out here, Becca," Victoria says quietly. "And it's not because the white masks are white or the black masks are black, or because the Light Clan and Dark Clan have a specific role in the society. It's because we're taught to think one way or the other. There are two groups. Pick one."

"I—"

"I wasn't asking you to do that," she laughs a bit, leaning against a tree. "I was just saying that we're forced to pick one side or the other."

"Oh," Becca says, shifting her weight awkwardly. The black clothes she wears makes her feel almost invisible against the shadows the trees create on the forest floor. She doesn't like it. She misses the white clothes she had worn since the day she turned thirteen.

"Do you know what Eduard told us about you? Why he picked you?" Victoria asks Becca, turning a bit to face her.

Becca shakes her head, but follows it up with a guess. "He said it's because I questioned Quill."

Victoria nods. "Yeah, but that's not all."

Becca looks at her in curiosity.

"He said you were different. You had this way about you in the courtroom, apparently. It caught Eduard's attention. And you recognized him too. He thinks you have good attention to detail, or he's guessing you do, which is needed to do what we need to do.

"But he was talking about your story. You never looked away from Quill. Eduard thought you were almost challenging him, whether you knew it or not. And then you really started challenging him with what you were asking and how you were responding to his questions. He said you brought him up."

Becca nods to confirm the notion. She did. She had accused Quill of forcing Eduard to switch over to the Dark Clan.

"And then you quoted him," Vanessa laughs. "You quoted Quill from back when you were thirteen and it worked! There were people asking about the legitimacy of the government after your trial, even about the national government. Eduard thinks that's another reason why you lived to see yesterday. Today, even."

Becca shrugs and moves the dirt at her feet with the toe of her black shoe. A bit of guilt mixed with fear bubble up inside of her as she takes a deep breath. She'd rather not relive that moment...

"But that doesn't mean you'll get to see tomorrow," Victoria says and looks back out at the city.

"What do you mean?" Becca asks, suddenly alarmed.

"I mean Quill won't let it stand. When the chance comes, he'll kill you in a heartbeat."

Becca's mind jumps to last night.

What if that was him?

"Someone was in my room last night," Becca blurts. Victoria stands up straight and wrenches around to face her. "They closed the door right when I woke up."

Victoria's eyes go wide. She seems lost for words.

"We've got to tell Eduard," she says, her voice shaky. She grabs Becca's arm roughly and drags her along as she walks quickly back to the circle of dead grass. "Eduard!"

Victoria lets go of Becca and runs over to him. Eduard stands up and looks at the girls with concern.

"Becca had a visitor last night. He left as she woke up. Could it be Quill spying on her?" Victoria asks quickly. "Or could it be someone else?"

Eduard says nothing as he looks at Becca. He takes off his mask and looks back and forth at the girls again.

"Becca, I'm sorry I have to do this, but you have no choice," he says as he walks behind Becca and unties the knot hiding her face. She tries to protest but gives up as the mask falls into her hands. "You have to become the Face of the Rebellion now. It's for your own sake."

Becca looks up at the boy, letting the mask stay in her hands.

"But I—"

"Don't worry. Someone will always be with you. We came up with some missions. They'll involve you, but not Becca Reed."

Chapter 9

The rebellion calls themselves the Maskless, which is fitting for what they're trying to do. They've come up with five different missions, each having only a basic structure so they can be easily changed, should things not go as planned.

The first is to recruit.

"So how we'll approach this," Eduard says as the other five people stand around the circular patch of grass. "—is we have to be sneaky about it. All of the people behind us, believe it or not, are not enough to take down an entire system of government. Aspirational, I know, but we need to start somewhere.

"What we've come up with so far is to break our organization into groups, once we have enough people. We will have the Hiders, the Mask Makers, and the Masked.

"The Hiders will mask-jump, I made that word up myself thank you very much, and pretend they are somebody they really aren't so that the mission can be fulfilled. We'll go into more details later as this goes on. This is just the basics of what Nixon, Twitch, Mikey, and I have come up with.

"The Mask Makers will steal masks from the piles at the choosing ceremony when kids turn thirteen. The catch is they can only grab white masks."

"Don't we need some black ones though?" Victoria asks, interrupting Eduard's speech. "And some clothes too?"

Eduard stops to think and nods his head. "Yeah, we'll add that to the list then. That works... but they also have to make a butt-load of different designs for them so none look the same.

"Okay, and for the Masked, those are going to be the people that are controlling the mission behind the scenes. They do all of the research and work out all of the kinks and try to keep everything on track when the Hiders are in the city."

"What do we fall under?" Mikey asks, a playful half smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. Becca thinks that his mask really did portray who he was, the one that was burned, although she's only known him for a short amount of time.

"Mikey, I want you to be a Mask Maker. You can talk your way out of any situation. Plus, you can be really quiet and serious when you need to be, and that's what we need for this."

Mikey nods with a smile and responds with a "Cool."

"Victoria, I want you to be a Hider. You're just that kind of person, and I think you can handle it."

"Awesome," She smiles, looking around the circle. "They're about to get a taste of their own medicine."

"Just hope they don't smell a rat," Nixon chimes in, his arms crossed over his chest like a shield and his black hair shuffling in the wind like feathers.

Eduard nods, his face still hard as stone. "And Nixon, I want you to be one of the Masked with me. You know a lot about technology and we need a lot of it for this kind of thing."

Nixon nods.

Eduard looks at Twitch, who is bouncing on the balls of his feet impatiently and picking at his fingers. Becca looks at him straight on for the first time. Half of his face is pink and burned. She suddenly understands why he wasn't the same anymore after the fire. There's a stranger in the mirror ever since that day, a face he doesn't recognize when he gets out of the shower. Becca doesn't think she would even want to look at herself, especially if...

"Twitch, I want you to help Nixon out. You work fast and it's a good way to keep your hands moving."

Twitch nods and smiles, the burned half barely able to move. Becca's heart hurts for him.

"What about Becca?" Victoria asks.

"She's the Face," Eduard says simply. "She does it all. She leads us."

"But I don't really know anything about what we need to do or anything..." Becca says timidly, shuffling on her feet.

"That can be a good thing," Eduard smiles, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

"Um, Eduard..." Mikey says unconfidently, looking at Becca with his eyes, but his body is turned towards Eduard. "That's probably not a good thing. Shouldn't she be super informed because she's the leader?"

Eduard shrugs. "I don't know. I think if we give her the basics on what we need her to get done, she'll do the right thing, instead of trying to go by the book and stressing over it. It allows more creativity, I think."

The group looks at Eduard strangely, hoping he's not really insane.

"You realize we could lose our lives if we are led wrong?" Victoria asks. "No offense, Becca."

"Completely," Eduard smiles again. "That's why Nixon, Twitch, and I are here to make sure things go how they're supposed to."

"But you don't want her to 'go by the book'?" Nixon asks skeptically.

"Well, in a sense. Whatever she's got to do to finish the mission is what she's got to do, and I'm not going to limit her to a strict format."

"But—"

"Becca," Eduard cuts Victoria's protest short. "What do you think about it?"

Becca opens her mouth, tiny, flustered sounds escaping. What does she think?

"I don't want to let you guys down," She offers.

"Good." Eduard says, smiling confidently again. "That means you'll do just fine."

. . .

Becca sits with Twitch as she waits for another mask to be retrieved for her from the city by her new friends. Her eyes wander over the green of the grass as it meets the blackness of her pants abruptly, the noises of the forest surrounding them.

Twitch is quiet the whole time. He has his mask off and he touches the burned part of his face, lost in thought. Becca finds herself wondering how much of his skin was burned, and if he hides burned flesh beneath his clothes as well. How much of him had been burned?

"How did it happen?" She asks before she can stop herself. "The fire?"

He freezes, his body going rigid for a moment, and his face contorts into something that looks painful.

"I don't know," he says, his voice deeper than Becca thought it would be. "I woke up and the room was on fire. I tried to get to the door but... the smoke..." He pauses and closes his eyes. "I passed out. Luckily, Eduard had been passing by. He saved me. Dragged me right out of there. He only had a few unserious burns but I... My body had been covered in flames... Apparently, three black masks had started the fire just because they wanted to cause destruction... It makes sense... It's what the Dark Clan does, what we're supposed to do... But if it wasn't for Eduard acting outside of the boundaries he'd been given on what he was supposed to act like as a black mask, I would have died that day. And for that... I owe him my life."

His voice cracks and Becca realizes he's close to tears.

"I'm sorry," Becca says politely, not knowing what else to say. She looks down at her clasped hands sitting in her lap. Then her eyes wander to the black mask he holds, his hands moving over it absently.

There are three white lines above the protruding eyebrow, angled towards the nose of the mask. He looks at it and watches his hands as they move over it, almost mesmerized. How many masks has he gone through? Is this the first stolen mask he's worn?

"Do you like wearing the masks?" Becca asks, watching as he turns the mask over in his hands.

Twitch thinks about this for a moment, his hands shaking nervously.

"No," He says finally. "No... I don't. I want them to see what they've done to me, to all of us."

The sounds of the forest take over the airways once again as Becca nods politely. Her mind drifts off to thinking about what's actually happening and what it would be like in a world with no masks. Would there be a definitive line between good and bad, or will there be gray areas? Would it all be a gray area, where people are led down the wrong path?

"How does it feel?" Twitch asks suddenly, making Becca jump.

"What?" She asks.

"To be the leader of a rebellion after just being switched into the Dark Clan?"

Becca shrugs. "I don't know... Daunting? Overwhelming? I just wish I was more informed is all..."

"Truth is, not all of us really need to know everything, you know? We just need to know how to get the job done. I kind of think it's somewhat smart to leave you in the dark for what you're doing sometimes, but that's just me. Ignorance is bliss, right?"

Becca nods and looks down at her hands again.

But what if not knowing gets me in trouble?

Eduard, Victoria, Mikey, and Nixon return with the crowd of Maskless following behind them. He hands Becca the black mask and tells her to decorate it while he catches everyone up on the plans.

Eventually, the forty-nine people are split up into the three groups, most of them placed in the Mask Making or the Masked parts. Only about ten are put into the Hiders, minus Victoria, because of their persuasion and acting skills.

It takes a week for them to reach one hundred people, and, although it still isn't enough to fulfill their aspiring wish to take down an entire government, they start to plan their second mission. Eduard set aside another small group called Recruiters, and they go out into the city with different masks and pull people in to be one of the Maskless.

Victoria grabs Becca and puts her before the many faces. They wait to hear a plan, but Becca doesn't really know what the mission is yet.

"So this is the mission," Eduard is explaining to her from the in front of the crowd that had once again formed a ring around the dead grass. "We have to steal a higher rank's mask. One on the white clan's side, in particular. If we can get the black mask too, that would be great."

"So... how will we do that?" Becca asks, the grass crunching and the dirt shifting stiffly under her feet.

"You tell me," Eduard says, backing up into the crowd.

Becca sighs, taking in all of the information.

She's in the spotlight.

"How can we take a mask off of someone if they never take it off?" She asks slowly, hoping for an answer. "They only do it when they shower."

"So wait until they take a shower," Someone says.

"But we don't know where they live, and even if we do manage to steal one, how will we get away with it?"

"Switch out the mask with a black one. No one will believe them."

Becca turns to Eduard, who nods.

"Looks like you've got your plan," he says. "Pick your team."

"I thought the group was going to go?" She asks.

Eduard shakes his head. "You choose who you take out of the eleven people in the Hiders. The rest of us will tag along and make sure things run smoothly."

"Um..." Becca says, her brow furrowing. She looks at Victoria for help.

Victoria takes the hint and nods, turning around. "All Hiders, step out of the circle and over there." She points and starts to walk as other people start to move as well.

After much thinking, Victoria ends up picking five people out of the group of Hiders. They dress up in all white clothing, some of them mismatched and baggy on them, but it doesn't matter. As long as they're dressed like someone in the Light Clan.

They head out to the city in their new masks. Becca feels a strange sensation of confidence as she realizes no one knows who she is. She can do whatever she wants and get away with it with just a change of the mask.

Now she understands the term mask-jumping.

They make their way to city hall, where Quill and the highest ranking white and black masks meet. There are three on each clan, and Becca doesn't really know how or why they're the highest ranking people, they just are.

The group has been split up the entire walk through the city, but they all agreed to go straight to city hall and trickle in casually. In each of their ears, which are either covered by a white cloth stuck onto the mask or by the girl's hair, there is a tiny ear bud so they can communicate with each other.

Becca enters in last, the replacement mask tied to her stomach underneath her baggy shirt. Quill and the six rankings trail behind him like a flock of birds. She watches, careful not to let them see her watching, as they walk to the door and stop to say their goodbyes. She keeps her eyes on one of the Light Clan, the only girl in the trio of white masks.

She goes out behind the last person and Quill turns to walk back to the heart of the building. He passes right by Becca as she heads for the door and gives her a slight head nod. She nods back and passes him, a slight smile playing on her lips as she feels her confidence grow.

The rest of the posse follows the white mask, trying not to make it obvious. Some of them stay back at the building, while the others walk off to watch from a distance. The only ones left are Becca, Victoria, and a boy with red polka dots all over his white mask.

By this time, night has fallen and a cool breeze makes its way through the buildings, ruffling Becca's brown hair as she enters into the building's door. The woman lives on the first floor, they realize as she begins to unlock a door, so the three of them make it look like they're going upstairs.

The white mask disappears behind a door and Becca silently shoots back down the steps, listening for the sound of running water and praying she'll just jump right in like normal white masks do.

She finally hears it, as well as the sound of a bathroom door shutting. She lifts a finger to her lips to silence the group and steps back to let Victoria pick the lock.

The door swings open without a sound and Victoria motions for Becca to step into the room. It's spotless and perfect, and the best thing about it is that it's the exact same layout and furniture her parents used to have before they had her, before they had a house, so she knows where everything is, and she still would if her eyes were closed. They used to tell her stories about their rooms when the conversations were directed toward the house. And she remembers the conversation about the renovations to make the Light and Dark Clan's rooms look different.

And because everything is the same in every room, breaking into the bathroom will be easy and not at all embarrassing, and Becca thanks God for that. The shower curtain is opaque, rather than clear like the Dark Clan's.

Becca hears the shower curtain open and close as the woman steps into the tub, and she starts to sing. It's beautiful, but Becca doesn't have the time to listen to it.

She unties the mask from underneath her shirt and slowly turns the knob of the bathroom door. The door doesn't make a sound as it opens, and the mask lies on the counter, not two feet away from her.

Becca reaches forward, her heart racing and her mind busy with the thoughts and punishments for taking—or even touching someone else's mask.

Her fingers lock around it and she pulls it back to her as she replaces it quickly and turns around to go out the door.

She hears the shower curtain move slightly, and she freezes in her spot.

"Who are you?" The voice is demanding, but it shakes a bit.

Becca sighs, her breath wobbly. She unties the knot on the back of her head, careful not to drop the stolen white mask in her hand. The borrowed black one sticks to her skin a bit, but it comes off easily into her other hand.

She turns around with her eyes on the ground and takes another breath, the confidence she had felt moments ago has declined.

Becca looks up at the woman's face poking around the light blue fabric curtain. No matter how much she wants to, no matter how much she tries, she can never go back to the Light Clan's way of living. She'll be stuck in the Dark clan for the rest of her life. And if they get caught, she won't be breathing anymore.

So why not give it all you got when all you've got is all you're going to get unless you do something about it?

Her heart pounds in her chest louder and louder, until she can barely hear herself answer the question. "I am the Face."
Chapter 10

Becca's eyes bore into the woman's as she stares back. Her light skin and blue eyes seem to shine through the harsh lighting of the standard Light Clan bathroom. She has brown hair just like Becca, which is good because Becca will be the one wearing her mask.

"You won't get away with this," she says, still hiding her body behind the opaque shower curtain.

"Maybe not," Becca says, feeling the confidence return. She finds she doesn't even recognize herself when she has this feeling, this cockiness that stood before Quill. It's almost as if she's an entirely different person. "But for now, I will."

She turns on her heel and steps out the door. She hears the curtain slip open as the woman probably starts to get dressed. Becca doesn't know if she does or not, and she doesn't care. She just has to book it out of that building.

Now.

Becca puts her mask back on and ties the woman's mask under her shirt and around her waist as she slips out into the dark of the night. Victoria and the guy with the polka-dots join her. The other Maskless that had come along start to follow one by one. All are accounted for, which means nothing had gone wrong while Becca had been in there.

A few officers rush past Becca, not giving her a second glance. She probably called the cops on her, but there's no way the woman could describe Becca's mask to them. She hadn't seen it.

Becca smiles underneath her mask as they reach the city limits. They all break out into a sprint as they run across the field, laughing and racing for the trees. When they make it to the little burned circle on the grass, they stop and take off their masks to breathe. Becca's is the first one off. She doesn't want a repeat of the day Banshee was shooting at her.

Eduard and the rest of the Maskless walk up and high-five each other.

"Good job on your first mission, Becca," he says, smiling.

Eduard takes out the ear bud from his ear and puts it in the box he carries. He brings it around the circle as it forms and everyone drops theirs in it.

"Any problems?" Eduard asks. "It was awfully quiet out there. No one was communicating with each other."

"There was only one, but we were leaving." Victoria pipes up. "The woman saw Becca."

Eduard looks at her, alerted. "She didn't see your mask, did she?"

Becca shakes her head. "I was turned around. But she saw my face."

"Okay, that's fine then. No one knows faces anyway because of all of this mask nonsense. Just don't take it off in public."

Becca's last nightmare runs through her mind as she nods. Her mask had been off and she had been burning. That wouldn't happen in real life, but does it mean something?

Everyone leaves and goes home. Becca follows Victoria. It's her turn to have Becca sleep over there, just in case someone really is looking for her, which is a high possibility. She's been shuffled between Eduard, Mikey, Nixon, and Victoria since the night Becca had been visited. The mystery still remains of who it was.

"Where should I put it?" Becca asks Victoria, who walks right beside her inside the city. "The mask, I mean?"

Victoria shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe you can stick it in my closet and just switch closets until the next mission is in play."

"Okay," Becca says as they reach the door to the apartments.

They go up a handful of floors and Victoria unlocks the door at the end of the hallway with her key.

In the center of the room, there hangs a mask from the black fan.

It's dangling from the ceiling on a thin black wire. Red blood drips down the melted and burned black surface and over the gold sparkles that somehow held onto the disfigured material.

It's Becca's old mask.

She stumbles back, Victoria pushing her a little bit behind her to protect her, if it's needed. Victoria walks in slowly, looking around just in case someone is there. She makes it to the mask and reaches up to touch it, trying to avoid the dripping blood. It's just above her head and she tries to turn it around so she can untie it from the black string.

The back is sloppily painted white, with four small words written in blood.

I know Becca Reed

Becca looks at Victoria, who turns back around, her eyes wide. There's a sound to Becca's right, where the closet sits, and Victoria looks over in that direction. She backs up, her breath shallow and her eyes wide, her head bumping the mask. A knife makes its way across the room, tumbling handle over blade, and cuts through Victoria's chest with a sickening thunk and the sound of ripping skin.

Becca leaps forward, screaming for Victoria, and looks around the corner.

Standing in front of the closet is a man not wearing a mask. A black cloak hangs from his shoulders and gently brushes the floor and trails a bit behind him. His mouth is cut open to where you can see his teeth, from the left corner of his mouth and back about three inches. It's bleeding out, and he rubs it with one of his hands, which are covered with gloves. His tan skin makes him glow in the light, and his brown hair sticks up everywhere.

He smiles cruelly at Becca, his ripped cheek making his features even more grotesque and insane beneath the lighting above the mask.

Victoria sputters as she tries to breathe. Becca can't take her eyes off the man as he starts to walk to the door. She holds Victoria in her arms, feeling her body shudder.

As soon as the man's back is turned, she pulls the knife out. A cry from the quickly fading Victoria tears through the room.

"Change... the world... Becca..." Victoria whispers. Her body goes limp and Becca hears the man finish leaving the room.

Her heart fills with anger and her mind explodes with rage.

She runs out into the hall, the man turning to head down the stairs.

"Hey!" Becca screams, her voice high and shrill.

The man turns around, his face seeming almost normal until he smiles again. There's a light in his eyes that tells Becca he isn't right in the head.

She doesn't hesitate as she lifts the knife up and throws it. It sticks into his left shoulder. The man doesn't cry out, doesn't make a move. His smile just stretches wider as the blood from his cheek drips down his neck and as the blood beneath the knife soaks into the black sleeve covering his shoulder.

Becca takes a step back, coming to her senses.

She'd just tried to kill someone out of rage.

She didn't even think about it.

Her hands go to her head as she starts to panic. Her breathing goes shallow and her vision is blurry. She feels the wall against her back suddenly, and she finds her way to the cold, hard ground.

She'd just tried to kill somebody. It doesn't matter what she did, she just tried to kill him...

She looks up to see if he's still there. She doesn't know what she'd do if he was—run away maybe? Hide? —But she looks anyway.

And he's gone.

Chapter 11

Becca walks back into the room, her body shaking violently. Victoria's eyes are wide open and empty of life. Her blood is still running out of her chest and soaking into the dark carpet beneath her. The mask swings slightly from the ceiling, turning little by little as the fan above it moves the air around the room at a slow pace.

Becca falls to her knees beside the body of Victoria, too deep in shock to cry or say anything. Instead, she feels only a gut wrenching aching inside of her that sends tremors through every inch of her body.

Victoria is dead and the guy that killed her is alive. Would she be such a monster if she had killed him? If the knife had flown perfectly into his heart?

"I'm sorry," she whispers, a tear falling down her cheek.

She watches Victoria to make sure she's not alive, to make sure she's... dead.

And then, slowly she stands up and walks over to the bloody mask. She unties it and holds it as if it's something that could kill her.

. . .

"She's what?" Eduard says, stumbling back a little. "How...?"

Becca looks at the mask in her hands. The words are smudging together now as the blood runs down the white paint.

"There was a man... I don't know..." Becca's eyes are watering. "I'm sorry."

Eduard shakes his head and turns away, leaving Mikey and Twitch standing in front of Becca instead.

"Well what now?" Nixon asks, trying to look unfazed by the death.

They all look at Becca, the lighting of the abandoned room casting eerie shadows on their masks as they wait for an answer to fix everything. An answer that Becca doesn't have.

She looks up, feeling the weight of their lives, the weight of their trust in her. She isn't the leader, Eduard is, even though he says she is. But she's the one they look to now.

She glances at Eduard, who leans against the back wall with his head against the rough surface. He isn't going to answer the question for her.

It's time for her to.

"I say none of us go home anymore. Obviously he knows where I am—where we are... And I don't know if this will happen to just us in here, or to everyone in the Maskless. But for right now, it's just us. Just us can go out in the woods and hide from him. From whoever this man is, whoever he's working for."

"So you think he's working for someone?" Nixon asks, stepping forward.

Becca shrugs and looks back over at Eduard, who hasn't moved a muscle. "Otherwise, how would he know about us? How would he know where we are? No one's that crazy to obsess over us and want us killed. And even on that note, no one would play games like he is and kill Victoria—" Becca's voice cracks. "And not me."

Mikey and Nixon nod, and Twitch stares at the mask with a horrified expression, his mask the only one off. He starts moving his hands around each other as they twitch uncontrollably.

"What is it, Twitch?" Nixon asks, his voice alarmed.

He looks up at Nixon and then at Becca. He does this two more times as he backs up two steps, before he looks back down at the mask Becca holds.

"Twitch?" Mikey asks.

"That—that mask..." He says. "That's why..."

"Why what?" Nixon presses, walking towards the nervous boy.

"The man wanted it. He asked for it."

Becca's eyes go wide beneath her mask and Eduard steps forward, snapping out of his trance.

"What man, Twitch?" He asks.

"The man in the black mask."

Chapter 12

"What man?" Becca asks, her breathing shallowing out. "What man in the black mask?"

Twitch looks around the room, shifting his weight nervously and wringing his hands.

"He—he walked up to me after we tried to burn your mask. He said he wanted it."

"And you just gave it to him?" Eduard starts to shout.

"I'm—I'm sorry—"

"You're sorry, Twitch?!" Veins start to pop from Eduard's neck. "Victoria is dead because of you!"

Eduard shoves Twitch suddenly, and he falls to the ground. Twitch's face twists into a mixture of pure guilt and fear. Becca finds herself stepping forward, almost as if to protect him, but she stops short as Eduard looks at her suddenly.

"We'll do it." He says quietly. "Everyone get your things together. We leave tonight."

. . .

Becca doesn't have many things to pack up as she looks around her room. She brings her blanket and pillow, and she packs some toiletries, not knowing when exactly she'd be able to shower or brush her teeth again.

She shoves them in her backpack and slings it over her shoulder. She can hear her old mask in the bottom getting crushed, but she doesn't care. She'd be happy if it had disappeared completely.

Becca takes one more look around, reminding herself that this is the last time she'd ever be in her own room. This is the start of something new, something dangerous, something radical.

There's no going back.

Not now. Not ever.

She starts to turn around, when something catches her eye.

Behind the back corner of the bed, crushed between the bottom leg of the bed and the wall, something black lies.

She makes her way over to it, caution in her step as her eyes focus on its glossy surface.

She reaches for it and pulls it out as she sits on the cold wooden floor. It's a box with rounded corners and a little bit bigger than her hand. The lid has two letters engraved onto it in gold cursive: B. F. She runs her fingers over it, feeling the grooves and wondering what they stand for.

On the front of the box is a gold keyhole, matching the color of the letters. She looks around for a key, if someone left one. Becca pulls up the skirt of the bed and her eyes catch on a shiny piece of metal. She reaches under and, with much difficulty, finally pulls it to her.

The gold metal of the key is cold against her fingertips as she looks at it. It seems like it's the key to the box, and not just because it's the only key mysteriously placed in her room, but also because the color is the same and it's the right size for the keyhole.

It slips in with a small clunk, and unlocks the box with a louder click as Becca turns it with her right hand.

The lid pops off slightly and she lifts it up the rest of the way, her heart pounding in her chest and telling her that maybe she should have left it alone.

She catches a glimpse of what's in the box and suddenly wants to drop it.

Her eyes are glued to what is inside of it, and her hands seem to be frozen solid in their position, unable to let go.

Who put this here? She thinks, her brain panicky. And then another thought surfaced. Who had been in my room that night?

"Becca, you ready?"

Becca jumps at the sound of Mikey's voice, slamming the box closed. She nods and gulps the spit that had gathered inside her mouth.

"Alright. Well, we're headed down now." Mikey says, shrugging to help move his backpack into more of a comfortable position. He stands there a moment before disappearing from Becca's doorway.

She listens to his footsteps as they recede.

She looks back at the box, her thumb holding it open slightly.

Slowly, she opens it back up and looks at the contents held inside. She picks it up, the black metal cold like the key had been. The weight makes her hand sag towards the ground slightly, her wrist bending a tiny bit. It's not as big as a normal one...

She looks back down at the box. In the center of the velvet mold of the object, sits a white piece of paper.

You'll be alone. This shall bring you comfort.

She reads the words over and over on the paper and drops what she holds in her hands back into the box she had set on the floor. She stares at it, not able to take her eyes off of it.

How could something like this bring me comfort? She thinks to herself as she looks back at the item in her other hand.

Becca feels something unsettling in her heart, as if the note speaks the deepest truths she can't admit to even herself. Disgusted with her thoughts, she throws the object back in the box and slams it shut, locking it back up.

Who had been in her room that night? Did they put this box inside of her room? Had this been in here this whole time? Why did they give this to her? Why would it bring her comfort?

She tries to put the wooden box down, but her hands won't let go. Her brain says she'll need it. Her brain won't let her leave it.

So she shoves it in her bag, hearing the mask at the bottom of her bag bend even more. She pushes the box down harder, not completely understanding why she does it, and hears the satisfactory sound of it crack into two below.

She stands up and places the bag on her shoulders. Her small circle of Maskless companions head down the stairs, and she catches the tail end of them, trying to consciously forget about the gun she conceals in her backpack.
Chapter 13

The moon shines through the leaves overhead as Becca shifts the backpack's weight on her shoulders. The weapon inside seems to make it even heavier as she walks. Who would give her a gun? Who would want to give anyone a gun?

Her mind drifts to the moment where Banshee had held her at gunpoint, just before she knew she would die—thought she would die.

Becca shudders.

Ahead, Eduard is planning something with Nixon. She thinks it's strange how she's the so-called "leader", and yet everyone mostly turns to Eduard.

Maybe he's the brains, she thinks. And then, with less seriousness, Maybe I'm just the Face.

She chuckles and shakes her head.

Just when she thinks they can't go any deeper into the trees, they take a hard right and the trees get even denser than she thought they could.

"Careful," Mikey says to her, a grin on his face. "There's some vicious animals out here."

Becca's eyes go wide under her mask.

"He's just kiddin'," Nixon chimes in. "Nothing's gonna eat you."

Becca nods and looks at the forest floor, suddenly feeling like every movement around her is amplified.

"Let's stop here," Eduard says as he turns around and drops his stuff to the dry earth. "We've only got a few hours to sleep. So get on it."

The rest of them follow suit as Becca watches, not knowing where to place her stuff.

She eventually makes her way over to Eduard, who has just finished placing his sheets down and covering them with his blanket from his room. He's digging in his bag for something as she walks up.

He looks up at her, still rummaging through his backpack. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Becca says a little too quickly, glad she has her mask on to cover her blushing face. "Um... where should I set my stuff?"

Eduard looks at her for a moment longer and shrugs. "Right there if you want."

She nods slightly, feeling awkward. "You wouldn't mind?"

Eduard shakes his head. "Go ahead."

She nods and kneels down to set her stuff on the leaves. The zipper seems to echo off the bark of the trees as Becca moves it down the top of the bag. She almost wishes it were silent, considering Mikey could be right about the animals.

She looks through the open part and down at the black box with the letters on top.

"What's that?" She hears Eduard ask.

Becca jumps and closes the backpack really fast, afraid to see what would happen if he knew what was concealed inside that box.

"Nothing," she says, again too quickly.

Becca pulls out everything from her bag and pushes the box down to where her broken, melted, bloody mask lies. She copies Eduard with how she makes her bed and sits on top of the blanket, touching the cool zippers of the backpack while the thoughts of the gun antagonize her. What if she needs it? Will she need it while she's out here? Will an animal attack her?

"Hm."

Becca looks up to see Eduard looking at her closely. His mask is off and his eyes are full of thought and his face is filled with concern.

"What?" She asks, suddenly embarrassed. "Is there something on my mask?"

A small smile appears on the left side of his mouth, but it's gone almost as soon as it appears.

"Take off your mask," he says hypnotically.

Becca's hands fly to her face. "Why?"

"Because. You don't want it on."

Becca knows he's right, but she's just so afraid...

Why be afraid when you have nothing else to lose? She thinks to herself.

"But I—"

"Here," he says, scooting over to her and reaching up for the knot behind her head. Becca's heart flutters and her hands press lightly against the cool material of the mask so that it doesn't immediately fall to the ground.

She feels the ribbons go slack and dangle around her face as the knot comes untied. She slowly moves the mask from her face and takes a deep breath of air, the cool feeling of something missing becoming more and more familiar to her skin.

"There," Eduard smiles. "Beautiful."

She looks at him suddenly, something moving inside of her that she thought she'd never feel. Could it be the thing called love? The thing talked about so much but never really felt inside of the city? She believes her parents were in love, but they never saw each other's faces. They never had the chance to know each other before getting married, before having her. Not like this.

Could this be it?

Becca looks away as Nixon calls Eduard over to talk to him. Becca's face is on fire as she looks down at the mask she holds, the one that gives her a whole different personality and name.

Her eyes move back to Eduard, who stands above Nixon in the shattered moonlight that filters through the leaves above. She's not even sure if love is a real thing, or how it's possible she could feel this way quite suddenly...

He turns back towards Becca, heading towards his sheets, and she jumps, afraid he'd seen her staring. She places the mask beside her pillow and starts to put her legs underneath the comforter. Eduard moves his sheet back too and slips underneath them, placing his head on his own pillow.

What if these feeling aren't sudden? What if she's felt this way since the day she met him, since the day he was banished from the Light Clan? What if that's why she remembered him after all of these years?

Don't be silly, she tells herself as she looks at him. The only thing she felt towards him was pure shock and sadness when Quill sent him to the Dark Clan. And then a bit of curiosity when he had been writing in that journal...

"Hey, Eduard?" She finds herself asking.

"Yeah?" He asks, looking over his shoulder at her.

She swallows nervously. "What is it that you wrote in your journal that day we had that assembly?"

He pauses.

"I wrote—"

A growl cuts off his words. Becca's blood runs cold as she turns around, coming face-to-face to an animal that could rip her to shreds.

Chapter 14

The large feline seems to glare at the group of misfits as they freeze in terror. The long, slender body of the mountain lion is rigid. They had set up camp inside the predator's territory.

Becca feels her heart rate speed up, the blood thumping through the veins of her neck and the sound echoing in her ears as the big cat pulls back her lips and reveals her pointy teeth. A low snarl reverberates from behind them again, sending chills and waves of fear through Becca.

She begins to uncover herself and the mountain lion snaps her head to look at her, making Becca stop where she is. Her breathing is shallow and her mouth is dry. Could this be the end? Could the cat keep up with all of them? Could she get away if she ran and left them behind?

She stops herself. What a horrible thought... Why would she wish someone else were dead so she could live?

Becca takes a deep breath and begins to reach forward for the bag, for the box. She could use it just once, just this once, and that would be all.

She makes sure she isn't making eye contact with the puma, making sure she establishes she's not a threat.

Her hand gets closer to the bag and the cat growls again. She freezes as the mountain lion takes a step toward her.

Becca hears Eduard jump up and sees the animal switch her attention to him as he tries to make himself look intimidating and bigger. This does nothing, and the puma growls again.

"Mikey," she hears Nixon saying quietly. "Mikey, calm down, dude!"

"I can't! There's a freaking tiger right there, Nixon!"

"It's not a tiger—"

"I don't care. I'm out!"

"Mikey!" Nixon shouts as the mountain lion looks over in his direction and start to run towards them

Everyone gets up at once and starts to run. Becca is at the back of the group, not as good at running as them. The large cat is gaining on them, and Becca can hear each footfall of the mountain lion with every stretch as it closes in on them. Just one leap...

Becca takes a hard turn. She doesn't know why she takes it, whether it's to lead the puma away from the group or to get away from it herself, but she does.

The cat follows, growling and snarling behind her. Becca had gained some distance by taking the animal off guard, but it still runs pretty close to her.

Becca looks over her shoulder in time to see a rock hit the puma's head. The cat stops and turns to its right, where the rock had come from.

Eduard had thrown the rock.

The mountain lion leaps in his direction and chases him. Becca watches for a moment, not knowing what to do. She could run... or she could save him.

She shakes her head and sprints back to their little campsite, not as neat as it had been just moments before. She reaches into her backpack and pulls out the box with the gun in it and unlocks it. The gun seems to scare her and excite her at the same time as she pulls it out, feeling the weight bend her hand back a bit.

She throws the box back into the bag and she stands up, listening for the sounds of the mountain lion chasing Eduard.

She hears a roar and a shout.

Becca takes off running toward the sounds, carefully holding the gun to where it can't shoot anything if she pulled the trigger by accident.

She reaches them. The mountain lion is on top of Eduard, and he's trying to push it away, trying to fight back. Becca lifts the gun up to fire, scared of what's to come, hoping she's not misjudging, and pulls the trigger.

A part of the mountain lion's skin explodes, blood dribbling out of the bullet hole, and she shoots again. The puma falls onto Eduard and he shoves it off. Becca stands with the gun in between both of her hands, her whole body shaking.

She stares at the mountain lion. She feels Eduard's hands wrap around her. She feels him take the gun from her hands. She feels the tears fall from her eyes and trickle down her face. She feels numb.

But she can't help but think, Why does it feel so natural? She doesn't feel sad for the animal. She doesn't feel happy Eduard's alive, although she should. She doesn't feel heroic because she saved him. She's numb. She's numb and cold, and for some strange, unknown reason, she feels like it was right. She feels like she needed to kill that mountain lion. But why?

Am I... She thinks to herself, not wanting to finish the thought. Am I... becoming like Banshee?

She shakes her head as she returns back to reality, Eduard's heart beating fast against her ear. She saved him. She saved everyone.

But what did that brave deed cost her?

And what will it cost her in the future, should she make the decision do it again?

Becca can feel Eduard leading her back to the campsite, settlement—she doesn't care what they call it. But whatever it is, she wishes it would all go away.

The last thing she sees before she goes to sleep is the sunrise. The pinks and oranges bleeding through the green trees above her.

Although these last sights are almost happy, Becca's dreams are anything but.

Chapter 15

Becca wakes as someone shakes her shoulders. Her body is covered in sweat and her mouth is dry. Eduard is kneeling over her, his face twisted into worry as he stares into her eyes. Her body is partially sitting up, and she feels the familiar sting in the back of her throat. She had had a nightmare.

It all comes flooding back to her, the fire, the masks... it had been the same dream she had had the night someone visited her while she was asleep. But it was slightly different. This time, it wasn't her about to get shot while Banshee holds the gun, but Eduard—with her finger on the trigger.

That's when she woke up. She started screaming and crying in her dream to try to make herself stop, but her body wouldn't obey. She was going to shoot him, no matter what.

And now the irony of that same boy waking her up to the unrealness of the dream... What is it all supposed to mean? Is it supposed to mean anything?

"Are you okay, Becca?" Eduard asks as she looks at him with wide eyes. She doesn't know whether to be relieved or scared. But scared of what? Scared of him? Scared of herself?

She nods and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes drift to the mask at her bedside and suddenly she wants to put it back on. Maybe she wouldn't have these nightmares if she wore it. Maybe she could disappear from sight, from the Maskless, and no one would ever find her. She could have a family, a job... she could leave this all behind.

But I can't... She tells herself as she looks away and back at Eduard. I can't leave them...

However much she wishes it were true that she could, she knows she can't. She feels too strongly for the group, for Eduard, and she actually does want to make a difference.

But what if she dies trying?

"Do you want to go for a walk?" Eduard asks quietly.

Becca nods slightly before she can stop herself, and he gently grabs her hand to help her up.

The sun is rising. She was probably only asleep for an hour or two, but feels as if that's all she needs. She doesn't want to go back to sleep, afraid more twisted dreams await for her to put her head in its spindly claws.

"What'd you dream about?" He asks as they walk on through the trees. Eduard looks behind him every now and then, and Becca guesses that it's to keep track of where they are and where they have been so that they can get back to camp easily.

Becca shakes her head, not wanting to talk about it, especially to the boy she was going to shoot dead in her dream.

"What do you think it takes to be driven mad?" Becca asks quietly.

"What, like, crazy?" Eduard chuckles a little bit and shrugs. "I don't know. All I know is a lot of people end up going crazy here." He pauses, the silence almost agonizingly painful for Becca as she tries to get her head on straight.

"I guess that's another reason why we're doing it..." He goes on. "People need help and no one's giving it to them because they're on the Dark Clan."

Becca nods. It makes sense. The black masks don't get as much treatment as the white masks because of purity issues. Becca starts to feel the emotions of pity for the second group, a small fire growing slightly inside of her, but only lasting for a moment and waiting to reappear for when she needs it again.

"What are we going to do?" Eduard asks her.

"What?"

"Yeah. What are we going to do?"

"Um... uh, why are you asking me this?"

"Because you're the Face."

"But you know all the battle strategies and stuff," Becca says, her brain finally woken up from the nightmare. "I just do what I'm told."

Eduard shakes his head slowly and sighs. "Fine. What we need to do is get you back in there to make your way to Quill and find a way to bring him down. Do you know how you could do that?"

Becca shakes her head. "But I can try."

Eduard nods in agreement. "If we can break a part of the system, maybe we can bring the entire thing down. If not, maybe we can work our way up from there. We just need to figure it out before they figure us out. So. When will you want to head back out there?"

She sighs and claps her hands together thoughtfully, taking it all in. "I guess today would be okay... I just have to not blow my cover."

"You can do it," Eduard smiles as he touches her shoulder.

Becca smiles back politely, trying to cover up the fear inside of her. She has to face Quill again...

"You never told me what you..." Becca's voice trails off as her eyes lay upon a black mask a few trees in front of them.

Banshee would have blended in with the forest if the sunlight hadn't been streaming from behind him, and Becca would have run straight into him.

Eduard stops as she does, and they stare at the man, different thoughts running through their minds.

"Ask," Becca hears Banshee say. "Ask."

Eduard looks at her questionably, but Becca ignores it and turns back to the man she's seen so much of since she chose to be on the Light Clan. Why is he following her? Why does he say what he does?

She decides to ask him, but she can't get any one of the questions out. She stands gaping at the man in black in front of her, racking her brain for words so she can speak English to him, and not nervous gibberish that flings off her tongue.

"Ask!" Banshee screams, the impatience tearing at his insides trying to escape into his voice.

"Why are you following me?" Becca asks. "Why do you want me dead?"

The man moves his head slightly to the side and cackles, his shoulders shaking with the laughter. What had driven this man to be so mad?

"I am following you because one day you will be dead. One day you will be alone. One day you will need me."

"I'm sorry, Banshee, but I'm never going to need you," Becca says harshly, feeling the side of her she's just now getting to know slip out. "And everyone will die eventually, whoop-dee-do."

The man moves his head a bit, his body looking like she hurt him. She almost feels sorry for him. Almost.

"Oh, Becca!" He cries suddenly. He walks forward hastily and stops right before her, Eduard bucking up a bit in case he needs to protect her. "Becca, Becca, Becca... you aren't pure... that's why you needed the black mask. That's why you needed to die at the court meeting. But you didn't die." He cranes his neck to look at Eduard. "He didn't let you die." Banshee takes a deep breath and looks back at Becca. "You'll be alone one day. All alone. And he won't be there to protect you." He laughs hysterically and backs up a bit.

"What are you talking about, Banshee?" Becca asks, the masked man starting to grind her gears. Her breathing is shallow and her brain is going insane with the presence of this man, not letting her think straight.

"I'm talking about the future, Becca Reed."

"No one can predict the future," Becca hisses. "You're wrong about what will happen, Banshee."

"Am I, Becca Reed?" He chuckles, and leans forward towards her face. "Am I... Your mask!"

The man shoots back up into a standing position and searches frantically for her mask. She looks at Eduard and nods. She wants to get away.

She turns around to walk with Eduard, who places his hand between her shoulder blades to escort her to the campsite. He looks back at Banshee, who is still searching for the long lost mask.

"No!" She hears Banshee screech.

His hands are on her shoulders before anyone can react. Banshee pulls her down to the ground, her head hitting the dirt and her lungs losing the air they hold inside. He sits on top of her so she doesn't move as much, saying things Becca doesn't understand. Banshee's weight fluctuates as Eduard pulls at him and as he smashes mud in Becca's face. Banshee's gloves feel rough on her face, almost as rough as...

It was him.

She was right.

Becca tries to shove him off, suddenly in the light about everything she's been doubting the past few days...

Abruptly, Banshee stops wiping the mud on her face and looks down at the artwork he had created on her face.

"That's better," He says in a soothing, relaxed tone as Eduard rips him away from her.

Becca takes that moment to stand and rip off Banshee's mask. The sound of the ribbons tearing apart frightens Becca.

And she watches the face appear as she takes away the mask, she watches the brown hair move out from under the black material that had been sewn to the mask, she watches as the face with the long scar appears, the face that had killed Victoria.

Chapter 16

Becca stares at Banshee incredulously.

She had been right about someone framing her, but Victoria... He killed Victoria... It's been him the whole time.

She feels a wave of stupidity wash over her. Why didn't she realize this sooner? How long...?

She looks at the mask in her hand for a moment, then drops it in realization of what she holds. It's the face, the mask of the man who has haunted her and followed her around her entire life.

"You," she says in an angry, trembling voice. "It's been you all along... You're the one that got me banished, you're the one that killed that man, that killed Victoria..." She looks at her hands, the image of them covered in blood flashing before her eyes. "You're a murderer."

Banshee stands up and smiles. Becca can see where the knife she had thrown at him that day had cut through his shirt and into his shoulder, and where it's starting to scab over.

"Becca, Becca, Becca," Banshee says quietly.

"You're insane," she whispers as she backs up, feeling Eduard behind her. "You're insane."

"And you're not far off."

"What?" Becca asks as Banshee takes a step towards her.

"We're all just a little bit of crazy, Becca Reed," Banshee says in a low tone, eeriness dripping from each syllable.

"I'd say you're more than just a little—"

"DO NOT INTERRUPT ME, BECCA REED!" He screams, and Becca trips, sending her body into Eduard, who catches her. He says nothing, doesn't even look down at her as he holds on to her, but he keeps his eyes trained on Banshee, watching his every move.

Banshee smiles, the cut side of his face stitched up. It reminds Becca of a skeleton. He's just a skeleton of a man with no sympathy—or maybe too much sympathy...

"If you think anyone is sane, you don't know them well enough."

"I know you well enough to know that you're the epitome of insanity," Becca hisses, not knowing what else to say to the man.

He laughs. "Thank you."

Becca glares at him.

"Oh, Becca Reed," Banshee says as he walks forward, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "We live in a mad world. An insane world. In this mad world, only the mad are the sane."

"You killed people, Banshee," Becca spits as she stands up completely. "That's not something a sane person would do!"

"Or would they?" Banshee smiles. "Obviously, you haven't looked around you. Obviously, you haven't asked enough questions. Why don't you ask questions, Becca? Why don't you see what's going on around you? Why do you agree with it? Why do you fall into slavery?"

"It's not slavery, Banshee. Now leave me alone!"

"I'll never leave you alone, Becca."

"Leave me alone!"

"Becca."

"Go!"

The man smiles a disgusting smile, a smile that sends chills up Becca Reed's spine. What is wrong with this man? And why does he follow her around and pop up in places he shouldn't be?

"I'll leave you alone, then, since you wish it," he chuckles. "Just know that one day you will be alone."

Becca's breath stops in her chest. Fire seems to take its place as she jumps forward with her hands outstretched. She pushes Banshee down and hits him in the face with her palms, not knowing how to fight correctly. Banshee lies still with his back against the leaves and doesn't fight back.

Eduard's hands grip Becca's shoulders and haul her off of the man, who stares up at the leaves attached to the very much alive trees above, a smile slowly spreading across his contorted face.

"The dreams, Becca," he says. Banshee sits up suddenly and looks at the duo standing before him with an insane smile. "The Dreams, Becca. Don't forget the dreams."

"What?" She yells as she twists out of Eduard's hands. Inside she's fuming, but outside she doesn't know how to express it. Her body trembles with hatred and with anger...

"Remember the dreams."

"What dreams?" She says as Eduard places a hand on her shoulder. Vignette dances around her vision as she tries to catch her breath.

"The dreams, Becca... the dreams..."

With that, he's on his feet and running the opposite direction of the Maskless' little camp. Becca takes off after him, hearing the protests of Eduard follow behind her. The dreams... she has to know about the dreams. Why does she have to remember them? What about them? What's so significant of something her subconscious made up while she was sleeping? Why remember the stories her brain strung across her eyelids. Why remember something so insignificant?

Banshee is gone.

She stops in the middle of the forest, not knowing where she is, not knowing where she ran to, where she is now. She doesn't know the way back. She doesn't care about going back. All she wants is answers. All she wants is out.

But something inside of her pulls toward the city, toward Quill. Something wants justice inside of her, something wants change. She doesn't want life to be this way anymore. She doesn't want anyone else to hide behind the masks given to them their entire life. She doesn't want to be afraid of the government anymore. She doesn't want to be afraid of punishment. So she won't be.

Eduard's footfalls get louder as he approaches her.

Becca turns around, a new pair of eyes looking out from her eye sockets. A new brain, a new way of thinking blossoming from inside of her skull.

"Let's do it," she says, wiping the mud from her face. "We head into the city now."

"Are you sure?" Eduard asks, doubtful.

Becca nods, the fire still burning inside of her. "As sure as the sun rose this morning. Which way is camp?"

He points back behind him. "That way. But, Becca, look at what—"

"I don't care. Let's get this over with."

"Becca, it takes more than a day—"

"I. Don't. Care. Eduard. Once we get this started, we can't stop. We keep pushing through as soon as I get that mask on and go into the city, and we won't stop until we bring Quill down." Becca starts to head in the direction of the camp.

"We can't do that until we understand him, Becca."

"I know that. That's what I'm going to do," she says as she peeks over her shoulder at him. "And then I'm going to break him."

"Becca—"

"Come on. The longer we take, the more time they have to find us."

They reach the camp. Nixon, Mikey, and Twitch all look up as Becca stops at the edge of their bedding. She tells them the plan and reaches into her bag, taking out the woman's mask. She had placed it so that it wouldn't get damaged.

They get the things they need together, planning to get everyone else when they head into the city. Becca slips on the white clothing she has, a long skirt and a long-sleeved shirt, and ties her hair up in a bun. She and Eduard make their way to the edge of the forest with Nixon trailing behind to deliver the message of the plan to the rest of the Maskless.

Becca takes one last look at the city she grew up in before slipping on the mask and tying it behind her head, the biggest sense of cockiness and confidence she's ever had slipping into her step as they walk towards the city.

Here I come, Quill...

Becca Reed smiles to herself, feeling the gun against her back and knowing she'll be victorious. Knowing she has the opportunity to change the world.

One more small thought slips into her brain before she dismisses it as a stupid thing to doubt.

What if nothing changes at all?

Chapter 17

Getting into the city of masks is an easy thing to do when you aren't hidden behind the mask of one of the most important people inside of it.

Becca receives several hello's and how-are-you's as she walks down the street. She tries not to respond, afraid her voice will give her away. That fact never crossed her mind as she was creating the plan.

She marches on anyway, headed directly for city hall with her fingers crossed in hope that no one notices that she's not who she says she is.

Eduard keeps himself near her, ready to spring into action now that Victoria isn't around to save Becca's butt if anything goes wrong.

Becca makes her way up the front steps of the big building, taking deep breaths and trying not to psych herself out, though she knows that one wrong move could mean her death.

"Excuse me, Belle," a man says, stepping out in front of Becca. "Your ID?"

"My ID?" Becca asks, trying to sound more mature than she is.

"Yes ma'am. We were told to start checking them since someone claimed you were an imposter."

Becca laughs, hoping he doesn't hear the nervousness present in her voice. "Imposter? Heaven's no," she says, trying to impersonate her mother. Maybe that's what Belle had sounded like. "I'm sorry, sir, I think I might have left my ID at home." Becca pats her pockets. "I was not warned I needed it."

The man nods, his white mask covered with red lines, reminding Becca of a plaid shirt.

"I understand, ma'am. Just have it next time, please? If you lost it, you can get another one just inside."

"Thank you," Becca nods and begins to walk away, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Miss Belle?" The man calls again, making Becca's heart beat a thousand times faster than normal as she turns around.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay? You sound... different."

"I'm perfectly fine," Becca says, smiling underneath her mask even though he can't see her. "I'm just a bit sick."

He seems to buy it as he turns around, nodding.

Becca tries to open the doors calmly, but she feels like she opens them too fast and steps through too eagerly. She takes a few deep breaths to calm herself down.

"Calm down," she hears Eduard through her earpiece. "You don't want to alarm anybody."

Becca makes her way to the center of the building, looking for the ID place. Should she get one? Probably, if she doesn't want to get stopped next time. The next guard most likely won't be as nice as the one out there now.

There's a short wooden counter with the word ID plastered on the front of it in bold blue letters. Becca walks up to it, and the man behind the counter wearing a white mask with purple swirls on his cheeks looks up at her.

"Hello, Belle. How can I help you?"

"I need another ID. I seem to have misplaced my old one."

"Right," he says. "Understood, we all do that. I just need you to tell me your birthdate."

"My birthdate?" Becca says. "Why do you need that?"

"To confirm you're the real you."

Becca laughs. "Isn't my mask enough to prove that I am who I say I am..." she looks down at his nametag placed on his left shirt pocket. "...Marv?"

He sighs. "I know, Belle, but someone claimed that you were an imposter."

"By who? A white-mask?" She spits.

"No, a black—"

"Then why are you even listening to them? That's what the Black Clan does, Marv! They lie and cheat and steal. Do you have a brain up there?" Becca turns around to see Quill, hoping she can use him as an excuse to get away. "There's Quill. He wouldn't be happy about you holding me up, now would he?"

"I guess not but, Belle—"

"Give me the stupid ID card right now."

It takes a moment for Marv to get to work. He finally prints one out from the tiny printer placed at his left side and hands it to Becca.

"Thank you," she says and turns around.

Quill is walking up to her, but she tries not to panic.

"There's the Belle I know," Quill says, laughing. "Always pushing someone around."

Becca feels a surge of pride as she shrugs casually. She'd pulled off Belle. Good. She just has to keep acting like a jerk then, she hopes.

Quill drapes one arm around her as he walks through the center of the building, pulling her away from the ID desk.

"So, how's my number one doing?" He asks.

"Just a bit under the weather," Becca responds, hoping he doesn't recognize her voice.

"Ah. Well I hope that doesn't change the way you make decisions," he chuckles. "Remember: we're meeting in an hour to discuss what we've all come up with. Meet me back here then, or else."

"Or else?" Becca asks before she can stop herself.

Quill chuckles. "You know what else, Belle. See you in an hour."

He releases her and heads back the other way.

Two more people flock to her. One of them is a girl and has bright pink and gold sparkles all over her mask, and the other one is a man with sharp, yellow designs all over his. They're holding up papers and the girl holds a cup with a small straw to fit through the small hole in the mask where Becca's mouth is.

"Here are your papers for the meeting," the man says as he hands her the stack of papers he holds.

"And here's your coffee," the girl says.

Becca had never had coffee before. She slips the straw through the hole as she listens to the two people ramble about the meeting.

They start talking about masks and that the government should start taking pictures of people's faces with their mask so they know whose mask is whose, but Becca isn't listening because of the coffee. It touches her tongue and she decides she doesn't like it. She hands it back to the girl, disgusted by the coffee's presence.

"What do you think about it?" The girl asks as she takes the cup from Becca.

Becca shrugs. "I don't know."

"But you always have an opinion on what to do," the man says as they walk through the halls and Becca follows them as they take a right down a hallway. Where are they going?

"Well, okay," Becca says, having to remind herself that she's not Becca, but Belle. "Our society is built on these masks that hide our faces and by taking photos of them, it would contradict the whole system."

"How so?" The girl asks and Becca stifles a groan.

"Because our faces show our shame and our guilt," Becca says with some sadness playing in her voice realizing what she's saying. "We're supposed to hide that, and when we take pictures of our faces, those regrets and guilts are stuck in time and will never change."

The two people grow quiet as they walk down the hallway and stop at a door. Had Becca said the right thing?

"Alright," the girl says, opening the door and walking inside. "Now we just have to tell Quill about it, and we only have an hour to make our case."

. . .

The hour goes by fast as they talk about the pictures of the faces. If they started doing that, the Maskless would be discovered immediately. None of them have their original masks, except for Becca, who keeps hers broken and melted at the bottom of her backpack below her gun.

They meet up with Quill in the center of the building. The girl, whose name is Paige, and the man, who's name is Damien, leave Becca with a folder of research and the leader. The other five people show up and Quill claps his hands together once.

"Let's get started, shall we?" He says, looking at each person standing around him. He starts to walk in the other direction of the building, and the highest ranking white and black masks shuffle after him like bugs chasing a light.

"Now what about the pictures for the faces and masks together?" Quill asks after a few of the other masks had spoken. Becca jumps forward and tells him what she knows about it (what she learned from the past hour) and why she stands the way she does.

Quill nods and turns around toward the people following after him, walking backwards.

"Someone has a brain!" He exclaims, laughing. "Excuse us for a moment."

He grabs Becca's arm and pulls her through a door to their left without missing a step. He lets go as she steps through the doorway, trying to look as grown-up as possible. He shuts the door while his back is turned to her.

"So you're against it?" He says, turning around.

"Yes sir. I believe that it would contradict everything we stand for."

"Everything I stand for, you mean?" Quill seems to growl, and it takes Becca by surprise.

"Excuse me?" She asks politely.

He quickly walks forward toward her and pushes her up against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Fear makes her feel cold and her stomach ties itself in knots.

"I will find out who you are, imposter. Just watch your back. You call yourself the Face of the rebellion but why choose that name when you grew up without one? Your 'friends' are only using you. You don't know who you are. You're not a face, you're just an empty mask."

Becca watches in horror as his black eyeholes stare into hers. She almost feels like he's going to melt the mask off of her face and find out she is, though he's never seen what she looks like.

"I'm sorry," she chokes out. "I have no idea—"

"Yes. Yes you do. And you can't take my power from me."

He lets go of her shoulders and turns around to head back out the door. Becca can hear the voices of the masks outside in the hallway as Quill steps out.

The door clicks behind him, leaving her all alone in the room and not knowing what to do next.

Chapter 18

"He knows," Becca says as she presses the small button on her earpiece that allows Eduard to hear her voice.

"What?" She hears Eduard chirp. "What do you mean 'he knows'?"

"I mean, he knows I'm not who I say I am."

"What? Okay what happened?"

"He—"

The door opens and Becca jumps, her hand flying down to be at her side.

"Belle?" A man says as he walks in. He's one of the white masks from the group following Quill. "I was wondering where you were—we're headed outside. Are you coming?"

Becca hesitates. She wonders how much information she can get out of this group before Quill takes her out or dismisses her. But should she go is the question?

She shakes her head. "No, I'm not going. I feel... Um, I'm feeling a little sick."

"Oh, well, okay. Are you sure?" The man pauses in the doorway.

Becca nods in response.

"Okay... I'll catch you up later then," the man says as he nods and turns to walk out.

Becca waits for him to leave before rushing out herself. She bursts out the front doors and presses a button on her earpiece as she disappears into an alleyway.

"Steal as many masks as you can, doesn't matter what color," she tells Eduard.

"What—why? What are you planning?"

She looks around the sides of the black-walled alleyway for anyone listening before telling him what's going on.

"You'll see," Becca says and turns into the street again, heading right for the forest.

Chapter 19

"I'm not leaving the city," Becca says to Eduard as they stand between two buildings.

He wears a white mask with orange and red flames that cover half of the face.

"He knows who you are," Eduard says, his patience starting to give way.

"Correction: he knows I'm not who I say I am. We need to figure out how we can get to him without blowing our cover. I was really lucky that he didn't kill me right there."

"I don't think he would have done that, Becca."

"You never know. He is the leader of both clans... Who knows what he would do to me if he felt like it?" Becca gets an idea. "Actually, that's where we can start."

"What?" Eduard asks, lost.

"The library downtown. I'll do some research him, just like we would do in school over the past." Becca starts to leave, but Eduard grabs her arm, sending shivers through her body. "What?"

"You shouldn't go alone."

"No one will know."

"Someone will," he says, his fingers still gripping her forearm. "No one knows nobody in this city, and someone's gonna ask questions."

"Hey," Becca says, more sternly than she meant to. "You're the one that came up with the Hiders and mask-jumping. Remember that next time you worry about someone recognizing a mask, okay?"

Eduard hesitates and makes a sound like he wants to say something. Instead, he sighs and drops his hand, looking at the white brick wall standing behind Becca. He nods eventually and tells her to go get a new mask.

"Why?" Becca asks, ready to leave and figure out whom the worm called Quill is.

"You're a political leader right now. You need to go back and get a different mask before heading down there."

"It's going to be obvious that I'm not who I say again, Eduard. I'm just going to go like this. And I have her ID, just in case. Meanwhile, you should send people out to expand. We can't defeat a government with the numbers we have."

"Becca—"

"Eduard. Do it. Double the number of Maskless by the end of the day if you can, and I don't care how you do it. I'm the Face, and it's time I start acting like it and taking charge."

"Yeah, but Becca—"

"Look. Just do it, okay? There are over a hundred lives at stake here, so start acting like it. I'm heading down now. If I find anything, I'll write it down somewhere. Go."

With that, Becca turns and walks away, leaving Eduard in between the two buildings, one black and one white.

The library is a small building, old and worn, yet rarely used. Everything everyone needs is either in their home or at school. The only people that ever use the library are the ones that want to embark on an adventure full of knowledge and questions, or they want to do a more in-depth analysis of something for a school project.

The outside walls are an off-white color, standing out against the two bright white buildings beside it. One of those buildings is a hair salon, and the other is a Light Clan clothing place, but Becca isn't interested in either of those.

She walks up the small vanilla steps and up to the tall, brown door. The library is a place both clans can be in, unlike the coffee shop she'd ran into a while back.

She opens the door and the bells above it chime a soft melody. The woman behind the counter at the right of the door looks up from her old computer screen and smiles.

"Hello, Belle," the woman says, and Becca nods in acknowledgement.

Computers aren't really used anymore, and aren't very common. Librarians, along with store and restaurant managers, need it for tracking money and shipments, but no one else has one. Technology sputtered out when the oil-crisis came about, and people had to cope without the electricity they had come accustomed to. Becca doesn't know if they use it in the government offices or anything, but she's guessing they do. She doesn't know much about the government, she realizes as she thinks more about Quill. The schools only teach them about the past to make sure it's not repeated, but stray away from having the children learn about the government. She didn't even know about Quill until she was thirteen, and he's still a big mystery to her, though she's been face-to-face with him a few times.

Becca walks on, straight through the tall bookcases lined neatly across the green carpet like soldiers standing at attention. Each one is filled to the top with different books of various sizes and colors. They give of a musty smell and dust floats in the air as the few masked citizens lift them from their places and leaf through them.

On the ends of each bookcase, there is a word or two printed in bold letters, telling whoever comes in where the books they are looking for are.

Becca walks between two of the bookcases and takes a left, heading for the non-fiction sign hanging from the ceiling, letting her know where its section is. She walks around the table in the center of the two separate rows of several bookcases. There are only two of them, due to the space, but it's the largest library in the country. If Becca wanted to find anything at all about the government, it'd be here.

She makes her way to the history bookshelves, seeing that they are overflowing. This country thrives on the past, making sure that it doesn't happen again. It's pretty much all they learned about while growing up, besides don't mess up or you'll become a part of the Dark Clan, and you don't want that.

Becca works her down to the 'CLANS' shelf, where she knows she can find something about the clans and the leader.

She pulls a large book with a smiling white mask on the front and the title The In's and Out's of the Light Clan, and flips through its pages, looking for a picture of a man dressed in both dark and light colors, or the word 'leader'.

Suddenly, she sees the picture she's looking for. Sort of. It's a man in the same mask as Quill, but dark gray clothes instead of the dark, dark turquoise that Quill always wears.

The Leader, who has the option to choose three officials from each clan to be his cabinet, leads both the Light Clan and the Dark Clan. This can seem like quite a contradiction to some people...

So that's how that happens, Becca thinks to herself. He chose Belle and all those people that follow him around everywhere.

She reads on, but there's nothing more about the leader, even after she leafs through the rest of the pages in the heavy book.

Placing it back where it belongs, she runs her fingers over the protruding spines of the rest of the books. She pulls out another book by the same author, R. J. Jean, and flips through it. It's called The In's and Outs of the Dark Clan, a contrast to the first book. On the front, there is a large black mask with a frown and the feeling of sadness radiating from it.

Becca opens it up and turns the pages, reading little comments about the Dark Clan out of curiosity like "...the sane become the insane once the black mask is placed on their face..." and "...the black masks are not afraid to speak their mind, no matter how horrible or grotesque the words may be...".

Suddenly, she comes across the same picture again, and the words are switched around to where the Dark Clan is mentioned first, but there is nothing else that Becca can find about the leader throughout the entire book.

She puts it back, her discouragement growing. If she can't find anything on Quill, how can the Maskless be successful?

She spots a small book. It's wedged between two larger books that sit on top of the row. Sitting the shadows, it's almost hidden from sight, as if it wants no one to read its contents.

She reaches up and dislodges it from its place.

"The In's and Out's of the Leader of the Clans," Becca breathes, as if the pages hold the secrets to the world. This is it—this is what she needs.

The cover is of a mask, the same mask that sat above Quill in the courtroom, one half white and happy, the other black and sad. The author's name sits centered at the bottom in cursive, R. J. Jean.

She opens the thin book. It looks to be only about one hundred pages, give or take a few.

On the first page, there is the same picture of the man in the dark gray clothes and the familiar mask, but on his shirt is the mask from the cover. It's odd seeing it. Becca feels like it doesn't belong there.

She turns to the front page.

\- Introduction: The Leader of the Clans

The previous leader carefully selects the Leader of the Clans, once the year of resignation comes upon him/her. The mask is handed down and the retired leader is buried without his/her mask, in honor of the work he/she has done for this country/state/city.

There are three levels of Leaders. Level one is at city level, the Leader of the Clans. Level two is state level, the Leader of the State. Lastly, the third level is country level, the Leader of the Nation, or the President.

In this book, I will be talking about the Leader of the Clans.

Becca makes her way over to a seat, praying no one comes over to talk to her. She flips to the next chapter and reads on.

\- Chapter 1: Roles of the Leader of the Clans

There are many roles of the Leader of the Clans, considering that he/she is the leader of both the Light and the Dark clan in his/her city.

Disinterested in the roles and interested in more of why Quill is the way he is, she skips forward, skimming over the chapters and the chapter titles.

\- Chapter 7: Choosing the Leader of the Clans

In the beginning of this book, I told you about each position of leaders, and how the specific role you want to know about is chosen. But how is he/she selected from hundreds, even thousands of people?

From a young age, the children are watched. There is a handful picked out from the others that have just the right characteristics for a leader, as I mentioned in chapter four. Once they are chosen, they are not told they might be the leader of both clans one day, instead of being a part of only one. They are left in the dark, and no one but the city government knows about who these children are.

On the day of their first masking, the children that had been chosen for the city government to watch over are re-evaluated by the Leader of the Clans his/herself, including his/her cabinet. Of that selection, the officials pick five children to be observed.

These children will not know they are being watched until one of them is chosen as the leader at age thirteen. Even after that, it is the retiring leader's choice, and last decision, to either keep the secret of the choosing or tell the children about the selection before the last masking ceremony, where he/she will give up his/her mask. Most of the past leaders have chosen to keep it a secret until then.

The children are ranked from one to five. Once they receive their teenage masks, the leader will start watching over the first ranked child personally, by keeping an eye out for him/her to make sure he/she stays out of trouble, and by attending the celebration of the child receiving his/her adult mask.

Becca rereads the last sentence.

Quill's mask in the sunlight of the garden flashes before her eyes and she drops the book onto the table.

Had she been next in line to be the Leader of the Clans?

Chapter 20

"Becca."

The lights in the library go out, and everything is dead silent. Becca feels her blood run cold and her body start to tingle in fear and anticipation. Apparently someone knows who she really is. But who?

"Beccaaaaa..." The voice almost gasps. The all too familiar voice, distorted by a mask.

Becca can hear the grumblings of other masked. They complain about the lights being off, and how the building is just old... but nothing about the voice saying her name, sending chills up her spine, making her breaths come out as if she'd just ran a marathon. The voice...

The lights flicker on. A man in a black mask with white pinstripes and a black cloth to cover his hair stares directly at her, his body covered, not with a cloak, but with a tight black shirt and pants that cling to his thighs. Muscles protrude from every inch of him, each one flexed and ready to strike. Suddenly, she feels as if she's standing before that puma again, standing before Banshee's gun.

She's unarmed. She can't protect herself, and even if she could, she can't fight. She can't defend herself from anything this guy throws at her.

Done-for is the only thing that pops in her head, surfacing through the sea of fear and the waves of helplessness.

This feels like the end of the road. This is it.

The man steps forward, and Becca scoots back, falling out of her chair. The ground, as it hits her, sends an uncomfortable pang through her, creating even more coldness inside of her.

"Becca," He says again, almost pleading as he advances toward her at an alarming rate. "Becca, destroy me."

"What?" She cries as she scrambles to her feet in the flickering lights. The glow contorts his mask, creating almost a different image with each flash.

"Destroy me!" He cries as Becca runs into a wall.

She looks around quickly, trying to find something to protect herself with. Why is he saying this? What's going on?

A gun has appeared on the table she was just at. Who put it there? Did this man put it there?

What is going on?

"Destroy me, Becca Reed!" He screams, standing only a foot away from her now. He reaches forward and grabs her by the shoulder.

Becca hits the table on her right as she falls down, and she twists around as she lands on the ground, feeling pain in her side where the table had hit. The man in the mask reaches down to the back edge of the table and starts to lift.

She tries to scramble to her feet once again before the surface comes crashing down, but it catches her left calf and she cries out in pain. The table is definitely heavier than it looks.

Becca tries to slide her leg out from under it, but the man steps onto the overturned table. She cries out again, unable to twist around to help pull her leg out with her arms.

She feels one of his feet step onto the back of her knee, pulling the skin this way and that. She feels hot tears jump into her eyes as the man's weight presses down on it. He leans forward and she can feel his mask as he creeps over her shoulder to whisper in her ear.

"Destroy me."

Becca rears her head back, hitting the mask and hearing it crack. The man stumbles back, stepping off of her leg.

She pulls it to her and stands up, limping as she walks to the gun. Her hands close around it and she turns around to point it in the man's direction.

Short, blonde hair pokes out through the crack that made its way from the top of the mask to the eyehole. Short, blonde, familiar hair.

The man's fingers move sporadically as he takes a step forward.

"Don't move or I'll shoot!" Becca screams, knowing she can't really do it.

Can she?

"You won't shoot," the man seems to beg. The voice is so familiar... "Destroy me, Becca Reed."

He takes another step towards her.

"I'm warning you!"

"Destroy me," He says, quieter. His voice seems like it's full of pain. "I deserve it."

"Why?" Becca asks, taking a step back herself as he takes two more forward.

"Do it!" He screams as he starts to run forward. "Do it, Becca! Destroy me!"

Scared, Becca pulls the trigger.

The man's chest explodes and he falls to the ground.

She runs over to him.

What has she done?

The breaths come too fast from the man that lies beside where she kneels. He's dying. Only moments to live.

"I betrayed..." he breathes.

The breaths disappear.

His heart has stopped.

Becca's eyes fill with tears as her stomach twists in tiny knots. She reaches down and those small knots make even bigger ones. She did this.

But the biggest one comes as she lifts the mask from the man's face.

It's not a man at all.

It's a boy.

Twitch.
Chapter 21

Becca feels hot tears wedging in between the inside of her mask and the skin on her cheeks. Twitch's face stares up at her, his eyes shut and his hair askew. What had she done?

"I'm sorry..." She whispers through a sob. "I'm sorry..."

The color of white catches her eye. It sticks out from underneath his collar, caught between the fabric and the skin on his neck. Becca slowly reaches for it with a shaky hand, and hears the light scraping of the ridges on her fingertips as she touches it. It slides out easily, and as she brings it to her face, she catches sight of the black letters staring back at her.

You were alone. Have you found comfort yet?

The piece of paper floats back down to Twitch's still body as Becca lets go of it. What's happening? What's going on?

Becca's mind feels fried as she stands up shakily and presses the button on her earpiece.

"Eduard..." She chokes out, afraid of what will happen next. Another warm tear gets stuck between her face and her mask. "Eduard, I just shot Twitch..."

Dead silence is on the other line. Becca tries to hold in her sobs as she looks down at the boy. Why had he wanted her to kill him? To destroy him? What was he trying to say with his last breath? Who? Betrayed who?

"I'll find you," Eduard finally says, his voice strained. "Library, right? Stay there. I'm coming."

Becca nods as if he can see her and takes one last look at Twitch, whose body lies shockingly still. She waits for a breath, for a movement, just like she had when Victoria... But time, it's her doing. She's the one that pulled the trigger, and Twitch had been on the wrong side of the gun. But if she hadn't have pulled the trigger...

Becca tears herself away from him and glances at the gun on the floor, lying perfectly still, and looking wickedly innocent. It's not the gun that killed him. It's the one that held it in her hands. Such a deadly device, such a powerful item... Such great responsibility. Responsibility that Becca has learned she doesn't posses.

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and takes a step forward, away from her friend behind her. She reaches down and grabs the thin book off the floor, hoping she can walk out without anyone noticing. Everyone had left when the lights had gone out. She should be alone.

Would be, if it weren't for Twitch lying dead in the back of the library.

She makes her way to the front door, now unguarded by a librarian and walks out. Little does she know about the coldness and hardness growing inside of her, growing inside of her heart. Little does she know about the truth eating away at her sanity.

Becca tries not to think about Twitch. About Victoria. Her fault. They're both dead because of her.

Banshee. She has to find Banshee. He knows what she wants to know. He has knowledge beyond her comprehension, and she wants to understand. He's the only one she can think of that will give her information, should he agree to. Should he decide not to kill her too.

But where would he be?

The city air hits her as the door swings open, the strange smell of food in the air. There's going to be a meeting. People only bake for the community when a meeting is about to happen, helping create a sort-of peaceful environment between the white masks and the black masks.

There's a stage in the center of the city, right outside of city hall, and it pops into Becca's view as she makes her way towards it. Many people recognize her as Belle, and she nods in acknowledgement, her brain somewhere else.

"Good evening, everyone," Quill says into the microphone on the podium. Five other masks stand behind him, looking out over the crowd while six security guards circle the stage to make sure no one tries anything. "And welcome to this town meeting. We have come up with some new rules we want to incorporate into the system..."

Becca doesn't hear the rest as her eyes fall upon the plain mask over to the left of the stage. It stares at her, as if waiting for her to see it, to notice it.

Banshee.

He turns and starts to walk between two buildings, both of them black, as his clothing drag slightly behind him. Before disappearing behind the back corners of the narrow alleyway, he turns to look back at Becca one more time.

Becca walks away from the crowd to follow him, taking the opportunity laid before her. She wants answers, she wants something to fill the emptiness she feels in her heart, she wants someone to tell her what's going on. She wants to know why Banshee is following her, is doing all of these things to her.

The air seems cooler as she passes the front walls of the black buildings. She listens for footsteps as she walks briskly down the passageway. She's going to find him, her mind is made up.

She turns this way and that, following the echoes of Banshee's sounds and shuffles of his feet. The alleyways seem to stretch on and on as she strains her ears to hear him, and then, suddenly, his sounds almost cease to exist.

Becca moves forward, hoping he's still up ahead.

The alleyways open up into a large, dark square in the middle of four black buildings. There's a single light flickering on one of the black walls, and you can see the stars that rest above on a blanket of darkening sky.

Becca sees Banshee standing before her, standing like he's a completely normal person, but Becca knows better. She knows he's not mentally stable, and that makes her want to second-guess what she's trying to do. What if he really does kill her this time?

"What a turn of events," Banshee chuckles. "You following me. You must be desperate. Are you desperate, Becca Reed? Are you?"

"I want answers," She says, trying to make herself seem less terrified than she is. Her heart is hammering in her chest and her throat is clogged with a knot.

"To what?" Banshee asks, not moving from where he stands.

"Everything."

"Specifics, Becca, specifics."

Becca takes a shaky breath. Should she really be doing this?

"Why did you kill Victoria?" Her voice wavers, but she recovers. "Why have all of these things happened? How did all of these things happen? What's going on?"

Banshee chuckles and reaches up to his mask. He unties the knot in the back and slides off the plain blackness covering his face. He looks at Becca with an eeriness that is unsettling to her.

"You've been reading, yes?" He says, the cut in his cheek moving as his jaw moves. It sends chills up Becca's spine—the bad kind of chills. Not like the ones she gets when she touches Eduard, but the kind that makes red flags pop up inside of her, telling her that things are not right.

She fights not to turn the other way and flee from the scene, but she wants to know, has to know.

"Yes."

"What books, Becca?"

"Books about the black masks and the white masks."

"And?" Banshee presses, taking a step towards her. "And?"

"And about the leader."

A sly smile spreads over Banshee's face and he nods. "Read it all. Don't stop. Read it all."

"But why?"

"Because," Banshee says, putting his mask back on to cover his smile as Becca looks down at the book she holds in her hands. "All of your answers are in there. You'll see. You'll understand. And then you'll find your comfort."

Becca's eyes snap up to look at him, but he's already disappeared.

Banshee.

The gun. Twitch. The notes...

Banshee. He's the one that did it. He's behind it.

So Becca would like to think.

Chapter 22

Becca steps back out into the middle of the city, the crowd applauding as the meeting ends. Her nose is so far into the book and her brain is so focused on figuring out what's going on mixed with how to bring down Quill that she can't see where she's going and she runs into two men blocking her path.

"Excuse me," she says, hardly glancing up as she tries to walk around.

The men move in her way again and she looks up once more.

"Go get in line," the man on the left barks, pointing to the stage. "We need a picture of you and your mask."

"What?" Becca asks. "Why?"

"So we can be sure that everyone is who they say they are. Go. Now."

Becca jumps and starts to walk towards the three long lines trailing from the stage.

"Eduard," she says quietly as she presses the button on her earpiece. "Eduard, we have a problem."

"I know." Becca hears his voice as he almost whispers the words. "I'll meet you in the back of the middle line."

Becca nods and heads to the back of the center line. She sees Eduard in his stolen mask as he strides up to her and stands facing her back stiffly.

"They're taking pictures of our faces next to our masks," Eduard says to Becca, trying to look like he's entering into a casual conversation.

"The—we were talking about it in our meeting earlier. I was against it, but the rest ruled for it, I'm guessing, considering it's happening."

Becca feels herself start to panic. What if they know her face? What if they know Belle's face? And Becca doesn't even know Belle's last name if they should ask for it.

"A distraction," Becca says quietly over the talking of the crowds. "We need a distraction, Eduard. Quick. These lines are moving really, really fast."

He nods in agreement and looks around. Eduard takes one last glance at her and sighs behind his mask. "Follow my lead."

"Wha—"

"No, ma'am, that is my spot!" Eduard shouts angrily at her. "I was here first!"

Becca catches on to what he's trying to do, and she smiles beneath the mask she wears.

"You don't know what you're talking about sir!" Becca shouts, trying her best to sound like she's really upset.

"Oh, I don't know what I'm talking about? You took my spot! How could someone be so rude?"

"Rude? You're calling me rude? Learn some courtesy and humility and look in the mirror at yourself!"

"We aren't allowed to—"

"Excuse me, is there a problem?" One of the men that had forced Becca to walk into a line says, folding his arms over his chest.

"Yes sir," Eduard huffs. "This woman took my spot in line."

"What are you, children?" The second bouncer says.

"Now look who's being rude," Becca sneers.

The man looks at Becca. "Excuse me, miss?"

"You heard me, Jerkface."

The man takes Becca roughly by the arm and drags her away from the crowd, while the other one takes Eduard. "Come back when you're ready to be respectful."

He shoves Becca forward and she stumbles over her feet. The other does the same with Eduard, and she laughs cruelly. The two men walk away and Eduard and Becca start walking toward the woods.

Becca looks back once before turning a corner, and sees Quill pulling out a small piece of paper from his breast pocket.

A paper about the size of the ones Becca has found in the box and beneath Twitch's collar.

Chapter 23

Eduard and Becca make their way to the forest, back where everyone else is to warn them, but when they arrive, no one is there. Nothing is there.

"This is the right spot, right, Eduard?" Becca asks, starting to feel panic grow inside of her.

"Yeah. Where is everybody?" He breathes, already panicking.

Gunshots echo from deeper in the woods.

The two of them stand between the trees, unable to see anything in the growing darkness. No one hunts with guns anymore. No one is allowed to have guns besides officers.

And officers' guns don't come out unless they're after somebody.

"Run," Becca and Eduard murmur as they take off running. It's getting hard to see the trees, and it's even harder to watch where their feet are going. Eduard keeps stumbling over tree roots and Becca keeps losing her footing.

There are voices, and then another bang.

Dogs barking.

They have dogs.

And they're coming for Becca and Eduard, looking for the rebellious group that threatens the society's existence.

The sounds of their feet falling onto the fallen leaves seem to get louder as the duo run away.

Another gunshot.

Bark on a tree in front of Becca explodes, and she holds in a shriek. Her legs pedal faster with her breath and her heartbeat, but oxygen isn't reaching her brain, and her eyesight is failing her. She reaches up with clumsy fingers and unties the long ribbon holding the stolen mask in place.

It falls to the ground with a light thud and Becca runs on, Eduard following behind her.

"What if we climbed a tree?" Eduard heaves, taking off his mask too.

"Dogs would smell us," Becca breathes, pumping her arms to help her keep running.

"The water!" Eduard shouts and makes a hard left, making Becca slide on the forest floor and almost fall as she turns to follow. "They can't smell us in the water!"

The sounds of the dogs seem to get closer as they reach a clearing. In the center of all of the trees is a big lake, its surface dark and like ink under the night sky.

Eduard jumps in without a second thought, but Becca worries about the sanitation for a moment before following him in. She drops the book she holds into the grass to the side of the lake, where it can't be seen, so she hopes.

The water is freezing as she reaches a spot she can't touch the bottom at. She starts to shiver and Eduard wraps his arms around her to keep both of them warm. Becca presses up against him, heat radiating from his body as he watches for the men and the dogs.

They break the clearing.

"Hold your breath," he whispers to Becca as they duck under water.

She holds her breath as long as she can. She doesn't know how long they stay under, but her lungs feel like they're about to burst. Warmth still makes its way to her from Eduard, but it's almost not enough as the water's cold fingers twist around her and swirl through her hair and over her scalp. Her heartbeat seems louder in the water as she waits for Eduard to break the surface again, the water pressure as they sit on the bottom pressing into her ears. One of Eduard's arms is outstretched and holding onto a plant to keep them grounded.

Suddenly, they start rising slowly. Her head breaks the surface and she tries not to make too much noise gasping for air and coughing. Her arms are frozen around the boy, too scared to let go, too cold to move.

"They're gone," Eduard whispers as he moves the sopping wet hair from Becca's face. She looks up at him in the disappearing sunlight.

A movement in the water behind them.

They turn around slowly to see a figure swimming up to them.

Becca starts to back away, letting go of Eduard, and he does the same. The figure continues to press forward.

Becca trips and splashes into the water once again.

The dogs bark.

"Shhh," she hears from the figure. "Guys, it's me. It's Mikey."

"Shoot, Mikey!" Eduard whispers, punching the other boy in the shoulder with tremendous force. "Thanks for scaring us."

"They're coming back," Becca says as the dogs bark at the tops of their lungs. "They're coming back."

Mikey swears under his breath. "Come on. We need to get out of here."

"How?" Becca asks, crowding in close to the two boys. "They'll smell us. And then we'll be puppy chow."

"We just have to run as fast as we can."

"Where's Nixon?" Eduard asks.

Mikey takes a deep breath and gulps. "He was shot."

Pain flashes across Eduard's face and he looks back at Mikey. "Alright. Let's go."

They're out of the water and on the solid ground. Becca grabs her book and Mikey hands her a bag. Her bag.

"I saved it, just in case you were still alive."

"Thanks," Becca says as Mikey takes off his mask too and puts it inside his backpack.

Glad her backpack is waterproof, she throws the book inside the bag and slips her arms through the holes as they start to run, all of them with their bags.

They make their way back to the city, not having really anywhere else to go. The street lamps all flicker, an eeriness falling between the various sized buildings. The sounds of the dogs aren't as close as they were, but Becca knows that they're gaining on them.

They stumble into an alleyway and find themselves before a Dark Clan housing unit.

"Come on," Eduard says, pulling the strings tighter on his backpack. He begins to climb the wall, using the windows and gutter to lift him up, as well as the cracks in the wall.

"I can't climb this," Becca whispers to Mikey, whose face twists with concern.

"Here, come on. I'll be right behind you."

Becca takes a deep breath and swallows her fear.

Now would be a good time to be that other me, she thinks.

She places one foot on the lowest windowsill and grips the top of it as she heaves herself up with her tired leg muscles. Mikey helps her with every step, making sure she won't fall.

The dogs aren't far behind now.

Becca's hand slips.

She quickly replaces it, her stomach in her throat. She needs to make it up all the way. She can't fall, can't die now... No matter how much she deserves it.

More barking dogs.

Lights come on in different buildings from the disturbance.

It's after curfew.

Eduard finally stops climbing and crawls through an open window. He pops his head and shoulders back out and reaches down to help Becca up into the room.

Once Mikey is in, Eduard closes the glass window and turns back into the room.

Becca looks out to see the dogs approaching the building and jump up on the wall. She pulls her head back so they can't see her when they look up.

"We need a plan," she says suddenly, taking charge.

"We don't have masks on. They'll know who we are the moment they come in here," Mikey says.

Becca gets an idea, the woman popping in her mind. "Shower. We can act like we're taking a shower."

"Together?" Eduard snorts. "I don't think so."

"No," Becca says, getting excited she's come up with an idea. "One of us could be, per-say, 'getting in the shower' when they walk in."

Eduard thinks about this for a moment and then nods. "Alright. Mikey, go get a towel."

"What—why me?"

"Because, like I said, you can talk yourself out of any situation. Here's your chance. Becca and I will be in the bathroom. Come in after they leave so we can get out."

Mikey nods, a humorous smile Becca doesn't understand slipping across his face. It only widens after Eduard smacks him in the shoulder and shakes his head at him.

"Stop it. Go," Eduard says sternly, and Mikey laughs as he makes his way to the bathroom to get a towel.

Becca and Eduard follow and crack the door as Mikey goes back into the bedroom to undress and cover himself with the green towel he'd grabbed, as if he was about to be getting in the shower.

Becca turns on the water and pulls the knob on top of the faucet to turn the showerhead on.

The door bangs open, the sound of dogs no longer there.

"Um, can I help you?" Becca hears Mikey say rudely.

"Were there any intruders that came in here, sir?" One of the officers says to him.

"Nope. Now would you please leave? I'm about to take a shower and I feel my towel falling."

Becca hears one of the officers clear his throat in embarrassment. "Sir, might I ask if you're about to get in the shower, why is your hair already wet?"

Mikey groans. "You really have to know every—ugh! Fine, if you must know, I tried to take a shower but the water was too fricking cold, so I decided to get out and wait for it to warm up."

"Would you mind if we checked out your bathroom, sir?"

"Um, yes. Yes, I would mind. My underwear is in there. I find other people looking at my underwear kind of embarrassing, don't you?"

"We won't look at them," Becca hears them say as their footsteps make their way to the door.

Eduard points to the partially open shower curtain behind them and steps in quietly. Becca follows, the water warm against her skin. She feels all the muck and grime falling off her, and she tries to be as still as possible so the water doesn't make much of a difference in sound as it hits the tub.

The door opens just as she ducks completely behind the curtain.

The officer's footsteps walk slowly toward the tub and Becca feels her breathing shallow out.

"There. You've seen my bathroom, and my underwear, might I add. Can you leave now?" Becca hears Mikey whine and step into the bathroom as well. "It would be greatly appreciated if you would leave me alone."

"Sir, I could have you arrested for talking to an officer like that," the man in the bathroom says, taking a few steps from the bathtub.

"And I could do anything I wanted to you, seeing that I'm a black mask and you're a white."

"Where is your mask, sir?" The man asks.

Oh no, Becca thinks, looking at Eduard.

She hears Mikey groan again, this time more hysterical. "It's right here—" She hears some rummaging and the sound of a zipper. His backpack. "I put it in here because I don't want the paint to run when the humidity escapes from the shower water. Any more flipping questions, officer?"

Good job, Mikey, Becca smiles.

"No, sir."

"Awesome. Now get out."

The door shuts and Mikey comes back through the bathroom door and pulls the curtain back. His body is ripped, muscles sticking out from every inch of his tan skin. Becca can't help but feel both intimidated and surprised. Her heart beats faster the longer she looks at him, and she has to look away. She shakes her head and chuckles quietly to herself.

"Okay, lovebirds. Let's go."

Becca catches Eduard making a face at Mikey before he shuts off the water.

Chapter 24

There's a knock on the door, making everyone in the room jump and feel uneasy. Mikey gives Eduard and Becca a strange look as they creep back in the direction of the bathroom.

"I told you, there's no one else here," he swings the door open, but no one stands there. He leans down and picks something up off the floor, closing the door slowly behind him as he turns around to face Becca and Eduard.

He holds a box. It looks exactly like the one Becca had found in her room.

Her breath catches in her throat as Mikey walks up to her, picking a white piece of paper up off of the top of it.

"It's for you," Mikey says, handing her the box and showing her her name on the paper in the all-too-familiar writing.

Becca Reed

Becca takes the box in her hands as they start to shake. The weight settles on her palms as Mikey lets go of it. She looks at the lid, two initials staring back at her. But they aren't like the other box. They're her initials.

B. R.

She drops the box in shock and it bounces once before landing upside-down on the ground. The boys stare at her, confused, and she feels her breathing betray her and tear at her throat, clawing away from her lungs. Dark spot appear around her vision and she starts to back up, tripping over the bed and landing on it, bouncing slightly like the box had on the floor.

Becca starts to mumble the word 'no' over and over, pressing her back to the wall that's against the bed. She starts to break down, tears beginning to fall from her eyes and onto her clothes and the comforter below.

She can't escape it, why can't she run from all of this? Why her? Why her?

She barely feels the hands around her, trying to comfort her. Her brain is whirring with thoughts and panic. What's inside the box? Another gun? Or something else?

Becca's eyes would have burned holes into the box if she had lazar vision. They won't pull away, no matter how hard she tries to make them. The glossy black outer shell of the box stares back at her, as if it's waiting for her to turn it over and look inside. But she doesn't want to look inside... She's scared of the contents that the box hides.

The boys decide to go to sleep. They take the floor, letting Becca curl up under the covers on the bed. Normally, she would have rejected, but this isn't normal.

Normal people don't go around giving guns in boxes to people. Normal people don't make notes that scare the living daylights out of someone else.

No, the situation she's in definitely isn't normal.

The thoughts keep her awake and staring at the box. The boys didn't move it from its spot. Eduard had tried, but all he got was a string of shouts from Becca not to touch it or go near it.

What if she just doesn't open it? If she lets everything go back to normal.

Nothing's normal now, she thinks to herself. Everything has changed. There's no going back. No going back...

She pulls her knees up to her chest and rocks back and forth in the bed.

This has brought her to the brink of insanity.

. . .

Snow dances all around her. She stands at the top of a steep drop, the whiteness covering everything around her. Trees below her stretch on and on, as far as she can see, the frozen water clinging to their leaves.

The wind is cold against her cheeks and she shivers. She isn't wearing a jacket. Why isn't she wearing a jacket? It's snowing.

There's a crunch behind her.

She turns around to see Quill, his clothes almost comically dark against the white backdrop. Below his feet, the snow has turned black.

Another crunch.

To Quill's left stands Banshee, his plain mask on tight. Below his feet, the snow has turned black too.

There's another crunch, and another, and another.

To Banshee's left is Victoria, blood seeping from her chest and the snow below her black where her feet are. She wears a mask, split down the center with the colors of black and white.

To Quill's right stands Twitch, the snow turning black and his mask the same as Victoria's, only cracked a little on the forehead. There's a hole in his shirt where the bullet had penetrated, silver glinting from the center of it.

And then, standing directly on Twitch's right and Becca's left, is Eduard, in a black and white mask too, only his is at an obscure angle. The snow beneath him doesn't change.

"Hello, Becca," They all say at the same time, making Becca feel uneasy.

"One," She hears Quill say.

Victoria lifts up her hand and then flings it down, a knife flying from it and sticking into the ground before Becca, making her jump and take a step backwards.

"You let her die."

"No, I—"

"Two," Quill cuts Becca off.

Twitch tosses something down onto the ground, a little further than the knife had gone. The gun goes off with a bang, and Becca feels the bullet whirr by her. She takes another step backwards.

"You killed him."

"I didn't mean—"

"Banshee! Eduard!" Quill shouts.

The five start making their way toward her, another masked person walking up behind Quill. Nixon.

He walks around the leader, the snow turning black with each step, and then he stands in the middle of the tight horseshoe the other five have made around Becca, the black snow slowly starting to spread its way toward her. She backs up a bit more, feeling the wind pick up speed.

"Three." Quill says.

Suddenly, they disappear, exploding into thousands of tiny snowflakes. They drift away in the wind. All of them except Eduard.

He stands before her now, staring her down. The black snow is around him, but where he stands, there is a circle of white, as if the black had been cut by a knife, leaving only the color of white behind.

"Calm down," He says in a soothing tone. "It's okay."

"What?" Becca asks.

"You're not alone. I'll be your comfort."

Becca feels a smile spread across her face and she takes a step forward, hearing a sickening crunch beneath her shoe.

She looks down to see the black snow starting to grow over her foot.

"Eduard?" She asks, fear bubbling inside of her.

"Becca—"

There's a gunshot.

She looks up to see Eduard fall to the ground, the snow below him turning red. Quill stands on the other side of him, the gun he holds smoking.

"Alone," Quill says, and his mask smirks.

She feels the bullet rip through her shoulder and the black snow makes a sick sucking noise as her foot is ripped from its greedy fingers. The wind surrounds her as the cliffs' edge slips out from under her. The face of the rock moves by in a blur as she spins around slowly, the ground coming up quicker than she could ever imagine. A scream escapes her throat.

"Becca wake up!"

Becca's eyes fly open, Eduard above her as she sits up in bed. His hands are around her shoulders and his bright blue eyes search hers as she feels her own are open wide. She remembers she isn't wearing a mask, and she doesn't care.

She tries to press against Eduard, tries to calm down. He holds her close and runs his hand over her hair to try and soothe her. Mikey goes downstairs to get her some water.

"Are you alright?" Eduard whispers with his chin on the top of her head. "You were screaming pretty badly."

Becca shrugs. "I have bad dreams sometimes..."

They sit there for a while, letting the silence take up the space around them as they wait for Mikey's return. Becca's mind drifts to Banshee, but she tries to tear it away, to think of something else.

So she chooses Eduard to think about.

"What did you write on that paper?" Becca asks, trying to pull the focus away from her.

Eduard sighs before speaking. "It's... uh, it's stupid. I was only thirteen and I suck at writing, but, uh... I wrote 'I must never take the mask off—but what if I did? No matter the scoff—but what if I'd die? No matter the torment, no matter the pain—not even if I wanted to, not even if it was my choice. Taking off the mask will admit that I'm vain—keeping it on would mean I'm ashamed.' I told you, it's stupid... I just had this thought or idea or whatever, and I needed to get it out somehow. Writing it was the only way I knew how to."

"It's not that bad," Becca says quietly.

Eduard chuckles. "It's terrible. But thanks."

Becca smiles a little bit, feeling better than just a few moments ago.

"But that's not all," he says, and Becca can feel the embarrassment as he shifts his weight and clears his throat.

Becca looks at him as he lets go and she sits up straight.

"No one will know who I really am, I wrote. No matter how good I can be, no matter how flawless, how perfect... I'll be alone. We'll all be alone. There will be no one to bring me comfort. To bring any of us comfort."

Chapter 25

Becca pulls back, her brain whirring with the familiar words. She scoots away from him as he looks at her with confusion.

"What's wrong?" He asks, and looks behind him.

"Nothing!" She says a little too loud. "Nothing..."

Eduard gives her another look of confusion and shakes his head slightly. "Are you sure?"

Becca nods as her back touches the wall at the head of the bed. What if she's wrong about Banshee? What if it's not Banshee writing the notes, but it's Eduard? Is that possible? Could she be right about that?

"Are you gonna go back to sleep?" He asks.

She hesitates before nodding, her body stiff as he watches her, his face full of concern. She feels her trust for him deplete. Suddenly, she wants him gone. She doesn't want him around her.

But what if she is wrong?

But what if I'm right? She asks herself, staring at Eduard wide-eyed.

"Well, um, okay then... I'll be right here if you need me. Just wake me up if something happens or if you have a bad dream or something, okay?" Eduard says as he stands up to walk back over to his little pallet on the floor.

Becca nods again and gulps, her saliva making her dry throat tingle.

She doesn't know if telling him everything is a good thing or a bad thing anymore.

Eduard walks over to his sheets and pulls the covers up over his body. Becca sits still as time seems to drag on. She can't go back to sleep. She couldn't if she tried.

Her brain wanders to different things, different situations to see if Eduard is the bad guy or not. That train of thought brings her to the book somehow, making her wonder what's hidden inside the pages, hidden inside the box.

She moves, finally, her body aching from staying in that position for so long, and grabs her backpack, her eyes flitting to the box on the floor. She pulls the bag up onto the bed and tucks her legs beneath the covers, her feet starting to get cold.

The zipper seems so loud in the perfectly silent room and she tries to slow it down to make it a bit quieter. She gives up on that notion and decides to rip it open in one go, praying she doesn't wake up the boys.

She slips her hand inside and takes hold of the book, stuck behind the sheets that had been hastily crammed into the bag. It slides out with a sound like the wind or brushing past someone's ears, a low, swishing sound.

The mask on the cover looks back at her in the dark and she runs her hand over it. Hopefully it'll hold what she's looking for.

She opens up the book.

\- Chapter 6: What is the Leader of the Clans?

The Leader of the Clans runs the city he/she is placed in. He/she decides how the city is run, due to this fact. Some have a cabinet, where he/she appoints other people to help thing run smoothly in their city, and so they do not fall to the pressures of running a city. Others run the city alone.

The Leader of the Clans responsibilities (Chapter 2) and roles (Chapter 1) differ tremendously from the Leader of the State and the Leader of the Nation. Those positions are listed in my other books, The In's and Out's of the Leader of the State, and The In's and Outs of the Leader of the Nation.

Becca turns back to the first chapter, scolding herself momentarily for not reading the book in order. Things would probably make more sense, should she have done that in the first place.

She continues where she had left off in the library.

I will talk briefly about each one.

Number one: he/she must choose carefully and wisely for the next Leader of the Clans. I will explain this further in chapter seven, but for now, I will tell you what the Leader of the Clans must look for in the child he/she is finally chooses.

This child must teeter between his/her good and bad side. His/her good behavior must be equal to his/her bad behavior, due to the fact that he/she must be in control of both clans and understand what goes on in each of his/her peoples' lives and minds. Without this trait, there could be corruption within the government, as well as the possibility of falling to anarchy.

Another trait would include a leadership quality. The child must take charge, but in a subtle way, meaning they take charge almost instinctively, rather than purposefully. Without this trait, the Leader, in a position of power, could again corrupt the government and try to, eventually, take over the nation and succeed. Of course, those are the extremes.

Does Becca have these traits? She thinks about her actions to see if she does, but humbleness strikes her a bit, not letting her see completely through herself. Maybe she's just overthinking the whole chosen thing. She can't be that special.

Can she?

She skims over the rest of the book, learning more and more about Quill's position, when she finally reads the last page before the author's note at the end.

Her brain swells with knowledge, almost giving her a headache. There are so many things the Leader of the Clan has to do, that she wonders how he has any time to breathe.

She turns the page.

\- Author's Note

So, you made it. You read (or skimmed) all of the way through this book. Amazing what the Leader of the Clan does, isn't it? It's far more interesting than the Leader of the State or the Leader of the Nations, which is probably a reason why most Leaders of the Clans are nicer than the other two positions.

I'm sure you had a reason to pick this up, and a reason to actually search for it, because there are only ten printed copies, one of them owned by me.

The reason for the sheer lack of books is because, depending on where you live, you could get into some trouble for just holding this book. If you are holding this now, and got it from a library or a shop, it's either it had been hidden well within the other books, or it is freely available to you. However, just because it had been in the place you have it in or got it from, doesn't mean that it's safe. The only states the book is knowingly accepted by the Leaders are Kentucky, Texas, Wyoming, and Oklahoma. So if you aren't in one of these states, hide this book well and don't let anyone see you with it.

The Leaders of the Clans don't like their business out there, just like the rest of the Leaders. They like to be secretive, which is why children do not learn about them until they need to, if they ever do learn about them. I learned about all of this through my own experience, which is another story for another time.

One thing is for sure though: they like to hide behind their masks, no pun intended.

And whatever you needed this book for, I hope I was able to answer some of your questions or doubts. Now, please go hide this book wherever you can, as soon as you can. The range of punishments is wide for knowing so much about the government.

That's why the Leaders aren't the only ones that hide behind a mask.

Or a name.

Becca finishes reading the last sentence and shuts the book. How could reading something like this be punishable? How could someone get in trouble for reading it?

And hiding behind a name? How could someone hide behind a name?

Just like you did, when you took Belle's mask, Becca thinks to herself, answering her own question. You pretend.

She puts the book back into the backpack, her eyes drooping, wanting sleep. The sun is just starting to break over the horizon, and Becca tells herself she needs to get as much sleep as she can before she faces tomorrow—today. Before she faces today.

Becca's eyes drift to the box on the floor, unmoved and still on its lid.

She pulls herself forward on the bed and reaches down to pick it up before her brain makes her chicken out. The dark wood is cool against her hand as she sits up and moves the covers that have crumpled uncomfortably beneath her.

This time there is no lock on the shiny gold piece placed on the front.

She lifts up the lid of the box, her heart pounding and racing in anticipation.

Becca's breath catches in her throat and her chest starts to hurt as she stares down, startled, at the melted, sparkly, bloody surface of her old mask.

Chapter 26

Becca feels her breathing intensify and her brain start rushing to conclusions.

She needs to find Banshee.

Now.

She needs to stop this madness he's creating.

Her feet touch the wooden floor of the Black Clan's living quarters. The boards squeak a little as she shifts her weight to stand, but neither of the boys move or wake up.

She holds her mask in one hand, almost disgusted and revolted by it.

And for some strange reason, she feels as if she needs it.

Becca slips on her black shoes carefully, still trying not to wake them.

The floor decides to be loud as she tries to walk silently across it, every screech sending chills of fear exploding through her body like a million tiny bombs. Even if they do wake up, this is her decision, and no one is going to take that from her. They can't stop her. She has to face Banshee. She has to face the man that has followed her around since that day in the alleyway, and she has to find out what's going on.

The doorknob is cold as she turns it, and it makes a soft clicking noise as she pulls the door open and steps through the doorway. As she steps out into the quiet, she sees something move out of the corner of her eye and she lets go of the doorknob, snapping her neck around to see what was there.

Nothing.

She makes her way to the stairs. The metal is cooler than the doorknob, but she doesn't know if it's something that's just in her head, something trying to distract her from what she feels she needs to do this early in the morning.

The stairs squeak as she makes her way to the bottom floor. A thought crosses her mind as she reaches it. She doesn't even know where Banshee would be.

Unless he's still following her.

She turns around to look for him, and she sees black fabric disappear behind a corner. A little wave of excitement runs through her. It's not too hard to find him after all.

Becca runs to the next hallway that branches off behind the stairs, and looks down the long row of greenish-blue doors.

The fabric disappears behind the next corner.

Her legs carry her down to the end of the hallway of doors and she sees one of them close somewhere near the center of it. She keeps her eyes locked on the turquoiseish wooden rectangle as she sprints down to it. She tries the handle. It's unlocked.

What if it's not Banshee? She finds herself asking. What if it's someone else? What if I'm breaking in to someone else's house?

She lets go of the knob quickly at that thought.

"Becca," she hears from behind the door. "Come in."

Suddenly, she doesn't want to do this anymore.

She can feel her heart threatening to rip out of her chest as she turns the knob and slowly opens the door, still debating on if she should carry through with this or not.

It swings all the way open, hitting the wall behind it with a hollow thud. The room is empty and the walls are black with splattered white paint everywhere. It reminds her of Twitch...

A man cloaked in black stands in the center of the room on the wooden floor. His plain black mask sends cold chills all through her body.

"What a turn of events," Banshee chuckles, standing completely still with his arms down and slightly away from his body. "You, searching for me, instead of me searching for you. Again." A low chuckle slips from the small hole in his mask where the masks' lips would part, if it were a real face.

Becca opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. She stands in the doorway, speechless and blank. What exactly was she coming to say? To ask?

She moves the mask in her hands, feeling it split a little bit more down the center from where she had pushed down on it.

"Come in."

She can almost feel the smirk playing behind Banshee's mask.

She walks forward, her heart beating and memories running through her head on loop. The memories of Banshee. When she threw her first mask on the ground. When she chose the Light Clan. Every incident after that. The conversations.

She hears the door click shut behind her as she pushes it, never taking her eyes off of the man she's been afraid of all of her life, the man she's been running from since the first day she got her mask.

"So you read my book, didn't you, Becca?"

Chapter 27

"Your books?" Becca chokes.

Banshee nods and stares at Becca, making her feel both terrified and uncomfortable. "The Leaders aren't the only ones that hide behind a mask. Or a name."

"What do you mean?" Becca asks quietly, her head spinning.

"Eleven years ago, I was one of Quill's little band of brainwashed followers, willing to give up whatever is asked for no matter the price to keep the society running how it is. Quill kicked me out after... an incident with one of the other people in the posse... But I don't need to get into that yet," he chuckles creepily. "Let's just say I had a gun, and using that gun brought comfort to me."

He takes off the mask and Becca feels her chest tighten.

"So," she says, her voice shaking like a leaf in the cold wind of November. "It was you who gave me those boxes and the notes."

And not Eduard, She thinks to herself.

"No," Banshee smiles, the tear in his flesh moving slightly as he talks. "But the intention was there."

"What do you mean?" Becca swallows her fear and plants her feet on the hard floor. She's not running away, not this time, no matter what it is he's about to tell her. "What do you mean, Banshee?"

It can't be Eduard.

"It's a strange thing to hear you call me that. To hear anyone call me that, really. Let me officially introduce myself, since I never did. Well, I did. Once. But you were too little to remember me."

Another smile large enough to contort his face in the dimness of the rooms lighting spreads across his face as Becca becomes more and more confused. She knows him?

"I'm sure you have so many questions, Becca Reed."

"And if I didn't think you knew the answers, I wouldn't be standing here right now."

"I'm flattered," he chuckles, and in his eyes flash something—excitement maybe? "Do you want to sit down?"

Banshee sidesteps to reveal a black metal chair. He pats the seat and nods, the smile still glued on his face. Becca shakes her head and Banshee's face twists into something that looks like hurt.

"You won't sit?" He asks, his voice fragile and soft.

Becca takes a step closer to him, her arms stiff and her hands clenched into fists.

Then she stops, changing her mind, and his face switches to anger.

"You will sit. You will sit, Becca Reed!"

Banshee leaps forward and grabs Becca roughly by the arm.

"You will sit!"

"No!" Becca cries out, struggling against him. He pulls her to the chair as she tugs and thrashes to break free. He throws her onto the seat, the front legs lifting up from the ground and smashing back down onto the wooden ground. Becca sits in the cold metal chair, trembling and feeling the fire grow inside of her as Banshee wipes a bead of sweat away from above his eyebrow.

"That's better," Banshee sighs, almost sweetly, but his eyes tell a different story. He leans forward and places his black-gloved hands on the black metal armrests attached to the chair. His face is inches away from Becca's, and she can't help but recoil at the distance.

"Now," he says. "Obviously my books didn't give you enough information, and that's why you came looking for me. What do you want to know, Becca Reed?"

Becca swallows, hoping it would make her mouth less dry, make it easier to talk, but it doesn't.

Banshee slams his hands on the chair, and Becca leaps into the air as it startles her.

"What do you want to know?" He screeches.

"Everything," Becca hisses, feeling that same boost of confidence that she had had the day of her trial come back into her system.

Banshee smiles. "I thought you would never ask."

Abruptly, he stands up. He doesn't miss a beat when he starts talking, as if he'd rehearsed what he'd say a thousand times.

"Eleven years ago, I had been one of the three leaders for the Light Clan. My name was R. J. Jean. Rupert James Jean. I worked in the disciplinary branch of the government, and I would sit in at court hearings to make sure the right punishments were carried out—make sure my punishments were carried out.

"One day, a month before I... I'll get to that part momentarily. But one day, three black masks robbed a White Clan couple, broke into their house. I was called in to look around, make sure everything was okay, that nothing was broken, and to take inventory on the missing items.

"The couple introduced themselves politely, as all white masks are supposed to do. I said hello back, and then a little four year old comes running up, saying she dressed herself. She was covered in both black and white clothing. No colors, like many children her age wore, just the two different colors. Her parents were horrified and told her to go change. I laughed and kneeled down to introduce myself before she could run off to obey them.

"'I'm Rupert J. Jean,' I said, and she smiled and told me her name. I told her I liked her outfit, and her parents hastily apologized. Of course, I didn't care about that. I knew she was different. No child mixes the two colors of clothing and just those two colors. They've been raised not to from their parent's fear of them being thrown in with the Dark Clan, and if their parents were in the dark clan, their parents were afraid of the death penalty for mixing the colors.

"She had a cut on the side of her face. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to look like it stings. It looked a lot like mine does now. But for some reason, it infuriated me. I asked her what happened and she said a man with a knife cut her.

"I finished up what I needed to do and then I left. Something inside of me snapped. I was angry.

"I went to find the guys that robbed the house. Two of them had died in a rioting over the new law passed about segregating the Light Clan and the Dark Clan from certain public places, should the owners decide to follow through with it. But the last one... the last man was still alive. And I wasn't going to let that slide."

Banshee starts pacing excitedly, a craze stirring in his eyes as they dart around the room.

"It took a month for me to find him. I showed up at his living quarter door and knocked. I knocked... The excitement grew inside of me as I anticipated the door opening. I waited and waited... But the door never opened. I finally unlocked the door with the master key I had from the position I was in. I could almost taste the revenge on my tongue...

"I snuck in. Looked around. Everything was dark and all the lights were off. Everything was in place. I remember hearing the boards creek beneath my feet as I walked.

"Then I heard this booming voice explode from the doorway. It was the man. He was dressed in black and wore a plain black mask. I'd never seen anyone wear a plain mask before. It was strange.

"He asked me what I was doing here and I told him who I was. He pulled a knife on me. But the joke was on him."

Banshee walks to one of the corners of the room, the back left according to the position of the front door, and bends down to pick something up. The item he now holds is hidden behind his long cloak that covers his hands.

"I shot him. Dead. After that, I stepped over him and ripped the mask from his despicable face. His shameful face... I carried it out of his room, out of his little home, and to the girls' front door. She opened it. She called for her mom. I told her, 'I got him. I got him for you. You don't have to be afraid anymore.'" Banshee's voice starts to sharpen, starts to rise, to get grittier.

"She called for her parents. They came. They came and sent me away. Told Quill. Sent me to court. I should have died, but Quill was young then, was merciful. He changed my name. Changed my name to Banshee Fletch. B. F. That was the man's name. The man's name I killed. Quill told me to wear the mask to show everyone my shame! He told me to wear it—to never—take—it—off!"

He turns around quickly to Becca. "But I did, Becca Reed. I did. I did it in front of Quill and his minions. Quill said that was the last straw. He told me no more.

"He watched me carefully, but I watched him even closer. I knew who he would pick to be the next leader. That girl. That little girl with the mismatching clothes. That girl—that girl was you, Becca. Becca Reed.

Chapter 28

Finding out she that was right about her being the next Leader of the Clans does not make Becca happy. It just makes her even more afraid. Everything he's telling her...

"And then I found you again. You had just turned five that night I followed you into the alleyway. You had no idea... You hated your mask. I didn't understand why. When you took it off, I panicked. You couldn't be sent to the Dark Clan. Not yet. It wasn't time. You were wrong..." Banshee's eyes bore into Becca's, the world tilting around her as she tries to process all of the information Banshee is giving her.

"The ceremony." He says abruptly. "The ceremony is when it happened. You had to choose it. I couldn't let you... no... the—the people! But you didn't. You chose wrong. You chose wrong, Becca Reed!" Banshee takes a step back and puts a hand to his head, the other one still hidden beneath his long sleeve.

"And then I made up my mind. I would force you to come to the Dark Clan. I stole a mask and killed that man, and then blamed it on you. It was my birthday present to you. Don't you like how it turned out?"

Becca jumps at Banshee, clawing at him and trying to hit him, but he manages to sit her back down.

"You!" She cries, anger raging through every fiber in her body. "Why would I like the way all of this turned out? You're the one that ruined my life!"

"Oh, but there's more," Banshee says, holding her down by the shoulders. He laughs once and smirks as he stands back up. His eyes look down at her, two walls holding back secrets and regrets untold to the world.

No wonder why the grown-ups hide their eyes. They're so full of sorrow and wishful thinking and rue...

"The boxes, although technically a gift from me, were placed for you by someone else. Someone that didn't know you before you were a black mask. The same someone that you shot dead after he paid you a visit."

"Twitch," Becca breathes. "That's how you got my mask..."

"Isn't it all fitting together nicely?" Banshee says with a slow smile.

"But what about the last box?" Becca asks, feeling that alternate personality with infinite confidence creep back into her system. "Who put that at my doorstep?"

Banshee smiles and opens his arms wide in pride. "Who else?"

"Why?" Becca asks. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because you're special, Becca. You're different. And that's why you need to die."

He pulls a gun out from under his sleeve and points it at Becca. His face is hard as a rock and his arm is steady as a stream. The sound of Becca's heartbeat crescendos as she stares down the hole where the bullet comes out.

"Today is the day you are alone. Today is the day you will need me." He tosses the gun and it clatters on the wooden floor, skidding across the floor a small ways before stopping. "You were supposed to die. In that Masking Ceremony. But you didn't because of that boy, Eduard. What a smart kid. Knew what I believed.

"I found his journal. I memorized the words he wrote down. Except I knew comfort. I knew why I had comfort. You were safe from that man, safe from the man with the knife."

"But not from you," Becca hisses, still glaring at the man in front of her, but glad Eduard has nothing to do with the boxes.

"Becca!" He says, shocked and hurt. "You are completely safe with me!"

"I beg to differ! You want me dead!"

"No, no, no, no... I don't want you dead. I just want to make sure the future is right, is on track. That the dream goes according to plan."

"Dream?" Becca laughs once, feeling blood rush to her head as she steps on dangerous territory. "What about a dream can be so real that you actually believe it?"

"The symbolism."

"Oh, please, Banshee—"

"I had a dream that you stood before our nation. That you stood without a mask. That you had an army behind you, waiting for your command. I saw destruction, I saw war, I saw people dying—all because of you. All because of what you started. All because you were next in line to become the Leader of the Clans. You destroyed our nation."

"I would never do those things, Banshee." Becca stands up and gets in his face.

"Oh, Becca. Becca, Becca, Becca..." Banshee smiles and chuckles. "You already have. Look around you. You're the Face of the Maskless. You're starting to run the rebellion. You. Are. Fulfilling. My. Dream."

Becca begins to retaliate, when something clicks in her brain. She is. She's doing it. He's right.

"Why?" She asks suddenly, the word like acid from her lips. "Why did I do it? Why did I start the wars and why are people dead? What happened?"

Banshee smiles.

"My dreams speak truths," he says quietly to her. "That's why Quill assigned me where he assigned me. My dreams show things in the distant, or near, future..."

"But why did it all happen?"

Banshee chuckles. "Because it will happen. You just need to die first."

He pushes her back in the chair and whips around to grab the gun. Before she knows it, he's holding the gun out to her to take.

"Take it. Kill me if you wish. But just remember the real enemy. You want to bring down the government? Go bring down the government. But you have to go through me first."

Becca shakes her head, all of the confidence draining from her.

"But you said I have to die—how does this—?"

"Take it," Banshee says, his voice low and threatening. "Take it!"

She shakes her head again.

"Take the gun!" He screams, and hits her across the face with the butt of the wickedly shaped weapon. "Take it!"

Becca feels fury flare up inside of her again, but she still refused the gun.

Banshee starts banging hitting the gun on her and the chair, screaming for her to take it. To take it from him.

She watches as he brings the gun down once more, and she grabs the black metal, twists it out of his hands as she stands up, and uses his momentum to push him in the chair where she sat moments before. She brings the gun up to his head and stares at his skull. She knows where the bullet will penetrate. She can see it crush through his bone and into his brain. Her fingers shake as they touch the gun. The last time she used this...

A drop of sweat falls down her hairline and Banshee chuckles, smiles at her—grins at her.

"You're ready," he says.

"Ready for freaking what?" She growls, still holding her arms out in front of her and the gun up to his head.

"To take down the Leader of the Clans."

Chapter 29

Becca finds herself lowering the gun with a scowl on her face. Banshee just watches her, not an ounce of fear in his eyes. He's perfectly at ease.

Becca, on the other hand, is not.

Something inside of her has snapped. Snapped mentally. This alter ego of hers, this other side to Becca hasn't gone away. Instead, it tucks the gun into the back of her pants and turns away without a word.

"Good luck," Banshee calls as she reaches the door. "You'll need it."

Becca reaches the door and touches the knob, and suddenly, there's a splintering bang right beside her head. A knife sticks out, wobbling a little. She looks back at Banshee, who is still sitting in the chair, and he pulls another knife from his sleeve. It twirls around his fingers like a baton as he smiles at her.

Becca's new attitude wavers a bit, but she takes a deep breath and the false confidence is back.

"One more question, Banshee," She asks before opening the door up. He nods and she continues. "What was the paper you gave Quill?"

Banshee chuckles and shakes his head. "All in good time, Becca. Don't rush anything. Not just yet. Baby steps. Baby steps..."

Becca stares at him for the longest time, trying to decipher what's going on in his head, what he's talking about. Could he be warning them about the Maskless? About her?

She swings the door open and steps through, the wood shutting out the sudden burst of insane laughter from Banshee and another knife hitting the door.

She starts to run, starts to sprint back to the room with the boys. The door opens easily, but both of them are up and wandering about the room. Mikey looks up from the book Becca had stolen from the library, and Eduard whips around the corner of the bathroom to stare straight at her. He pushes forward a bit, and then stops himself to backpedal a few steps.

"Where did you go?" He asks her.

"Nowhere. I need all of the Maskless. Now."

"What—why?" Eduard barks.

"Because Quill might know who I am. Where I am. We need to get out of here. He's going to be looking for me. For us."

"But he doesn't know our faces or our masks—"

"And that's the problem," Becca says, grabbing her things and throwing them in her bag, including the black box. "Everyone is starting to get ID's with both their faces and masks on them, and pretty soon everyone is going to have to have it. I know if we don't have that, they'll automatically know that we're the Maskless."

Eduard nods and looks at Mikey, who walks up and hands the book to Becca. She swings the bag around her shoulders to the front of her and shoves it inside.

The sound of barking dogs slip under the windowsill.

The trio glances at each other and a painful thought crosses Becca's mind.

"I don't have a mask," she says, but instead of the normal feeling of panic she's so used to in these situations, it's replaced with anger. A slow, churning anger that starts to rise from the bottom of her torso and makes its way up to her brain.

Mikey shakes his head and pulls his bag out from behind him. "I brought extra. I have one white and a few black. Pick one."

Becca reached in without looking and grabbed one of the masks edges. She pulls it out.

White.

Eduard pulls out a black mask as Becca stares at the mask in her hands. She's pressing too hard. She's too angry. Of course she'd pull out the white mask. It looks at her with a smile, almost seeming to taunt her, to laugh at her. Banshee's laughter rings in her mind as she stares at the plain white mask.

It snaps in half before she realizes she needs to release the tension between her hands. It's almost a perfect split down the center, and she stares at it, amazed.

"Great," Mikey says, not smiling anymore.

"I'm sorry, I'm—"

Suddenly she remembers the dreams. The half masks. Black and white.

The white part she holds in her right hand is a smile, a smile that reminds her of Quill's mask. A malevolent smile. A Banshee smile.

She digs her hand into the bag again and produces two black masks. She takes the one with the biggest frown and snaps it in half as well, throwing all four halves of the masks into her bag and placing the last mask on her face.

"What are you doing?" Eduard asks, his mask already over his face.

"Nothing," Becca says, not knowing exactly what she's doing, but she knows it feels right. "Let's go."

"Becca, are you—"

"I am fine, Eduard," Becca snaps, spinning around. Her hair brushes against his shoulder and she feels the blood rushing to her cheeks, but not from embarrassment—from anger.

"Hey, calm down—"

"Do not tell me to calm down, Mikey," she spits and her eyes dart between their two masks. "I could die today."

"What?" Eduard asks, stepping closer to her. Becca's heart flutters a little bit, but she ignores it. "What do you mean?"

"Just come on."

"No, I want to know what you mean, Becca."

"Eduard. You'll see. I just need someone to help me. I need everyone to—"

"No." Eduard says, cutting her off.

"What?" Becca asks, the anger inside her simmering now.

"I said no."

"Why?" Becca steps closer to him, wishing she looked like more of a threat. Suddenly, the gun feels heavy as it sits in the back of her pants.

"Because you don't seem to be in your right mind."

A short laugh slips out from her mouth and she takes a step back. "I'm certainly in my right mind. Now do as I ask."

"No."

"I'm the freaking Face of the Maskless, Eduard, you said so yourself. You want me to lead? This is me leading."

"Yeah, but, newsflash, Becca—you're just the Face. I am the brains, and you know it. So shut your trap and listen to me."

Becca is taken aback and the anger is boiling now. "You know what? I don't need you. Any of you." She turns toward the door.

"Becca—" Eduard reaches out to grab her arm.

She pulls the gun out from the back of her pants and points it at him. "Let go."

It takes a moment before he follows her instructions. When he lets go, she lowers the weapon and tucks it back into place as she opens the door and steps out into the hallway, her destination in her brain. She's doing it. She hates him. Hates Quill. Hates Banshee. If Quill wouldn't have chosen her... if Banshee wouldn't have had those dreams... she could be home with her family right now. She sees it all clearly now.

And it's time for someone to pay for what has happened to her.

Chapter 30

Quill looks down at the piece of paper he had found in his breast pocket the night he gave his speech about the new ID policy. He sits in his quiet, still office, wrapping up for the night. It's not a large office, although it's the largest office available. He has a white desk placed at the back with a black chair, much like the courtroom, and pale walls all around him, photos of the past Leaders hanging on the wall. They all wear the same mask, but their bodies are all different. Names are plastered beneath their images, all different and not one of them even close to the same. One day Quill will be up there as well, but not anytime soon. His first choice has disappeared on him, probably involved in this new revolt that is trying to break through the surface. His search starts tomorrow, and he's dreading looking over all of the paperwork involved over the other children he had chosen long ago.

The officers still haven't found any of the Maskless rebels, or they would have reported it to him by now. He can't lose control of his city now. He'll be wiped out and someone else will take his place—someone much harsher and much older. Someone like the Leader of the State.

The Face. That's what they call their leader. Whoever he is, Quill is confident he won't be hard to find. It's the process of taking him captive and arresting him and his group that's the difficult part. They would all be beheaded or deported to another country, where they can be taken care of through harsher punishments. Until then, all he can do is sit and wait for news. It makes him a bit antsy, but he doesn't mind not getting involved just yet. He has many things to look over and many more cases to solve.

The only other problem is this small piece of paper boggling his mind. He can't seem to focus with questions twisting about his brain like snow in a blizzard. What does it mean? Why are these words written that way, in that order?

Alone, she will come. Only one will stay.

How did the small paper get into his pocket? For a moment, he tells himself it's just a prank a black mask is pulling, and he believes it. He believes that it's all a prank, that it's all a joke. But fear and doubt sink in slowly as he realizes something will happen to him. He might die. He might lose all of his power. All of the power he is unwilling to give up.

The door to his office bursts open and a cop comes through, huffing and puffing as she leans against the doorframe.

"Sir! Sir, we have an emergency!" She cries, stepping into the office. Quill stands up suddenly, slipping the paper back into his breast pocket.

"Show me."

"Out here!" She cries and he walks out first. She shuts the door behind him as he walks into the center of the city hall building. The entire room is empty, the entire facility is vacated, and the dome above Quill makes his footsteps echo back down to him.

He turns around to look back at the woman, but she's gone.

What the...?

The lights go out and he stands in pure blackness. He hears the clicking of shoes echo off of the wall, but he can't pinpoint where it's coming from. He feels blind. He feels threatened.

"Whoever you are, you could get in serious trouble for doing this to me!" Quill shouts.

A laugh echoes around him, bouncing off of the walls and the ceiling he knows is above him. He strains his eyes to see in the dark, but it's no use. There is no light anywhere in the building. There's nothing to help him see.

"And what punishment would that be?" A voice answers. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Quill spins around.

"Death."

"Ha!" The voice says. "I've already faced it. Multiple times."

The lights come back on and a girl stands at the front doors. Her mask is half black and half white, mended together with shiny silver staples, and her messy brown hair falls over her shoulders. The mask is almost an exact replica of the one that hangs in the courtroom.

"Hello again, Quill," the voice says, and he can finally pinpoint it.

"Becca Reed?" He asks. "What are you doing?"

She chuckles and walks up to him. She's the exact same height as he is, but that doesn't scare him any. The thing that scares him is that there may be more people waiting for him to make the wrong move. There may be people waiting to shoot him dead.

"I'm ready," she says, placing her hands on her hips.

"For what?" Quill asks, growing frustrated.

"To take my spot as the Leader of the Clans." She holds her hand out expectantly. "Can't you see? I have both of them on my face. So give me your mask. It's time for you to step down."

"Becca Reed, you need to stop and think. The rebellion has brainwashed you. They have put thoughts into your head—"

"They haven't done anything!" Becca shouts. Quill is startled by her sudden outburst. She never yelled at anybody while she was growing up. Then again, she never did to anyone what she did in court to him.

She composes herself and takes a few steps back.

"Fine. Then I'll force you to give it to me."

Her arm whips behind her back and she pulls a gun on Quill, turning her head to the side to perfectly line up the shot. "Give it to me."

"You can't shoot anyone, Becca," Quill says, raising his hands up a bit.

"Oh, but I have. Might have been accidental, but I have."

"Oh, well that's unfortunate."

"Like you have any room to talk," Becca spits. "You manipulate people for a living. You can't be head of both sides! Doing so means you're a part of the Dark Clan, because you lie and cheat and kill people and—"

"Oh, Becca," Quill says, a smile reflecting the one on his mask forming behind his mask. "If only you knew the half of it."

In one moment of Becca's hesitation, Quill disarms her and points the gun back around at her chest, cocking it and steadying his hands.

Becca jumps back, surprised. This wasn't part of her plan. He's supposed to be dead by now. He's supposed to be on the floor, bleeding. She's supposed to have the mask. She's supposed to...

Panic blossoms inside of her and she swallows. Her arms float up past her head and she sways nervously on her feet.

"There are hundreds of people out there, waiting for a speech from you that Belle had spread a rumor about tonight," she says as she smirks at the name Belle, keeping her unseen eyes trained on Quill. "Half of them are now a part of the Maskless, and they're all led by me."

"So you're the Face?" Quill chuckles. "I would have never guessed, Becca Reed."

"What can I say?" She says, shrugging. "Apparently I'm not easy to kill."

She spins around and darts to the side, just as a bullet shatters a glass door. Becca hears some gasps from the audience as the shards clatter to the ground. She swings the door open and hears another bullet whirr beside her ear. The crowd is large, larger than normal because it's so unexpected.

And it will be unexpected.

"People of this city!" Becca cries out as Quill comes out into the night, keeping the gun pointed to her. The whispers and voices bouncing between the buildings lining the large street leading to the city hall building quiet and Becca continues. "Look at my mask. What do you see? Black. White. Both. Together. Good can't exist if there is no bad, and the same goes with bad. No one is perfect, no matter how much the society tells you you are because you obey all of the rules and you get to die without a mask! It's all just a complex way to control us!"

"Shut up!" Quill shouts to Becca, a lock of brown hair slipping through the crack between his mask and the dark fabric that covers the rest of his head.

Becca tears her eyes away from Quill and looks back at the audience. "We all have regrets, we all screw up, and we all wish we were perfect. But we're not. I thought long and hard about this, and I have a lot of time to sit and think, since I'm never in town anymore and I'm always running. And if you're wondering, I'm always running because I'm the Face of the Maskless."

The crowd bursts out in chatter and cheers, and Becca tries to silence them again, feeling the pressure of Quills gun on her shoulder blades, although it sits a good ten feet away from her. Her forehead begins to sweat and she feels the confident her slip into place once again.

"My name is Becca Reed, and I am Maskless."

Becca rips off the mask, the two-toned ribbons fraying apart from each other, and the crowd falls silent as they look upon her face.

"No!" Quill shouts, gaining ground to her. "You will not take my people away from me! They are my people, and I will not go down without a fight. They know what's right and they know what's wrong—that's the way we were all raised. The way we should all live! What she's doing is wrong," He says to the people, still holding the gun to her. "It is punishable by death to reveal yourself in the way that she has, going against the government, killing two men, and whatever other horrible crimes she has committed. She is blinded by the wrongs she has done and she wants to drag you all down with it."

"No, I don't!" Becca argues. "I've seen what it's like to be Maskless, to have a face, not a mask. No one pities you because of your regrets that show in your faces, and no one tells you that you have to decorate your face because you need to be identifiable, because you look like everyone else and they need to put a name to you, no one kills you because of the color face you have, and no one is good or bad because that's what is expected of them. We even have different skin colors! Did you know that? I didn't! And they're not black and white like our masks. There are so many others, and no one is placed in one category or the other. We are all the same, and no one is left out, segregated, or ignored."

"Stop!" Quill screeches.

"No! I will not! Not until everyone here is Maskless, not until everyone knows what it's like. Not until you are brought down. Until all of this is brought down."

There's a searing pain in Becca's leg and the crowd reacts as she drops to the ground, blood pouring from the side of her calf.

"Get back up and shut up, or the next one will be through your heart."

Becca struggles to get up, trying to hide the pain on her face. She can't let them see that he's hurt her. She can't let them see that he's weakening her. Her will is stronger than her flesh, and she won't. Give. In.

"I will not stop until everyone here chooses a side. If they choose you, then I will go quietly and receive my punishment. If they choose me, you have to take off your mask and hand it to me. Are you feeling cocky enough to accept, oh great Leader of the Clans, Quill Henson?"

Becca hears him chuckle, the laugh bubbling up from a deep spot in his throat.

"Deal," he says, not moving the aim of the gun from her torso. "This ought to be fun."

"People, look inside your hearts. Do you really want to hide everything from everyone forever? Do you want to keep hiding behind a mask until the day you keel over, and for every day after that, rotting in your grave? I know that I don't, and I don't want to be treated as a white mask or a black mask, but as a person, as a human being. This man has kept the tradition going for however long he's been in office, and the many Leaders of the Clans before him too. It's been too long. It's time for change.

"So now is your time to pick. Take off your masks if you agree with me and become one of the Maskless. Take them off and change the world with me."

No one moves. No one takes off the masks. No one says a word. They stare. They stare and look back and forth from her to Quill. Are they afraid? Do they want everything to stay the same forever? Has she lost?

Quill chuckles and shakes his head. "I hope you like walking. Because your death is waiting for you at the end of the tightrope you're walking on."

Becca moves her eyes from the crowd and looks at him, the fear growing inside of her. She nods.

"So now is the time..." She says quieter, less confident. "To choose tradition, to choose Quill... And not to change anything, to stay in your ways and never grow as a human being, to never have your voice heard or your face seen, to be another mask in the sea of plastic and ceramic and whatever else these masks are made of..." Her eyes fall upon Eduard, who has elbowed his way to the front. He takes off his mask and his blue eyes are filled with fear and tears. "Or to choose change. To choose me."

"Becca!" Eduard screams.

Pain. It ripples everywhere, and she feels warmth spread throughout her body as the world tips around her. She feels her knees hit the ground, numbness taking over as the world falls sideways and her eyes lay on Eduard's face for the last time before they close.

Banshee stands off to the side, his gun smoking and his mask blending in with the night.
Chapter 31

Quill Henson dreams of the girl, the girl who died that day. The girl who will never be a problem again, and the girl he had wanted to choose to be the next Leader of the Clans. He dreams of that night over and over. The people, the shouts, the blood, the boy that ran up the steps to kneel at her side, Banshee... How did things get so out of control?

The good news is, for Quill, is that everyone returned back to normal. They buried the body and people soon forgot about Becca Reed. She's a whisper to the wind long forgotten.

He wakes with a start, something in his dream startling him. His room is twice as large as anyone else's in the city because he is the Leader of the Clans, and there seems to be something wrong. Everything is lighter than normal. It's not supposed to be this light yet.

He feels a breeze on his face. His face? But his mask...

He reaches up to touch skin.

Something creaks above him. He looks up to see his mask on someone else in the rafters above his bed.

It drops to the floor, a figure cloaked in black slowly standing up before him. He sits straight in bed, his blood running cold.

"Help!" He cries.

The figure with his mask shakes its head and points to the window above his bed. It's open.

He looks back to where the figure was.

It's gone.

In its place is a mask. Its colors are strange in the moonlight as Quill slowly gets out of bed, his feet touching the white carpet of the Light Clan's living quarters. He reaches for it and lifts it up so he can see.

The colors are dark on the front, and sparkles in different places as the pale moonlight slips through the open window. The mask looks partially melted, and as he turns it over, he realizes there is enough light to read the words written in red on the white paint.

I know Becca Reed

. . .

Hiding

Behind

A

Mask

Look for the next book,

Hiding

Behind

A

Name

By K. Weikel

About the Author

K. Weikel has written many stories in the short eighteen years she's been alive. She used to read to her classmates in third or fourth grade, writing a new chapter every day just for that reason. The first actual book she ever wrote, and finished, was the Haunted Mansion, when she was about eight years old.

K. Weikel is attending college right now and getting her basics out of the way.

