DEATH THE MASQUERADE

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CHAPTER SEVEN: DEATH'S HOUR

The clocks struck twelve in unison. Stephen had spent the last three hours binging on the bar's stock of alcoholic beverages. The other two did not wait too long before they joined in on the drunken debauchery.

The ballroom now grew ice cold. This was not even phasing the three, in their drunken inebriated states. Changes in temperature thought of by nature; as the air conditioning needed to be adjusted, or as the cooler needing to be turned off.

Stephen and Christopher had marked different areas of the ballroom mockingly. This spiteful action they took each time they emptied a bottle.

Barbara, she was silent. This state being the quietest she had ever been. She was now dancing. The girl wearing a long black flowing gown.

Bizarre music played on the girl's thoughts. Barbara was feeling mesmerized as she danced to the symphony instrumentation of The Masquerade.

The girl's partner, was a young and attractive, suavely spoken man wearing the clothes of a noble from days long passed.

Barbara's consort pursed his lips to hers, and moved his hand slowly to the woman's right breast. Barbara, she was now transfixed by the man's whisperings into her ears. The noble now began to peck at the right side of her bare neck, as he slowly caressed her exposed breast.

Behind the now passed out girl, whom had fallen in a sitting position against one of the ballroom walls, old grunge soiled hands grabbed the girl from behind. Barbara was quietly stolen away into a darkened crawlspace.


Eyes drooping in a drunken stupor, Christopher fought to stay awake. Somebody was behind him whispering into his left ear. The unseen woman drew his attention to look upon her from behind. The woman reached for his place of boy's favor with her left hand.

Her right arm wrapped around the boy's neck, as she brought the young intruder to a place of rising ecstasy. One black fingernail slashed deep into the flesh of the boy's neck. Christopher ignored the pain.

The barely visible woman forced him against the wall. Thoughts of this mysterious woman having her way with him, quickly seducing his interests.

The sounds of chopping temporarily woke the young man from his delusional stupor.

Christopher now felt something sticky and warm flowing beneath his left hand. Raising his left hand before his face, the drunken boy could only comment by laughing on what he could now see. His hand was dripping with blood.

The hatch for a second crawlspace now slid open. His mouth gagged by the grungy one-handed grip of the old caretaker, and Christopher too was drawn into the darkness between the walls.




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