Mask
Iaian
McLachlan
Sempsy thought it was the ugliest thing that he’d ever seen in his life.
The
latex Halloween mask had a label identifying the product
as “Undead Fiend – Made in Malaysia.”
A more accurate description would have been “Road Accident
Victim”.
It
was indeed very ugly, but ideal for the job in hand. The
others in the gang were all wearing very similar masks,
bought from the bargain bin at Wal-Mart the night before.
Although the masks were superficially identical, Sempsy
detected some subtle but important
differences in the one he chose to wear, particularly in
the pattern that the glued-on scars formed, the contour
of the evil sneer made by the mouth and especially the area
around the eyes.
It
was when he actually donned it he immediately realised how
special the mask was. It completely obscured the numerous
real scars that he had acquired from his girlfriend, Jules,
the result of one of many violent fights that he and her
had over the course of their relationship. She had certainly
done a number on him this time with the aid of shattered
beer glass. To cap it all, she had then sold his medication
and then quit town on the first available Greyhound.
So
the mask perfectly reflected Sempsy’s mood. Ugly.
And mean.
It
was also a surprisingly snug fit, easily fitting to the
contours of his face, as if especially tailored for him.
The fact that he refused to take it off ever since putting
it on hours ago added to the sense of unease felt by the
other members of the gang. Because he had not had access
to his medication for over a week now, Sempsy had been prone
to excessive sweating, periods of hyperactivity and mood
swings. As a result he had to constantly reassure his companions
that he was indeed up to the job.
And,
in fact, with the mask firmly in place, his whole demeanour
changed. His fever had completely disappeared and he appeared
calm and collected. His mind, normally a jumble of emotions
and fantasies had almost completely cleared, leaving only
one cold thought.
He had to use the gun he was carrying.
Sitting
in the car, watching the jewellery store across the road,
Sempsy decided that no matter how the job went down, some
blood was going to be spilled. What really settled it for
him was the appearance of the girl checking the stock in
the store front window. She looked a lot like Jules.
4:58.
It was time. Sempsy pressed the mask against his face.
He had the strange sensation that the latex had actually
began to meld to his skin. It was not an uncomfortable
sensation, just odd, and seemed to subtly excite him.
He took the safety catch off and went to work.