The Black Mask

November 17, 2011
By tooortuga BRONZE, Manhattan, New York
tooortuga BRONZE, Manhattan, New York
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

How did they find me? It was impossible. I quickly locked the door behind me. I could hear their footsteps that grew louder and louder as they approached. My heart was beating so hard that I felt it was going to jump out of my chest. “What should I do?...”

I could still hear their foot steps in the background as I looked around the dirty, old, empty room and saw a window that was covered by torn drapes. As I got closer to it and moved the drapes out of the way I noticed that it was too small for me to fit through. I started to feel as if the concrete walls were closing on me and I was going to be crushed to death.

By this time, I could hear the loud voices of the men getting closer and closer. I heard them at the door. I could hear them twisting the doorknob slowly. I looked at the floor but I couldn’t see a thing. Then with the reflection of the full moon I saw a big and old, silver candelabra covered with spider webs, dust and wax. I knew I had to use it to create a distraction.

I picked it up and smashed it into the window. Glass shattered and fell to the ground. “What are you doing?!?” I heard a man say. “Open the door right now!” I hid behind the door and I waited. Everything went silent, and then I heard a gunshot. They blew up the doorknob. I held my breath as they came in. It was the first time I saw them. One of them was very tall and was all dressed all in black, and the other one who was also dressed in black, was fat and short. But the dark room didn’t let me see their faces clearly. I was scared.

They walked towards the window and they both fit their heads through it. They were discussing and trying to look outside in the dark. I then started tiptoeing out the room, still holding my breath until I reached the long, dark hallway full of dust, spider webs and old ripped furniture. Without making any noise, I began to walk a little faster. But then, the wooden floor squeaked. I stood motionless hoping that they hadn’t heard it. I couldn’t tell if they heard or not because I couldn’t see or hear a thing. The only thing I could hear was the beating of my own heart. Suddenly I felt a large cold hand in my back, I turned around and saw a big round face covered with a big, black mask, and his eyes staring right back at me.

Similar Articles


This article has 1 comment.

AnshuR SILVER said...
on Jan. 12 2012 at 6:11 am
AnshuR SILVER, Thane, Other
7 articles 0 photos 45 comments

Favorite Quote:
There is nothing to writing.. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed. - Ernest Hemingway

Great work...!!! Loved the last part...really thrilling..!! Keep writing ;)


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!