I always had a bad habit of letting people follow me that I didn't know on Instagram. So many of my friends did it so I figured if they can do it I could do it, plus I had so many followers. One day I had someone follow me with an unusual picture. when I looked at the user name it said unknown but of course, I just shurgged it off but then no sooner I accepted their follow request they texted me. It wasn't a normal "hey how are you" text it was a video, a video of what looked like a dog getting skinned alive. They texted me"do you like it?" I then went to block them but when I hit the block button nothing happened then they started typing again, stopped then started again. All night I was scared that they were going to send another video of something horrifying. When I fell asleep they were still typing and when I got up they were still typing. for days I just left it but after a while, it drove me crazy. Something had to be done but then I got a text everything changed. "I'm in your house"

it was snowing, sleeting. the wind was howling, like an enourmous monster, circling and banging against the windows of the car.

“how many more miles?” she asked. she was feeling restless, trapped in the passenger seat.

“not sure,” he replied, eyes laser focused on the road.

they descended into tense silence. the pine trees blurring through the frost were like long, ghostly fingers, reaching toward the sky.

from what they could see, the road was nondescript. the ice blanketed their vision, smoothed any irregularities in the landscape.

it was like a still, frozen, lake, the world.

their minds drifted off to sleep, they could have driven over a cliff and not noticed, in their haze.

only the figure on the side of the road woke them up again.

“i'm bored. pull over,” she whispered. they were hanging on strings, suspended above darkness. they drifted over to the side of the road, snipping the threads with dull scissors.

the girl, she was pale, white as bleached eggs at the supermarket. her jacket was the shade of the surrounding flurries. tears slipped down her cheeks, dull crystals.

she saw them coming. a flash of something- hope, excitement, possibility- brimmed in her eyes.

her icy lips trembled when she spoke, as her creamy cable-knit hat slid down her forehead. “thank goodness you noticed me. can i have a ride? my car skidded out and rolled into a ditch.”

there was a beauty to being skeptical, it complicated things.

“where’s the car? i don’t see it?”

her answer was practiced, methodical.

“i’ve been here for hours. my car’s been covered with snow.”

this poor girl. she could be saved.

but not by them.

“i’m sorry. we don’t give rides to strangers.” she sniffed. “hopefully someone else will come along.”

they climbed back in the car, started up the rattling engine.

the girl began screaming, echoing the howl of the wind.

“you’ll regret this.”

but what is ignored can’t be regretted, so they drove off, watching as she turned from a figure to a speck to absolutely nothing.

the snow began pouring down, shoveled agressively from the sky. the world was completely white, and somehow, they couldn’t help but think back to the girl.

should they had helped her?

it wasn’t their calling. surely other cars would whiz down the road, rescue her. she’d be fine.

a rustle from the backseat.

they thought nothing of it. they were so close to their destination.

for a moment, everything was still.

two white gloved hands emerged from the backseat, clamped over their mouths.

coal black eyes, endless pits.

a hiss.

”i always come back...”

'Jane, could you come down to the kitchen？' her mother's familiar voice calls from the kitchen.

'Coming!' she bounds down the stairs.

She is down when the cupboard at the foot of the stairs opens and a pair of hands draw her in.

'Don't go into the kitchen; I hear it too,' her mother's voice whispers into her ears.

Ever since this coronavirus pandemic began, everyone’s been forced to wear these obnoxiously stuffy masks. I never bothered to stock up on them, being the introvert I am, but now that school’s starting, I guess I should. It’s slightly better than dying.

I set out with the last mask I have, and a light jumper to keep out the cold. As I step out the door a blast of cold wind hits me. How did the days go by so fast? It seems like only a couple days before the summer sun had been warming the streets. I hurry to the nearby corner shop, trying to avoid the crowds. I enter the shop and am greeted by an eerie silence. The shop is usually empty but never this quiet.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” I yell into the quiet.

“Over here! Welcome to my humble shop! Are you new here?” a strange man asks.

“I’m good, but who are you? I come here often and I don’t recognize you,” I reply in confusion.

“Oh, this shop is my uncle’s. I’m just watching it for today,” he replies in a muffled voice.

I notice he’s wearing some sort of a bandana as a mask, which reminds me of why I’m here.

“Do you happen to have any masks in stock?” you ask.

“It’s your lucky day! We have one box left!” he replies in what I assume is a cheerful voice.

It’s really hard to tell what people are feeling with these masks covering everyone’s faces. I walk over to the counter and pay for the box of masks.

“Those are some really nice masks by the way. They really stay snug on your face. Great for keeping the germs out!” the cashier states.

“That’s good to hear,” I reply as I take the box of masks and look up at him.

Now that I’m closer, I notice that the skin around his bandana looks red and puffy. Must be from the chaffing of these annoying masks. Why did this pandemic thing have to happen anyways?

“Well, I should get going now. I have some chores to do,” I say as I turn to leave the shop.

As I walk towards the door I hear the man clear his throat.

“It gets a little lonely around here, running the shop on my own. Would you mind… Oh what am I saying, of course you wouldn’t. We have nothing in common anyways.”

As much as I want to ignore him and walk away, I feel bad for the man.

Turning around I reply, “No no, go on.”

“It’s just… Would you be willing to spend some time with me sometime? You know, go for a walk? Or just talk… ”

“Sure. Maybe after I’m done my chores I can come back and we could chat for a little,” I reply hesitantly. It won’t be that bad right? I mean, it’ll only be for a little while. Until the owner’s back.

“Thanks! I appreciate it! See you soon!” he exclaims excitedly.

Poor man I think to myself as I wave goodbye. He must be really lonely in here. I sure would be.

________

It’s a few days later when I need to wear a mask outside. My parents keep pestering me about being locked up in the house so I decide to go out for a walk. I put on the mask and immediately love how snug it feels on my face. I test it out by faking a yawn and shaking my head, but it’s not going anywhere. The only thing that I find annoying is how trapped I feel with it on.

I hurry outside, looking forward to coming home and taking off the mask as soon as possible. A couple minutes into the walk I feel the mask getting tighter around my face so I adjust it. There’s barely any room between the mask and my face, but I manage to loosen it enough to let some air in.

Soon, it begins to rain and the park begins to empty out. I take it as a sign to start heading home, so I turn around. As I begin the short walk home I feel the mask tightening around my face again. I raise my hand to loosen it but I can’t seem to find the space between the mask and my face. I trace the edge of the mask looking for a small space to pull it away from my skin but still can’t find a gap.

I start to breathe faster as the mask continues to tighten around my nose and mouth, cutting the air out. I can barely move my mouth as I struggle to yell out for help. My vision begins to darken as I fall to the ground, clawing at my throat. As I begin to lose consciousness I see the man from the shop walking towards me. Weakly, I raise my arms towards him, begging him to help as the mask grows tighter.

AIR!

I NEED AIR!

As I last ditch attempt I reach out for anything around me. Anything to get this demon of a mask off me! My fingers curl around a cold glass bottle. Struggling to keep my hold on it, I raise my hand and smash the bottle into the floor. I feel the sting of broken glass cutting into my hand as I raise the bottle to my face and cut into my flesh. I cut the mask off my face, sawing it off with the broken bottle edge. Crying out in pain I tear apart my tender face. The bloodstained mask falls to the floor as I suck in air. My vision returns, and I look down to see the mask, the skin still stuck to the cloth. The rain washes the blood off my face and I watch it swirl down the sidewalk.

Once I catch my breath, I look up to find the man still standing in front of me.

“Why didn’t you help me?” I ask faintly, grimacing at the pain this causes.

He continues to stare down at me in silence. It’s raining harder now and the sound is deafeningly loud.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU HELP ME?!” I ask, anger replacing the pain.

He simply reaches up and removes the bandana covering his face. I watch as he slowly reveals what’s been hidden for so long. The fabric slides off, uncovering an impossibly wide smile, splitting his face in half, glistening red flesh framing it. I watch in horror as he lets the fabric fall to the ground beside mine, and crouches lower, pushing his face in front of mine. The skin around his mouth peeled back to reveal needle sharp teeth, glinting with blood.

This feeling is worse than the suffocation of the mask.

This feeling woke up something carnal in me.

So this is what true fear feels like.

I look into his deep, hypnotic black eyes and see my reflection. I fall back, shocked by what I see. For I look exactly like the monster in front of me.

It steps closer, and opens its mouth, emitting an animalistic growl before beginning to speak.

“Still willing to be friends? We have something in common now.”

Side 1 of postcard:

Congrats! Your child may be selected to be sacrificed on the altar to our new egod EconoME. Have your child, ______(child's name)_____, at your local school on Thursday for this high honor.

Side 2 of postcard:

Of all our brilliant nations’

promising sensations,

heartfelt congratulations

for YOUR gracious oblations!

The name goes down in history

for all peoples to praise and see.

Bring _____(your child)_____ to your local venue

with valium for _____(your child)_____ and you,

and with all your regalia.

We can’t wait to hail ya!