The Ultimate Collection of Science & Speculative Fiction Short Stories (Short SSF Stories Book 5)
Page 23
I place my thumbs under my chin and push the leather away. It refuses to budge. I use more force until my skin feels like it is coming apart. With a satisfying sllllurp-plop, I finally pry the mask off. I let it drop into the sink, then grab the makeup.
The mask stares back at me from the mirror.
My fingers touch my face. Instead of my skin, they graze the mask’s leather. Behind the narrow slits, my eyebrows meet in a confused frown. My gaze travels downward, where the mask in the sink is still grimacing at me.
A second layer must have been glued underneath, I realize. Drowning a sigh, I use the base of my palm to pry it off my face. I push it away as my thoughts drift to Jason and what I will be doing to him in a short while. Sllllurp-plop. The second layer crashes against the mirror and lands atop the first one. There.
The mask is still staring back at me from the mirror.
My mind freezes.
Furious fingers scratch my face, leaving traces on the mask’s leather.
I howl in rage.
Just come off, you stupid thing! Jason’s waiting!
I push it away with all my force. Sllllurp-plop.
The mask is staring back at me from the mirror.
Sllllurp-plop.
Sllllurp-plop.
Sllllurp-plop.
Soon, the bathroom is filled with masks. They all seem to be laughing at me.
I scream and yank the door open. I crash into Anne.
“Hey, is everything all right?” she asks as she tries to sneak a look inside the bathroom.
I shove her away and rush downstairs, ignoring the stunned looks.
Jason is still waiting for me. He rushes to me as I storm outside. “Hey, Pat, is—”
“Shut up,” I cry out and run to my car.
I slam the pedal and screech away toward downtown. I swerve to avoid running over a bunch of kids dressed up as ghouls and zombies. I need to find the shop and ask the old geezer what the hell is going on. He has to get this thing off my face.
Moments later, I reach the place. I slam the brakes and almost lose control of the car, narrowly avoiding crashing into an empty bus stop. Where the old man’s shop was, the familiar coffee shop now stands. Where is it?
I shut my eyes, count to ten, and open them again. The coffee shop is still sitting there, its neon welcome sign mocking me. I jump out of the car and yank the shop’s door open. A pimply guy is gawking at me. The place is almost empty, save for an old woman sipping her coffee.
“Cool mask,” pimple-face says.
His eyes open wide as I grab his shirt and pull him to me. “Where’s the old man?” I scream.
“What old man?” he stammers. “Mr. Simmons,” he cries out, “there’s someone for you.”
I let him go. He runs behind the counter and cowers as a middle-aged man comes through a door at the back. “Is everything all right here?” he asks in an authoritative voice.
“Does it look like everything’s all right?” I holler at him, pointing at my face. “Where’s the ancient dude? What’d you do with him?”
“Calm down, young woman,” he says in a hushed voice and takes me by the arm, glancing at the customers. “You’re making a scene.”
I jerk his hand away. “Do I look like I care?”
He grabs me again, more forcefully this time, and pulls me to a corner near the old woman, who seems to be enjoying the unexpected show. “Look, I can’t help you if I don’t understand what the problem is. Just take a breath, will you?”
I follow his advice and draw deep breaths. They do nothing to slow down my thumping heart. “There was a shop here. Had old costumes and stuff.”
He points at the floor. “Here?”
I, too, point at the floor. “Here.”
His brow creases. “When?”
“This morning. It was run by an ancient dude.”
“Ooh, that sounds like Mr. Wilson,” the old woman chimes in. “His shop used to be right here. He had the loveliest antiques, he did.”
“That can’t be right,” Simmons says, shaking his head. “We’ve been around for over twenty years now, and I don’t remember any such place.”
The old woman’s chuckle reminds me of crackling paper. “That’s because it closed when I was still this young woman’s age.” She lets out a sigh and leans back in her chair. “Ah, that Mr. Wilson. He loved his Halloween pranks, he did. Always scared us little things silly. Would have loved your mask.”
“I don’t care about your trip down memory lane,” I snap at her. “Where can I find him?”
She tilts her head the way dogs do when you blow one of those weird whistles—the ones no one else hears. “The cemetery, I’ll bet. I told you, he was already an old man when I was your age.”
“You’re lying,” I screech and push my hands against my ears. “You’re all lying.”
I barrel out of the shop before anyone can stop me. Tears fly from my eyes, blinding me. I crash into a bike that sends me flying into the air. I thump my head on the coffee shop’s glass window and black out for a moment.
“Are you all right?” an anxious voice is asking over and over again, breaking through the fog in my head.
I moan to get its owner to stop asking me that darned question. I sit up with an old man’s groan. My whole left side is on fire. I rub it gently to get a feel of the damage. “What happened?”
“You ran out of the coffee shop and into my bike.”
The rest of his words fade away along with my pain as I stare into the sweetest pair of brown eyes; eyes filled with worry. A gorgeous guy is hovering over me, his hands patting me down. Were it anyone else, I’d jerk them away. In this case, I long to lose myself in his arms. My eyes trip up on the sharp angles of his face and scarlet heat warms my cheeks.
I toss my head and push a runaway lock of my hair behind my ear. My finger stumbles on the mask’s edge and a curse hisses past my lips.
“Here,” he says and reaches for the mask. “Let me help you.”
Icy panic claws at my heart. “No,” I shriek. Before I can stop him, he pries away the awful thing from my face.
His eyes widen and a smile crawls up his lips. “Now, what’s such a beautiful girl doing with such an ugly mask?” He tosses it to the pavement. “There. You don’t need that.” He takes my hand and helps me to my feet.
My gaze travels from his handsome face to the horrible thing on the pavement and back. “It’s… off?” I stammer.
He frowns in the cutest way and places a warm palm over my brow as if checking my temperature. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
I cup his palm with trembling fingers. I swear that I feel a spark the moment I touch him. My lips part in a wide grin. “Never better.”
FULL CONTENTS
The Ultimate Bundle of SSF Short Stories
CONTENTS
THE POWER OF SIX
For the Last Time!
The Hand of God
Simulation Over
I Come in Peace
A Fresh Start
The Sentry
INFINITE WATERS
Infinite Waters
The Things We Do for Lust
James’ Life
Two’s a Crowd
What’s in a Name?
The Lucky Bastard
A Twist of the Tail
Is There a Doctor in the House?
Sex and Dinner
Would You Like Flies With That?
HONEST FIBS
Shoot the Devil
Little Star Corvette
Best Halloween Ever
The Price of Business
Twinsies
YOU’RE IN FOR A RIDE
You’re in for a Ride: Prologue
You’re in for a ride: Part I
A Crystal Too Far
You Can’t Fight a Prophecy
Heavy Sits the Frown
Royal Duties
Shoot the Devil (Redux)
Shh—the Baby’s Sleeping
You’re in
for a Ride: Part II
BONUS STORIES
To Name a Thing
Never Better
FULL CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
About the author
Notes from the author
Acknowledgments
These books would not have been written if not for Electra’s continued patience and faith in me, and for all the wonderful friends who support me, especially Mike Cardwell, Maria Messini, Effrosini Moschoudi, Irene Baka, Elle Boca, Nat Russo, Elpida Arslanoglou, George Giaglis, Autumn Birt, P.H. Solomon, Sally Cronin, Charles E. Yallowitz, BeetleyPete and so many others.
I am particularly grateful to my editor, Lorelei Logsdon; to my beta-readers, for all their hard work at pointing out the many mistakes of the original manuscript; and to Michelle Proulx for her eagle eye.
I should also thank Dimitris Fousekis and Alex Saskalidis for the wonderful cover art that beautifully captures the spirit of my books; Haris Koryllos, the very first person to buy my book; Anastassis Perakis, first to review it online, and the many readers and reviewers. Thank you! Special thanks to my wonderful blog followers, and my friends at the Fantasy and Science Fiction Network; eNovel Authors at Work; the Independent Author Network and the Rave Reviews Book Club.
Finally, I’d like to thank my fellow Indie authors—I know how hard it is what you do—and all my tweeps and followers. To them, to my parents and to the many teachers who have taught me so much in this life, as well as to my readers, without whose support this endeavor would matter but little, I offer my deep gratitude.
About the author
Nicholas Rossis lives to write and does so from his cottage on the edge of a magical forest in Athens, Greece. When not composing epic fantasies or short sci-fi stories, he chats with fans and colleagues, writes blog posts, walks his dog, and enjoys the antics of his baby daughter and two silly cats, all of whom claim his lap as home.
Nicholas is all around the Internet, but the best place to connect with him would be on his blog, http://nicholasrossis.me/
You can check out his books on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Nicholas-C.-Rossis/e/B00FXXIBZA/
Notes from the author
If you wish to report a typo or have reviewed one of Rossis’ books, please email info@pearseus.com with the word “review” on the subject line, to receive free bonus material.
Copyright © 2013-2016 Nicholas C. Rossis. All rights reserved.
Editor: Lorelei Logsdon
Original cover art copyright © 2013-2016 Dimitris Fousekis. All rights reserved.
Cover by Alexios Saskalidis. All rights reserved.
This is an original work of fiction. Any relationship to real people is unintentional and a coincidence.
Thank you for taking the time to read this book. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend and much appreciated. If you enjoyed it, please tell your friends or post a short review on http://nicholasrossis.com/rd?id=54
For every new review, Meli does a happy dance!