Hidden Behind a Mask
The Start of My Misfortunes
What would you do if you lived in a world where vampires and werewolves have taken over? What would you do if from the moment you were born a mask was put on your face? And what if you could never take that mask off and the mask defined who you were? Every mask is different and the mask identifies you as a human. Only a select few can remove and change their masks. These few people are called chosens. Chosens are the ones who fight the battles against the vampires and werewolves or protect the political figures of the human race.
Chosens are very rare to find so once they are found a small society called organization VI takes them away to train them. Chosens never meet their families and they never ever make friends. If chosens were to make friends they would endanger the lives of them. Take it from someone who’s experienced it. Everyone in the human race looks up to chosens because the chosens protect them. The truth is being a chosen can drive you to insanity.
I put down my pen and closed my journal. The pages made no noise in the musty air that smelled of dying flowers. I looked over at the vase that once held the most beautiful of roses. Now all it held was withering flowers that looked pathetic and dreary. Why should I care though? It's not like the flowers mean anything.
"Whisper Evens please report to the president's office."
I always dreaded the cheerful voice that called my name through the intercom. How could the person announce something so happily when she knew there was a possibility she was sending a person to their death?
I hated the thought of heading to that small confined room where you could be told you were no longer of any use to Organization VI. Most of all I hated the fact that my life was controlled by a person whose mask was the darkest of black. Blacker than the deepest part of hell and scarier than death itself.
Internally I screamed as I thought of leaving the safety of my room to go and see that dreaded person. The person who supposedly ripped me from my mother's arms and pulled me to this hell hole that suffocated me. It's not like I have any where to run to though. I have no choice but to go and see this man who was crueler than the hands of fate. I stood up, abandoning my desk and journal and made my way to the steel door that held me in this room against my will.
There was a loud buzzing noise that sounded worse than a bee right by your ear. I heard a large thunk sound and immediately the door opened to reveal a man with handcuffs. He quickly handcuffed me and began to drag me down the hall. If I wanted to I could have killed the man in an instant but I didn't have the will to. This place had crushed my spirits long ago.
Chosens are very rare to find so once they are found a small society called organization VI takes them away to train them. Chosens never meet their families and they never ever make friends. If chosens were to make friends they would endanger the lives of them. Take it from someone who’s experienced it. Everyone in the human race looks up to chosens because the chosens protect them. The truth is being a chosen can drive you to insanity.
I put down my pen and closed my journal. The pages made no noise in the musty air that smelled of dying flowers. I looked over at the vase that once held the most beautiful of roses. Now all it held was withering flowers that looked pathetic and dreary. Why should I care though? It's not like the flowers mean anything.
"Whisper Evens please report to the president's office."
I always dreaded the cheerful voice that called my name through the intercom. How could the person announce something so happily when she knew there was a possibility she was sending a person to their death?
I hated the thought of heading to that small confined room where you could be told you were no longer of any use to Organization VI. Most of all I hated the fact that my life was controlled by a person whose mask was the darkest of black. Blacker than the deepest part of hell and scarier than death itself.
Internally I screamed as I thought of leaving the safety of my room to go and see that dreaded person. The person who supposedly ripped me from my mother's arms and pulled me to this hell hole that suffocated me. It's not like I have any where to run to though. I have no choice but to go and see this man who was crueler than the hands of fate. I stood up, abandoning my desk and journal and made my way to the steel door that held me in this room against my will.
There was a loud buzzing noise that sounded worse than a bee right by your ear. I heard a large thunk sound and immediately the door opened to reveal a man with handcuffs. He quickly handcuffed me and began to drag me down the hall. If I wanted to I could have killed the man in an instant but I didn't have the will to. This place had crushed my spirits long ago.