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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/955624
Image Protector
by Seuzz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2183561
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#955624 added February 14, 2021 at 10:00am
Restrictions: None
The Door Prize
Previously: "Mystery Date, the SequelOpen in new Window.

Screw it. You want out of this scene as badly as Keith. If it's a blonde guy in the bathroom, it's probably one of the ballplayers. There's a lot of blond guys on the team. And if it isn't, well, it'll still be an Eastman person, and you can use them to try again to get to a ballplayer. Patterson won't like the wasted mask, but maybe you'll luck out and--

These rationalizations are interrupted by the door opening. True to your design, the exiting occupant doesn't see you, and you grab him from behind. He collapses back into your arms with the mask over his face, and you drag him into the bathroom.

Only after you've kick the door closed and laid him on the ground do you get a good look at him. He's blonde, as Keith said he would be, and you recognize him as a loudmouth who was flirting with a bunch of girls. You do recognize him as a member of the Eastman basketball team--which is a blessing--but he's new to it, so you don't have his name on the tip of your tongue.

You lean against the bathroom vanity, tapping your foot impatiently, waiting for the mask to reappear. When it does, you snatch it up and hastily exit the bathroom. "It wasn't Straussler," you snap at Keith when you're downstairs, "but he'll do. Come on, let's get out of here."

"Aren't we going to tell anyone we're going?"

You roll your eyes. "Fine. Go tell what's her name it was a great party. I'll be out in the truck."

* * * * *

To your immense chagrin, Gordon Black is the only occupant at the fuck room. Well, it could have been worse, considering you didn't call ahead. If you'd busted in on him with Chelsea-- "Where's Patterson?"

"Not here," he says brusquely, and looks back down at his work. He's got a mask in his lap, and you recognize that he is painting its inside with sealant. "Get out."

"Sure, I don't wanna be here anyway." You don't feel inclined to take any shit from him. "I just came by to drop off the latest mask." You toss it at him, and it clatters by his feet.

He peers down at it with a frown. "Who the fuck is Franz Felix All-- Allo--" He struggles to read the name on the inside of the mask, then gives up and glares at you. "Who the fuck?"

"It's one of their basketball guys, like Patterson wanted." You snap your fingers as a name pops up. "Joe something or other. One of those new guys."

"Ain't no 'Joe' here," Gordon rumbles, nudging the mask with his knee. His expression hardens. "You fuck up? You and Javits are both dumb enough."

"I got a look at him," you say, your own voice turning hard. "Had a lot of time to look at him, too. I know who it was. And if you can't read a fucking name inside a fucking mask--"

Gordon gets slowly to his feet, and straightens until he towers over you. But you put your hands on your hips and return his belligerent stare with one of your own.

Your eyes remain locked until your own begin to water. But he blinks first, though in a way that doesn't acknowledge defeat. "I'm sick of dealing with this shit," he says quietly. "You can finish up. I'm gonna go find Chelsea."

"I'll do a better job than you anyway," you retort. "The fucking book belonged to me first anyway." He brushes hard against you as he passes, but there is no more to it than that. He slams the door, though.

You swear sulfurous oaths, then grab up one of the masks from the floor. It's the one he was sealing up: CASSANDRA SUSAN HARPER, it says on its inner surface. Cassie Harper, huh? Patterson and Gordon must be so drunk on these things they've stopped making distinctions. Oh, Cassie is cute enough in that freckled way, but she's no natural beauty, and is a scatterbrained chatterbox.

As for the other mask: FRANZ FELIX ALOIS LIEBESSPRUCH. You frown and blink. So, Gordon wasn't shitting you about the name. "Joe" must be a nickname, and you don't blame your victim for taking one. But "Liebesspruch"? That doesn't sound right. Even if you couldn't remember an eye-splitting name like that, "Joe Liebesspruch" just doesn't seem like a name one could forget the general sound of.

You drop onto the mat with a sigh, to finish up Gordon's work. He's just started on Cassie's mask, but sealing a mask takes little time, and you seal up the other mask too. As you do so, of course, you can't help staring at that goofball name. It's not just an unusual name, but the lettering looks odd, too. You compare it to Cassie's mask. Her name is written in the simple, Roman strokes that you've seen in all the other masks, but the lettering in the other mask is slightly different, with more strokes and curlicues. Maybe it's the "Franz" and "Liebesspruch" that make you think the lettering looks faintly Germanic.

You blow the sealant dry, and continue to regard the mask curiously. Getting this mask was one of your assignments, which means that under the team rules you have a perfect right to try it on. It's a small mystery, what's going on with his name, and probably has a trivial answer, but you can settle it very easily by donning his form briefly.

Next: "New Boss, Same as the Old BossOpen in new Window.


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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/955624