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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Fifth Column"  by Masktrix It’s time to replace Chris. You’re equal partners in this with Abi, and you don’t need her permission to do what the two of you are planning to do anyway. "First batch from Todd," you tell Chris as you drop the three masks with a clatter onto your desk. He looks up from his sketchbook. "This is crazy, you know?" "Absolutely," he agrees, and lays the sketchbook aside. He is pale as he stares at the masks. "It’s the color that creeps me out," he says after a lengthy pause, during which you double-check that the mind band you were working on earlier is finished and ready for use. "They're white when you make them, but then they turn blue when you polish them. It's like you can see them turning magical." He chews his lip. "You know that mask you found under my pillow? When I saw you with it, it freaked me out so hard I almost puked." "What was it like for you, first time you found out about this stuff?" You brush some glue into a mask, and press the mind band into it. "Horrible!" Chris laughs hollowly. "Prescott was disguised as Abi. Vee and Kristen had just got back from town, and they told me and Todd this crazy story about magic disguises and doppelgangers. But we went along with it. So Todd grabbed Prescott — Abi," he corrects himself, "and Vee pulled her face off. And suddenly she was this guy! Fuck." He rubs his eyes. "And to think I tongued him that morning! Pervert deserves the worst," he mutters. You ignore the curse. Vee and Kristen had just come back from town. Is that what Chris just said? How the hell does he know that Kristen was masquerading as Abi? That was supposed to be her and Vee's secret. "I thought Kristen stayed in town," you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. Chris hesitates. “I don’t know," he says. "I guess she did. You don't know how confusing this shell game can get. I can barely keep track.” His answer only raises more questions. Keep track of what? Isn't everybody supposed to be who they seem to be? "I know what you mean," you say aloud. "Good thing we won’t have to worry about it soon." Chris snickers, but there's a quaver in his laugh. "Except it's going to get worse, you know. We're all gonna be different people, whoever we want to be. I was thinking of asking to be Marius. That’d be sweet." "I think the answer to that question would have to be no." You lean over and slam the mask into his face. *** You lock the door, and with a racing heart wait for the mask to copy Chris. When it comes out of him, you quickly lacquer it with golem paste, then set it back onto his face. It vanishes into him, and he opens his eyes. They are filled with surprise and horror, but you are quick to explain to him that he now has to do everything you tell him. With glum resignation, he nods. Then, under your patient questioning, Chris Fiore 2.0 explains everything to you. *** When he finishes, you hurry to the girls' wing, and knock on Abi’s door. There’s a hasty flurry of sound on the other side before it opens a crack. Abi is wearing only her night dress, with a sweater pulled on over the top, and her usually immaculate brown locks are disordered and streaked with sweat. But she opens the door wide and steps back when she sees it's you. "Hey, Boss," she says, a dopey smile smearing her face. Her pupils are dilated. "I just got this weird text from your ginger girlfriend, and she—" "Never mind that." You push her into the room and close the door behind you. "We’ve got a problem. And… fuck, are you high?" "I’m a fucking angel," she sighs. "I’m heavenly. I am seraphim." She plucks her cell up off her desk. "But!" she tries to place a finger on your lips, and ends up just swatting you. "Shush! Shuuuush. Shush. Shelly, she—" "I know," you say, slapping her hand away. "She bombards everyone with emojis and Harry Potter gifs." "No, no, no." She drapes herself across you. "Ooh, this is nice. Hmm." She reaches down to touch your groin. "This wasn’t emojis, it was—" "Never mind!" You thrust her hands away. "We’ve got to move now. Abi’s going to fuck me over. She’s been planning it from the start." "Well, of course she has." Abi falls back onto her bed with a dreamy smile. "If I were me, if you weren’t the Boss, I’d tug on your heart strings – or tug on your cock, whichever works best – and get you to do exactly what I want. Then, when you’re no use to me, I’d kick you to the curb. His be the labor and yours be the spoil." "What?" The cadence of the last phrase sounds eerily familiar. She splays her legs and stretches her thigh muscles. "My favorite poem. It’s called ‘The Winners’. Rudyard Kipling. 'His be the labor and yours be the spoil/ Win by aid and the aid disown/ He travels the fastest who travels alone.'" Fuck. Abi told you she was betraying you two days ago, and figured – rightly – you were too dumb to get the reference. She’s been mocking you the whole time! "Fuck poetry," you spit, annoyed by your own blind stupidity. "I just turned Chris into a golem, and he spilled her whole plan. Abi didn’t find Kristen on Saturday. She found Chris, and he's the one that tricked Kristen out of his girlfriend's mask. He’s been working with her the whole time! He's been helping her look for the Libra, looking for the masks, helping her think about who she and him are gonna turn themselves into after getting rid of me and the others." You punch yourself in the temples with your fists. "The only thing she didn't tell him was that she brought me back with her, put me in for Mark." It's the only consolation you have: She was playing a double game against both of you. "So what’s the plan?" Abi lolls on her bed. You glower at her. "Put the pills away and sober up. Set your cell on vibrate, and wait for my text. We're going to take the others down — tonight!" *** Just past midnight you return to Abi's room, where you remove her mask long enough to press a freshly made mind band into the forehead of the unconscious Vee Macklin. Then, after replacing the mask, you pull Abi out into the dark hall, and bid her knock softly on Vee Macklin’s door. Behind her stand you and Chris Fiore. The moment the door opens, the three of you rush in. No one has to tell the girl in the Vee Macklin mask what you have planned. She kicks and yells before you muffle her, and Chris holds her from behind as you pull at her face. There are noises from the other side of her wall, and you send Abigail Steiner, prefect, out into the hall to keep off any snoopers. A few minutes later, having added Vee Macklin's mind band and some golem paste to it, you return Vee's mask to Abigail Steiner's face. The resurrected Vee sits up with a scowl. "The fuck?" she murmurs, but her voice dies in her throat as you step up to her. Of course she's confused. She now has Vee's memories, the last of which is of talking to you in the Catacombs. She also senses that you are in every sense of the word her master. But you ignore her confusion and obvious discomfort, and step up to seize her by the bony chin and tilt her head from side to side, studying it. "What are you doing?" she mumbles. "Trying to see what I was so afraid of," you reply. She’s now yours to do with as you wish – both the brain and body of the girl who masterminded your capture, who tied you up and starved and sickened you. At the same time, she is also the girl who falsely promised to help you, and who was laughing behind your back the whole time. But both are now powerless. Both are now your playthings. You shove her backward onto her bed. *** Tuesday afternoon. The free hour just before dinner. You and your four lieutenants stand in a loose circle in the Catacombs, all still in your gear from the day's compulsory sports programs. Abi, looking sexy and serene in her tennis togs. Vee looking resentful in her soccer uniform. Chris, also in a soccer uniform, looks resigned. And Todd Baldwin — the last of your recruits, caught in his room just before dawn began to creep over the horizon — sullenly hunches inside his football gear. You worked all night on the mind bands you needed to copy and control them, and stumbled like a zombie through the ensuing day, so you ordered your new golems go about their ordinary routines as though they were themselves. But now, at the end of the day — at the end of the adventure — it's time to lay plans. Your intention had been to retrieve the Libra and get out of St. Xavier’s. You could still do that. You could exit the school and leave these golems behind. Or, after making a careful move from Mark Pederson into a hiding place back in town, you could release your slaves and leave them with the admonition not to come looking for you. But isn't the St Francis Xavier School a perfect base of operations? You control two prefects, possess the Libra, and have access to plenty of supplies—not to mention the money to acquire whatever supplies you can't steal out of the school. There is nothing to stop you from resuming your research into the book, amid plenty of plump, inviting targets for further replacement and exploitation. That's all for now. |
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