The Mask He Wore: Finale (complete)

I was wed to an up and coming vinter, a man with expectations and plans for how his future was to be rolled out. Gregory Prowd was handsome and charming, he moved easily through life, especially once he got money to throw around. He wanted a home fit for entertaining, a place where his wine could be sold by his beautiful wife and charming friends.

Gregory chose me for my looks, which is nothing new. Men these days choose wives for their beauty everyday. My husband, on the other hand, chose me because I fit the exact specifications he needed. My hands, he said, were perfect. He wanted someone with beautiful and elegant hands to show off his wine. Whether it was by holding the glasses or by pouring the wine.

We eloped, which I suppose was all part of his game. Gregory made sure I was enamored and it worked better for him considering I had no interest in the man my parents chose for me. He took me far away for our honeymoon, lavished with me with gifts and attention and told me tales of all he wanted for his vineyard. He had no family, his mother and younger brother died during childbirth, and his father passed away some years ago. He told me he wanted a big family since he missed his own, and I grew excited to start it.

When we returned, things changed. Gregory’s attention was turned back to his business. Until things picked up, the dream we shared of a big family was put aside. “It won’t take long,” he promised me sweetly. “Once we are able to sell our first batch, we’ll be able to live out that dream. It was not all talk from me.”

“I find it hard to believe you,” I told him bluntly. “You fill my head with dreams and once we come home, I wake up to labor.”

“Work is all we have right now. With work comes money, dearest.” Gregory took my hand back and smiled lovingly at me. “No one said you had to stop dreaming.”

I sighed and clutched his hand in return. “Fine. I’ll dream then.”

His home had three stories and a basement, which seemed normal. The only thing was that I was not allowed on the third floor. The only person who could go up there was Gregory himself. He kept all the rooms locked up with a key he kept with himself at all times.

At night Gregory would go upstairs and I would hear things through the floor. Sometimes, it sounded like he was wrestling with something, a wild animal or something big. It always frightened me, but Gregory would get angry and dedefensive if I brought it up. Since he assigned one of his staff to watch me at all times, I could never sneak upstairs to see what was going on.

I eventually grew numb to it, I learned to bury things down, to hold my concern and play the part. I told myself this was a dollhouse and I was one of the dolls in it. Gregory would pull me out when he needed me, and we would play. Once the winery took off, we played together more and more. I began to believe in my dream again. The work really did turn into money, and everyday I hoped the dream would become real.

Unfortunately, it turned sour very quickly.

“Please,” Gregory begged as he banged on my door. “Let me in this second, Blythe! Let me in!”

I was sobbing on the bed, having thrown open the windows to let in the freezing cold. I wanted to die. I wanted it all to end. The dream was dead. The big family we longed for was never to be. The doctor’s cold words from the epitaph on its grave.

The door busted open and Gregory ran inside, shutting the windows before turning to me. He looked at me strangely, it didn’t feel like concern to me. It felt like judgment, it felt like contempt. He sat beside me as I wailed, in agony I could not measure.

“Stop crying, Blythe,” he told me. “I can’t bear to hear it.”

Despite the chill that radiated off of him, I held Gregory in my arms, sobbing into his chest to silence my wails. He held me in return, but there was no warmth to it. After that night, a distance grew between us. Though he stood close beside me, he might as well have been a million miles away. I wanted to reach out and bring him back, but my arms were not long enough.

Behind his back I took out all my frustration by sleeping with the people he wanted to do business with. Perhaps it was my promiscuity that helped the vineyard and the winery grow. I didn’t think about it. Since our family could not grow, Gregory focused all he had into the vineyard. He focused on selling his wine, on making it grander and more delicious. The grapes became his children, the vines he filled with his blood.

I took these buyers into the basement and let them fuck me however they wanted. Sometimes I lured away their wives and made it so their knees buckled when they tried to walk. It was the little control I had over my life, and whether Gregory knew or not, we never talked about it. We never talked at all beyond the veil that had grown between us.

One night he came into my room. He sat upon the bed beside me and looked at me through that invisible veil. “I have to go away for a while.”

That was good. “You never leave,” I said.

He shrugged and that was the end of the discussion. He left, going wherever it was he was going, leaving me alone for the first time since we met. I was going up the stairs to take a nap when a repressed memory returned to me. All these years, I had ignored that the stairs continued to the third floor. I had forgotten about the third floor entirely. I looked up these stairs, remembering the sounds I heard from the floorboards above my bed. I glanced back down, seeing a maid scurry away to the kitchen. No one was around me.

I turned to face up the final flight of stairs. I could see the landing above and the tops of door frames. I licked my lips then heard someone ascending the stairs behind me. I quickly turned away, aiming myself as if I was going towards my room.

“Lady Blythe,” she called to me. “I’m sorry to be a bother, but would you like me to change your sheets for you?”

I intended to turn her away, but I shut my mouth and lowered my hand. “Actually, do you mind going to my husband’s room and seeing if he left his keys behind? Since he’s gone, you should probably change his sheets as well.”

The young woman smiled. “His keys? Sure. I’ll bring them to you if they are there.” She hurried along and I went back into my room. I laid upon the bed and rested my arm over my eyes so it was dark. As I waited for the maid, I heard a thudding above me. I opened my eyes and looked up to the ceiling. I heard a thud again, then a sound like someone was knocking upon the floorboards.

There was a knock upon my door that turned my attention. I stood up from bed, shaking my head as I went. The maid was at the door and presented me with Gregory’s set of keys.

“Thank you,” I murmured as I looked each key over. “Where was it laying?”

“The bedside table, Lady Blythe,” she said cheerily. “I’ll go and change his sheets now like you asked.”

I turned back into my room, shutting the door then pulling out the set of keys I had. I compared each one, finding we both had a matching set. Then, I found it. There was a key I didn’t have, a big iron one with three tooth-like prongs at the bottom. It must have been the key for the third floor.

Once the little maid took the dirty sheets downstairs, I snuck out of my room. By then it was beginning to dim outside, I’d be called for dinner soon so I would need to make this trip quick. I went slowly up the stairs, taking my time so I could listen and prepare myself.

I stood there at the top of the stairs. It was dark up here. All the windows were covered by thick curtains, and all the doors were shut. There was a narrow hallway with a door at the end. This room would also be right over mine, and possibly the place those sounds came from.

The key matched the iron doorknob and lock. What could Gregory have been keeping up here? All these years we had been together and I had never been allowed up on the third floor. Who knows how much longer before he’d kept this place off limits.

I put the key in the lock and turned it. The door opened with a click and I pushed it. I stepped inside the room which felt cold and bare. The floors were rough and the windows were boarded up. The fireplace, too, was covered. There was bedding smashed and molding into one of the corners like a nest. Bones were scattered around the floor and there were claw marks in the walls. I stood there in the entrance, I saw so much there, and yet, nothing at all. There was a closet to my right, the door was gone and, from the corner of my eye, I saw something move inside.

I went towards it and, the closer I got, I could see a figure balled up inside. I stood there at the closet entrance then knelt down to get to their level. It appeared I was not the only one my husband was keeping locked away inside his dollhouse.

“Who are you?” I asked.

The person inside shifted, covering their head with their hands which looked remarkably pale.

“Won’t you come out?” I beckoned gently.

The person sniveled and shivered, I could hear them begin to weep. “I won’t hurt you. Did Gregory do this to you?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” a small but masculine voice cried. “He will hurt you too.”

I tilted my head to the side. “It’s too late for that. Come out, who are you?”

“No. It’s not safe,” he whined again. “Gregory will find us.”

“Gregory is gone,” I insisted. “He went away, I don’t know when he will be back.” I held my hand out. “Come out. I promise, it’s safe.”

The man inside shifted. His head was covered by a pillowcase then tied off at his neck by a piece of rope. “Gregory’s gone?”

I nodded. “I’m not sure why. Business probably. But he left not too long ago.”

The man crawled out on his hands and knees. His clothes hung off him like rags. The knees of his pants were worn away to nothing, and there was the stale yet pungent odor coming from him. I backed away, letting him have more room to come out.

“You-” he whimpered. “You’re his wife!”

“Yes,” I conceded regretfully. “My name is Blythe.”

“Blythe,” he whispered. He slowly rose from the ground. He was quite tall, but his form was sadly diminished. His hands were covered by leather bags, but the skin that showed through his threadbare clothes was ghostly pale.

“Who are you?” I asked gently. “Why are you being kept like this?”

His hands tremored. “I am-” He started to choke up. “I should not be talking to you!” He placed his covered hands over his hidden face. “You could get hurt.”

“I don’t care,” I coaxed. “I want to know who you are and why Gregory would keep you in such conditions!”

He took a long breath. “My name is Edmund.”

I furrowed my brow. Gregory had told me his younger brother was named Edmund, but only after he passed away. “Edmund Prowd?”

He nodded shakily. “Yes.”

“I was told you died.” I sat down before him. Gregory had told me little about his family. He was young when his mother passed away, giving birth to a younger brother who would have been named Edmund had he survived.

Edmund bowed his head. “I was supposed to.”

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This was abhorrent and cruel! What good was it that he kept his little brother locked away like this? Was he worried about his inheritance? Was he just sick? All these years I had ignored and made myself numb to the third floor. I was disgusted with myself for not paying heed.

“I’m so sorry, Edmund. Had I known...had I just done something earlier, I could have saved you!” I began to cry. “I promise you, I will make this right!” I took hold of his covered hand and squeezed it tight. “Come with me, let me take care of you.”

“No!” Edmund pulled his hand away and threw himself at the wall. “If Gregory ever finds out-”

“I will deal with Gregory!” I snapped. “Come here, let me remove that hood. Let me see you.”

Edmund instinctively protected the rope around his neck. “Please. No.” He shook his head. “You’re so beautiful. You shouldn’t see what’s there.”

Was that the reason he was kept locked away? A deformity. My heart overflowed for this poor young man. “I won’t touch it if it makes you feel safe,” I said gently. “But please, tell me what I can do to help you. Something to eat? A bath? Warm clothes. I can do anything for you.”

I managed to coax him out of the room with me. I took him to my room, having him wait there while I called up hot water for a bath and extra food with my supper. Once the bath was filled I took him to the bathroom. I removed the ropes from around his wrists, but he wouldn’t remove the leather bags until I looked away.

“Please, don’t look.”

I smiled then sat at the other end of the room with my back turned. “Go ahead, get washed up and clean. If you need anything, just ask.”

“You’re so kind.” His voice shuddered. “I can’t remember the last time I had a bath like this.”

I smiled to myself, feeling a warmth grow inside me that had died the same night withh my dream. “It’s the least I can do for you, Edmund. And once Gregory comes back, I will have words with him about your treatment. I don’t care what he says. You deserve better than that room.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. Gregory gets so angry.” Edmund splashed in the water, washing himself slowly.

I breathed out and clicked my tongue. “So can I.”

Once he was done with his bath, I gave him some of Gregory’s clothes, they fit well enough, but he was so thin they hung from him, and he was so tall, the legs and arms were a bit short. Once we were back in my room, I gave him a red scarf of mine to cover his head, as well as a pair of gloves.

“That should be much nicer than before.” I blew out most of the candles and covered the windows. My room was dark so Edmund could eat in peace.

“How long has he kept you up there?” I asked him.

I could hear him eating, he took slow bites as he tried to figure out the food. “He wasn’t the only one. Our father was the one who put me in that room.”

I frowned. “Your father too? So you have been up there since you were a child?”

Edmund was silent for a moment. “He locked me and my mother in there together after I was born.”

I sunk back in horror. “Oh my god...what reason could there have been for that?”

“If you saw me, you would understand.”

I frowned deeply and felt tears flow down my cheeks. “No more,” I whispered. “No more! I will take care of you from here on out. No one is going to hurt you again, Edmund. I will make sure you get what you deserve.”

“I don’t know anything else,” he spoke slowly. “You don’t have to put yourself in danger to help me.”

I stood up and went around the table to him. I closed my eyes and wrapped him up in a tight embrace. I heard him sobbing as my arm locked around him. His hands grabbed my arm and he leaned his head into my chest.

“I’ll take care of you, Edmund. From now on, I will be your protector.”

There was a soft whimper from the shadows. “You remind me of her.”

“Of your mother?” I asked.

Edmund sniffled. “Yes. She protected me, she kept me safe and warm. She taught me all she could be-” His voice choked off. “Before he got his way.”

I thought he meant their father. “Who?”

“No,” Edmund shivered. “It’s not-” he went silent, and I didn’t want to push the issue.

While Gregory was away, I took it upon myself to help Edmund as much as I could. I let him eat what he wanted, and he started to fill out bit by bit. I talked to him, read with him, and I found he did have something of an education. He was reluctant to talk about himself, but was curious to know everything about me.

I told him of my life here, of the vineyard and of the role I was set to play. I told him of my anger and frustration, and alluded to what I did behind Gregory’s back. I laid with Edmund in bed sometimes, my head upon his chest and my arms around him. He was so desperate for affection, and I was happy to give it because so was I.

“Edmund,” I whispered one evening. “If I make it dark so I can’t see a thing, will you kiss me?”

Edmund held his breath in his chest.

“Touch me?” I mewled.

“Blythe, I shouldn’t,” he finally exhaled. “But I-”

I smiled softly. “You want to. I need you too. I care about you and you have made my lonely days here feel so full. I want to reward you, to spoil you.”

“Yes,” his chest shuddered. “I want to kiss you so badly, Blythe. You’re so kind and sweet to me. And you’re so beautiful.”

“Stay here,” I whispered. “I’ll be right back.” I rose from the bed and closed the canopy around him. I shuttered the windows, locked my door, and blew out every candle. I stripped out of my dress until all I wore was the slip. I crawled back into bed and reached out. Edmund’s hands found mine.

“You’re so warm,” I cooed.

“I’m nervous.”

I chuckled and moved in closer. I found his lips in the shadows. I kissed him softly, feeling him tentatively respond. I placed my hand upon his thigh and his hand touched my face. His kiss grew harder, but so did mine. I guided his hand, making it press against my breast. His moan against my lips made my body ache.

“Blythe, it’s so soft.”

I giggled as his fingers tightened. “You can touch whatever you want. I want you to.” I kissed him, going down his jaw to his neck.

“That feels so good,” his voice cracked.

My hand smoothed down his body then I pulled back. He was breathing deeply and his body felt tense. “Do you mind if I take off your clothes?”

Edmund swallowed and his body trembled more. “Blythe, we shouldn’t. You’re married. You don’t have to do this.”

“But I don’t love him. Edmund, I’m falling in love with you. I want you.” I kissed him again, wrapping my arms around him as I sat upon his lap. “I don’t care what you look like. I know who you are.”

“I love you too,” Edmund stroked my face and ran his fingers through my hair. “But I don’t think you understand.”

I kissed him to silence him and I pushed him down upon the bed. I took off his pants and found him rigid and warm inside. His shaft was pulsing and when I took him inside me, I had never felt so full. His loud moans echoed through my mind, urging me to move faster and harder. I had never made love before and it overwhelmed my body. I was taken deeply by Edmund’s touch and voice. I was pulled under and happily drowned in those emotions.

I woke in the morning as light shone through a crack in the canopy. I peered at Edmund’s naked body beside mine. He was weak, but he was growing stronger. I placed my hand upon him, feeling him breathe. I looked up at long dark hair that spilled over the pillows. His face was beautiful, his skin was so unnaturallyunnaturally pale and white, but his features were beautiful. I smiled and sat up, kissing him lovingly.

His eyes opened, revealing a color as bright and blue as the noon sky. He looked at me, frightened but then he began to smile.

“Good morning, my love,” I whispered.

“Good morning,” his pink lips spread. “My love.”

I kissed him again, moving on top of his body. The curtain was then thrust open and Gregory stood there with a wild look to his eyes.

“You sick-” He recoiled in disgust. His face then contorted in anger and he grabbed me. He pulled me by my hair and forced me off the bed. He then kicked me, calling me names as he did so. Edmund lunged off the bed and tried to force Gregory off me. Gregory hit him and threw him out the door. He gave chase, knocking him to the ground.

“I should have done this years ago!” He sat upon Edmund’s chest and began choking him. “After what you did to our mother!” he beat the back of Edmund’s head into the floor.

“No! Stop it! Stop it!” I went to Gregory and tried to pry him off, but he threw back an arm and knocked me to the ground.

“You’re evil! Sick! You’re a monster!” Gregory was crying while Edmund aidlaid there still upon the floor. I feared he was already dead.

I took the dinner knife from the table and, without a second thought, I drove it into Gregory’s back over and over and over. He fought at first, but Edmund regained himself and kept him down while I continued to thrust the blade into his body. Gregory looked up at me, his eyes filled with fear and betrayal.

My hand hovered above him, ready to strike, but the look in his his eyes. The veil was gone, the distance closed. Somehow, I felt love again.

“Blythe, my love,” Edmund whispered, although his lips didn’t move. “Finish it, now!”

Tears fell down Gregory’s cheeks. “Blythe-” His voice choked.

Edmund pushed me aside and he laid his hands around Gregory’s throat. I dropped the knife and turned away, cowering in the corner while I heard the breath being choked from Gregory’s body.

Once silence came back to the room, I felt Edmund’s arms wrap around me. I looked up at him with tears running down my face.

“Hurry,” Edmund whispered, but I didn’t see his lips move. “We have to hide him.”

We carried the body upstairs, taking it to Edmund’s room. We left the body there and I spilled wine onto the carpet to hide the blood. It had been so early that the staff hadn’t even noticed Gregory’s arrival.

Edmund took up Gregory’s room, and over the next few days, I concocted a story, saying Gregory had come home and grew extremely ill from his travels. I took care of him, giving Edmund plenty of time to begin to take over.

Gregory’s sickness truly changed him, it made him a new man. Which, yes, he was. Edmund took over the role of my husband easily. The illness, we claimed, had scarred Gregory’s face and hands, hence the need to be covered. It was shocking how willing they were to believe this.

One evening though, I woke from a deep sleep. I heard noises upstairs right above my bed that I had not heard in so long. When I reached out for Edmund, he was gone. I put on a robe and went upstairs. I heard sounds coming from Edmund’s old room. They sounded wet and angry.

I went into the room where I saw Edmund kneeling over Gregory’s corpse. He was bent backwards above the corpse. His arms bent oddly as his hands brought flesh up to the back of his head.

I fell to my knees as I watched. Edmund looked up and I saw a grotesque face peering out from the back of his head. Dark eyes bore into mine, sharp teeth in a managed mouth pulled into a vicious grin.

“Did I wake you, darling?” It laughed.

I took slow quivering breaths. “You did,” I answered hypnotically.

He crawled over towards me, that face looking right at me. “I am sorry.” Blood splattered from his lips. “Come now, go back to bed. I’ll clean up here.” The warped and snarling little voice that came from those lips sounded nothing like Edmund.

Tears spilled down my cheeks. “Who are you?” I whimpered.

“I’m your Edmund.” His hand touched my cheek, smearing blood as he wiped away my tears. “Don’t you know me?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Be good for me and go back to bed, my love.” He patted my cheek.

I nodded. “Will you be joining me soon?”

“Of course. Once I’m done here, I’ll be back by your side. Now go. I don’t want you to see any of this.” That second face kissed me and I rose to go back to bed.

Not long after, a drought began that ruined our vineyard. For years we were unable to grow and we lost all our money. Edmund’s appetite grew, feeding on the misery that came to our home. Robbers would break into our home, and he would feed upon them. Two of the robbers had tried to touch me, and Edmund hung them over the railing to die. Leaving their bodies there as a warning.

I grew sick and Edmund did his best to care for me. One day I smiled at him, touching his beautiful face. “I’m glad I found you.”

“No.” He clutched my hand. “Please. Don’t say that.”

“I wish I could have done more.” My fingers slipped around the back of his head, feeling the face there. “Don’t feel too alone.”

“No.” Edmund grabbed hold of me. “Blythe! No! Please! I need you, please!”

I faded, but I did not leave his side. For years I lingered in our home, unable to make him see me there. He stayed hidden away, locked in his old room. He never saw me. Then, one day, he lit a candle and he saw me again. The light from the flames illuminated my figure and those blue eyes widened as he saw my ghostly visage.

I smiled at him, so relieved he could finally see me. All these years waiting, and now, he knew I had never left his side.

“I’ll bring you back,” he whispered. “I’ll bring you back.” He broke into a grin. “I’ll start the vineyard back up, for us!”