A part of me hates being here. Being in front of 50,000 people as they watch my body tremble, wretch, and sob. The few times I've managed to not vomit on stage were the good days. Most times that black oil comes rushing from my stomach and shimmers in the smoke and lights of whatever venue I'm at. The other men who were "turned" don't seem to struggle as much, which I suppose is nice. I suppose in being the First Vessel chosen I bear the brunt of the Mask's pain and power.
DU LIEST GERADE
Thirty Five
FanfictionCorey is a young man stuck in a cycle of monotony. That is, until he comes across a mask in the trash in the local subway station.
