His Many Masks *The Boy fan fiction*

Chapter Four

"We understand how dangerous a mask can be, we all become what we pretend to be."
- Unknown

Have you ever experienced the complete silence after you emerge completely in water? That dead dull sound of nothing?

In that moment, that was all I heard.

"Brahms?" I called again.

The footsteps slowly came back and a tall dark figure soon appeared in the doorway. My breath hitched as I saw his eyes. They were a dark shade, almost completely black. His shoulders were scrunched, and his fists were in clenches at his side.

"That's your name. Isn't it?" I asked, praying I didn't make him angry.

The man didn't speak nor move. Based on his lifeless like stance, I knew it was.

I shifted awkwardly on the bed. I didn't think he'd answer to Brahms, so I had no idea what to do at that point. I felt defeated. I couldn't leave, and even if I wanted to, there was no where to go. I was stuck.

Brahms stayed still in the doorway, his eyes were still on me as if I'd disappear if he blinked. I couldn't trust him, his social skills were not there, and he was very introverted. Getting answers from him was impossible.

Nothing in this large house made sense. Where were his parents? If this is his house, why is he dressed so poorly? Why is he wearing that terrifying mask? How was he stabbed? Who was that woman running away from the house when I first arrived at the gate?

Brahms shifted his stance which caused me to break my daze and focus on him. All of those questions needed answers before I could feel comfortable enough to be around him. I needed to know more about this situation. I hated being vulnerable and ignorant.

"Brahms. May I ask you a question?"

Brahms, who hadn't stopped staring at me nodded his head.

"Are you going to hurt me?" Call me cliche if you will, but I wanted to make sure I could at least trust him with my life while I was stuck in the house.

Brahms blinked a few times, "why would I do that?" He asked making me feel foolish for asking such a question.

I looked down, Brahms hadn't been violent to me once, I just found it hard to trust him, and rightfully so. I remembered seeing the woman who was frantically trying to get away from the house before I entered through the gate.

"I saw a woman at the gate who was running away from the house. She looked terrified." I wanted to slap my own head for blurting out a question that could've been so personal.

Brahms stiffened at the mention of the woman. He acted as if he had just seen a ghost.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." I said putting a hand up to my mouth. The last thing I needed to do was piss him off. With a broken ankle, I had no upper hand. If he snapped, I was an easy target.

"She was someone who I thought I could trust." He said in a low, strained tone. His fists were still clenched tightly at his side. It made me uneasy hearing the anger seeping out of his voice.

"I'm sorry." I said. "I can't imagine how hard it is to trust someone and be betrayed by them." I did, but I didn't feel like getting personal with a complete stranger who may or may not be dangerous.

Brahms visibly relaxed a bit at my words.

I felt guilty sympathizing with him when I didn't know the whole story, but it was the easiest way to keep myself safe. When I looked at him, I saw a small piece of myself. Lost. Alone. Scared. I couldn't be quick to judge him when I had a questionable past.