Chapter Text
The world had a different rhythm in the 90s- grunge was blared by cassette players, gas was cheap, and internet cafes were a novelty. But that night, the eerie stillness in the air was unlike anything you’d ever felt.
You had been walking home from your friend’s house after a late-night movie marathon. The streets of your small Iowa town were quiet, only the distant hum of a car engine occasionally breaking the silence. You quickened your pace, the uneasy feeling creeping up your spine. Something was off, but you couldn’t quite place it.
As you rounded the corner, you caught a glimpse of an old, beat-up van parked on the curb. It hadn’t been there earlier. The windows were blacked out, and even though your instincts screamed at you to walk the other way, you pressed forward, hoping it was just someone visiting a neighbor.
That’s when it happened.
Before you could react, strong arms grabbed you from behind. A burlap sack was thrown over your head, your muffled screams lost in the fabric. Panic surged through you as you kicked and thrashed, but it was no use. Whoever had you was stronger there was more than one.
You felt yourself being lifted, and then the sensation of being thrown into the back of the van. The doors slammed shut, and the van roared to life, tearing down the street with you helpless inside.
Everything was a blur after that. Hours passed, maybe days. The sack over your head had been removed, but you were kept in darkness. The cold, damp air suggested you were in some kind of basement or warehouse, the scent of mildew and oil clinging to your clothes.
You’d lost track of time when the door finally creaked open. Footsteps echoed on the concrete floor, and the fluorescent light flickered on, revealing eight figures standing in the doorway, each one wearing a mask.
You blinked against the harsh light, heart pounding in your chest as you took in your captors. They stood still, watching you, their presence suffocating.
“Who are you?” You asked, your voice shaky. The one closest to you-a tall man wearing a grotesque clown mask- stepped forward, the sound of his heavy boots reverberating in the room. He tilted his head slightly, examining you like a specimen. “We’re going to be your worst nightmare,” he growled, his voice deep and guttural. But there was something else in his tone-something that suggested this was all a game to him.
Another figure stepped forward, this one wearing a mask with long spikes protruding from it. “Shawn, stop scaring them,” he said, his voice surprisingly calm.
The clown-masked man-Shawn, you now knew out a low chuckle and backed off. The spiked-mask man knelt beside you, his hands resting on his knees as he looked at you. You couldn’t see his eyes, but there was something familiar about the way he moved. “We’re not here to hurt you,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Not unless you make us.”
Your heart raced as you looked from one masked figure to the next. There was the one who had spoken-his name still a mystery-and then there were others: a tall hulking man in a mask that looked like it was made of human skin, a wiry guy with a gas mask, and a figure whose face looked like a mesh of leather and wire.
“What do you want?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “Company,” the calm one replied. “We’re not really… social, you could say. But we figured it’s a time to have a guest.” A figure with a mask that resembled a jester’s face twisted into a cruel smile crossed his arms. “More like a hostage, Craig,” he muttered.
Craig-the spiked mask figure-shook his head. “Not a hostage. They’re… our guest. Right?” His voice softened as he turned back to you. “You’re going to stay with us for a while.” Fear prickled at your skin as you realized what was happening. They weren’t going to let you go. Not anytime soon.
You sat there, stunned, trying to make sense of what had just been said. “Stay with us?” Your voice cracked a mix of fear and disbelief. There was no way this was real-it couldn’t be.
The man wearing the clown mask- his heavy boots made the floor vibrate with each step-broke the silence. He seemed to be the one in charge, looming over the others with a sense of authority. His mask was chipped, the red and white paint faded, and his voice, gravelly and low, sent chills down your spine. This was Shawn.
“We’re not asking,” Shawn growled, his dark eyes hidden behind the cracked eyeholes. “We’re telling you. You’re staying with us.” The words hung in the air, thick with menace. Before you could protest, a figure with a metal-looking mask-its cold, silver sheen catching in the dim light-shifted closer to you. He was silent, towering over the others, his presence almost suffocating. He didn’t speak, but the way he crossed his arms said enough. You weren’t going anywhere.
“Don’t look so scared,” the one with the jester mask-brightly colored and grotesquely distorted-said with a sneer. While his voice was lighter than Shawn’s, something was mocking about his tone. “You might even enjoy it. Who knows?” You swallowed hard, glancing from one masked figure to the next. The room felt smaller now, their imposing figures making it impossible to think clearly. The one with the pig mask-it’s plastic snout dirty and scarred-stepped closer. His massive frame blocked the light, casting long shadows over you as he crouched down, inspecting you like you were some kind of animal caught in a trap (let's be honest, you were).
“Doesn’t look like much,” the pig-masked man muttered, his voice thick and slow like he wasn’t in any rush to speak. “But they’ll do.” Suddenly, a sharp laugh echoed from the back of the room. The sound came from the one with the long-nose mask- bizarre and exaggerated like something from a twisted carnival. He tilted his head, the oversized nose of his mask making the gesture even more unsettling.
“You think they’ll make it? “ he asked, his laughter cutting through the tension. “I give it a week before they crack.”
“No one asked you, Chris,” came a cold toner from the corner. The man wearing spiked mask-sharp metal rods jutting from the surface like some medieval torture device stood motionless, his presence eerie and silent. You couldn’t even see his eyes, but you felt his gaze burning through you, piercing through the metal spikes.
“Enough,” another voice interrupted, calm yet authoritative. You turned (as best as you could) towards the man with the gas mask, the tubes hanging from it making a soft hiss with each breath. He had been silent up until now, his mask hiding his expression, but there was something about the way he spoke that made the others fall quite. Sid walked forward slowly, crouching down to meet your eyes. “It doesn’t have to be this hard,” he said softly, the mechanical sound of his mask distorting his voice. “We didn’t choose you by accident. We’ve been… observing you.”
Your stomach churned at his words. Observed? How long had this been going on? Before you could ask, Sid stood up again, glancing at the man beside him shorter than the rest, but with an air of command. His blank Japanese noh mask, white and expressionless, concealed any hint of emotion. His gaze was unreadable beneath the smooth, featureless surface of the mask. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. His silence was more unnerving than anything anyone else could have said.
And then, finally, the last man stepped forward, his dreaded mask shifting slightly as he moved. His hair, twisted into locks that hung just below the mask, framed the mask’s carved features, which seemed to be perpetually locked in a grimace. His voice was low, barely audible, but it cut through the thick air like a blade.
“We’re going to have a lot of fun, you and us,” he said, his tone laced with dark promises. “But don’t worry-we’re not going to kill you. Not yet, at least.”
You shivered, your hands gripping the cold chair beneath you as the weight of their words sank in. They weren’t planning on letting you go. And whatever they had planned… you didn’t want to find out. As the minutes stretched on, the group began to move, breaking their ominous stance around you. Shawn motioned for the others to leave the room, but before he could step out, he turned back, his eyes glinting behind the clown mask.
“We’ll see how you handle being part of our family,” Shawn said with a smirk (that you couldn’t see). “Don’t disappoint us.”
The door slammed shut, leaving you alone in the dark room. Your mind raced, searching for any way out, but the reality of the situation began to settle in These men were serious you were trapped.