Songs:

"Mare Desiderii" by The Parlour Trick: watch?v=PDZOJhEQm50

"Valse Op 64 No 2" by Frederic Chopin: watch?v=oiJYKpnlMXQ

Dead leaves scuffled across the cement as you casually walked down the lonely sidewalk. The sun had just set, the sky growing dimmer as the last remnants of light faded below the horizon. The crisp autumn breeze crept into your clothing, causing you to shiver from its unwelcomed touch on your warm skin. Glancing at the paper in your hand, you scanned the address again to validate the destination you now stood in front of. Yes, this was it. Two windows peered back at you like the yellow eyes of a cat, their light giving off a warm feeling, despite the multiple masks staring back at you behind the glass. Grabbing the knob, you let yourself in, a tiny bell ringing as you opened the door. You quietly closed the door so as to not disturb the peace of the environment. You had to admit, though, that the silence was almost unnerving.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" Your voice seemed so loud in the sacred silence. Hearing no response, you walked around the room, looking at all the masks. They almost covered every inch of space in the shop; on every wall hung a myriad of faces, some smiling, others menacing, and others devoid of any emotion. In the middle of the room were golden stands holding masks that seemed to cover one's entire face as well as shoulders.

Walking over to one side of the shop, you peered through the glass encasing that seemed to hold smaller masks. Some, you noticed, were full-faced masks while others were only half of one's face, either covering only the eyes or one side of the face. One mask struck you in particular: a black leather mask with a strap for the back of the head. It only covered one eye, and a set of painted-on teeth seemed to stare at you menacingly. Swallowing the lump that formed in your throat, you placed your face closer to the glass encasing. Unbeknownst to you, a figure stood behind you, watching your every move.

"Boo," a soft, yet low voice, bellowed.

Taken by surprise, you jumped and turned around, almost slamming yourself into the glass counter. Your heart raced wildly as you tried to catch your breath. Glancing at the figure before you, you noticed he was much taller than you and quite slim. Tattoos covered almost every inch of his body, and one particular tattoo caught your interest: a line of indecipherable words written on the side of his neck. Multiple piercings lined his left ear, from the helix of his ear to his earlobe. His raven black hair was tied up in a ponytail with the left side shaved short. A dull black cardigan hung loosely around his pale, exposed shoulders, revealing a dark gray tank top. You scanned down at the black skinny jeans that clung to his lower frame, down to his untied black combat boots. Blood rushed to your face as you felt it begin to burn.

What struck you as odd, though, was the fact that you couldn't see his eyes. He wore black, small metal-rimmed glasses, like he had stolen them from Lennon himself. Even though you were unable to see his eyes, you still had the feeling he was scanning you just as you had him.

"Are you here to buy a mask?"

"U-uh, yeah..." you stammered after finally finding your voice.

"Alright. Is this for a friend or for yourself?" he asked, hands thrown casually in his pockets.

"For me. It's, umm, for me."

"I see. Well, take a seat. I have to take your measurements," he replied, gesturing to the barbershop chair next to him.

Taking a seat, you swallowed, trying to calm yourself down from the previous scare. Taking a measuring tape, the man began holding it up to various parts of your face, occasionally jotting down numbers into the notepad on the table next to you. Concentrating on the task at hand, he would absentmindedly bite on the metal ring that adorned his bottom lip. You watched his movements in wonder. For someone who was so thoroughly engrossed in his work, and to have crafted all these masks by himself, he must have immense talent.

"So what is this for?" he asked, breaking you from your reverie.

"Oh! It's for, umm, the annual Halloween masquerade."

For a brief second, you could have sworn he stopped his actions, but he quickly resumed, making you question your observation.

"I see. Ya know, I heard ghouls sometimes frequent that event."

"I know," you replied nonchalantly.

"You do? And yet you still want to go? What a brave girl you are."

You saw a slight smirk tug at the corner of his pale lips as he set down the pencil and measuring tape on the table.

"Well, between you and me, I've always been curious to see one up close. Now, whether that makes me stupid or not, I don't really care," you blatantly responded.

A low chuckle escaped his throat. "At any rate, let's hope this mask will make you seem both human and ghoul. That way, you won't be considered a target. That being said…"

To your surprise, he gently grabbed your chin and moved your face to the side to get a better look at your profile. You felt your heart skip a beat as his cold hands made contact with your warm skin.

"I think it would be best if we did something elegant. You have a doll-like face. Therefore, you should have something that brings that out."

Watching him pick up his notepad and pencil, you observed him jot down notes for future reference. Without looking up at you, he said, "Ya know, a mask says a lot about one's personality."

You hummed in response as you shifted your position in the chair, crossing your legs.

"Okay, would you like to see what the design will be, or do you want to wait until it's finished?"

"I'll wait."

Opening your purse, you began to take out your wallet, hoping this expense wouldn't set you back a few paychecks. Without looking up, you heard the words, "It's on the house."

"Wait, what? Oh, no, I-I can't. Please, allow me to-"

"I said it's on me. Don't worry about it."

Sheepishly, you placed your wallet back in your purse and smiled.

"Thank you so much, Mr…?

"Uta. And you are?"

"Uta. Nice to meet you. I'm _."

"Beautiful name. Well, come back in a week, and I'll have it ready by then."

Bowing your head in gratitude, you walked out of the shop feeling slightly euphoric.

A week had passed, and you had made the final preparations for the annual Halloween masquerade. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you daydreamed about what the experience would be like. You had the dress, the shoes, the hairstyle. Now all you needed was the mask. Walking into the small shop, you heard the familiar ringing of the bell as you entered.

"Hello? Uta?" you called.

"You're here. Come to the back of the shop."

Walking toward the source of his voice, you noticed a small black box tied with a white ribbon on the glass counter. You were just about to pick it up when a pair of pale hands touched yours, preventing you from touching the box.

"Please. Allow me."

Much to your surprise, you were not afraid this time but were strangely comforted by his touch. You mentally tossed that oddity aside as you watched him open the box. You slightly gasped in surprise. Before you was a masterpiece created only from hands who seemed to understand the essence of its beauty. Cradled in black cloth was a mask made of a black metal designed in a lace-like pattern. The eyes had an extra layer of the metal which seemed to obscure the eyes. The entire mask seemed to cover the face but seemed to stop short just below the nose, allowing the mouth to be the only visible facial feature. It was a sight to behold due to its duality in simplicity and elegance.

Uta gently picked up the mask and placed it on your face, reaching behind your head to tie the black ribbon. His face was so close to yours, it made your heart thud in your chest. So badly did you want to take off his glasses, but you refrained. Stepping away from you, Uta picked up a hand mirror and placed it in front of you.

"Uta…" you breathed. "It's...perfect."

For the first time, you saw a small smile form on his lips, indicating his appreciation for your compliment on his finished masterpiece. Bowing his head, he watched you walk away, the smile still playing on his lips.

The masquerade was definitely a sight to behold. Gowns of all different fabrics and hues fanned out as graceful dancers were spun around by their male counterparts. The elegant string quartet played music of a long forgotten time. The waltz rhythms and elegant harmonies of the violins made your heart stir. Champagne in hand, you conversed with different people, their identities kept secret behind their masks. The refrain from revealing one's identity created a mysterious air about the venue. Here, both ghouls and humans came out to socialize, neither party knowing who was predator and who was prey.

The song ended, resulting in graceful applause by all who were in attendance. The woman you were speaking with had left to dance with her partner. You tipped your head back as you drank the last bit of your champagne, letting the gold liquid run down your throat. When you lifted your head, you were startled by a man with short, purple hair and a white mask standing in front of you. He looked like a prince: adorned in a purple, pin-striped suit, the collar of his flashy red dress shirt popping out of his jacket, and a simple, narrow black tie tucked into the buttoned piece. His mask only covered the left side of his face, a large, cartoon-like smile painted on where his left eye would be. His right eye was exposed, revealing an iris of a mystical amethyst hue. Suddenly, he bowed to you like a prince to a princess, a gloved hand outstretched to you.

"Would you give me the honor of letting me have this dance, my flower?"

His low voice purred as he looked up at you, a coy smirk playing on his lips.

"S-sure," you stammered, placing your hand in his.

"Merci," he replied.

Gently grabbing your hand, as if he were afraid to break it, the purple-haired prince guided you to the dance hall. The string quartet began another song. This one, you recognized as Chopin's "Valse Op 64 No 2" (Thank you, college music history class, you internally chuckled). The man seemed to have much skill in ballroom dancing, for every move he made was graceful, perfectly timed to the rhythm of the music. He sighed.

"Oh, what a lovely night this has been. And to think I have been honored by your presence, my sweet princess."

You were a little taken back by his sudden candidness. Suddenly, you felt his arm coil tighter around your waist. He brought your body close to his, leaving no space between you two. His mouth made its way to your ear.

"I have been watching you, my princess. Your beauty astounds me."

His warm breath tickled your neck as his lips inched closer. You then heard a sharp inhalation of breath. Was this man a ghoul?! Your heart raced in panic.

"Ahh, how exquisite. How...devine. Tels beau parfum," he murmured.

As if your prayers were answered, you felt the sudden absence of his warm breath on your skin as the song ended. Finally out of his grasp, you quickly moved away from the man without making a scene. Walking out to the balcony to get fresh air, you inhaled deeply and breathed a sigh of relief.

"You look like you've seen better days," a soft voice said.

You jerked your head to the source of the angelic voice. How much more of this could your poor heart take? Leaning against the wall was a man, dressed in a black suit, tie, and dress shirt, wearing a strange mask. It was cream-colored, with a long protruding nose, much like the ones doctors wore during the time of the Black Plague. Five small holes were drilled in it, two for the eyes, one in the middle of the forehead, and two on either side of the face. What was most unsettling about his mask was that you couldn't see his eyes, but you had the strange feeling he was observing your every move.

Catching your breath, you replied, "I think...I think that man was a ghoul."

He chuckled, "A ghoul, huh? Well your speculation wouldn't be wrong. There's plenty of them here."

Seeing you were still unnerved by your previous encounter, the man pushed himself off the wall and crossed his arms.

"Ya know, a mask says a lot about one's personality."

For a moment, your heart froze. You had heard this before, you could have sworn it. Where was it from? Then, the man pointed at his mask.

"Wanna try mine?"

"Okay." You studied the mask before answering. "You hide your entire face for fear of letting anyone see who you really are. You try to confuse others, hence the various holes in your mask. Only you can see out, but no one can see in. You hide your eyes from others because you don't know how they'd take you. Am I right?

For a moment, he stood there silently. "Perhaps you are, in some regard."

"Oh really? Then what does mine say about me?"

The man slowly walked closer to you, his presence much different than that of the purple-haired prince. He grew closer to your ear.

"If you want to know, then come find me."

With that, the man walked away, almost too fast for your mind to grasp. Running back into the dancehall, your eyes caught a figure dressed in black making his way up the stairs. He stared back at you for only a moment long enough for you to recognize him. Rushing past the dancers, you gently pushed your way through. Finally making it to the stairs, you grabbed the skirt of your gown and lifted it, running up. Who was this man? And why were you so intrigued by him?

Halfway down the hall, you stopped to catch your breath when you noticed a familiar cream-colored mask against a closed door. Hesitantly, you placed your hand on the doorknob and pushed open the door. The room was devoid of any light save the moonlight coming in through the tall window. Where had he gone?

"Boo," a velvety voice sounded near your ear.

You were about to turn around when you felt a pair of large hands hold your shoulders, stopping you from twisting your body. You heard him sigh before speaking.

"You hide your true self from others," he spoke from behind you. "You let them see what you want them to see: poise, grace, charm. Your greatest feature-and perhaps greatest weakness-is your eyes. You can see everyone else, but to them, your inner self is hidden by a veil of mistrust and slight apprehension to open up to others. Yet," his hand reached around to touch the opening near your mouth, "You still express what you feel. Your kind words pierce the heart of any being; man or ghoul."

Then, you felt his hands move from your shoulders to the ribbon on the back of your head that held your mask up. Removing the mask from your face, you felt his presence even closer toward you. Suddenly, you felt a soft, silky fabric being placed over your eyes and tied at the back of your head.

"Who...who are you?" you whispered.

"Let's see if you can find out," his soft voice purred in your ear, sending a wave of shivers down your spine.

Taking your hands in his, he guided them toward what you assumed to be his face. Hesitantly, you slowly swept your fingers along what you suspected to be his cheekbones. Your fingers gently cupped the sides of his face. You heard a relaxed sigh escape his lips as your hands rested there momentarily. Your fingers bumped along two studs near his left temple, traveling down to his nose and then to his lips, only then to make contact with a cold metal ring on his lower lip.

You soon felt his presence growing closer towards you. Before your brain could register what was happening, a pair of soft lips made contact with your own, the cold metal sending a strange yet slightly erotic jolt that traveled from the base of your spine to your toes. Your mind went numb, every thought was shut down, only to be replaced by a primal hunger that seemed to overpower you. You wanted to savor every touch as his hands gently cupped the sides of your face. Knees starting to buckle from underneath you, your stance began to falter. Sensing this, the man wrapped a strong arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He took this opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every area as if he owned it. Every action of his spoke of pure dominance.

His lips made their way to your jawline, traveling down to your neck. He placed soft butterfly kisses along your throbbing jugular vein, making you bite your bottom lip. Feeling the increased excitement in your pulse, he softly growled along your skin, his kisses becoming wetter and more impatient. Hungry kisses found their way to your collarbone where teeth gently nibbled on the soft spot of your neck. An unexpected moan resonated from your throat, high-pitched and desperate. You mentally cursed yourself for revealing your weak spot to which a low, husky chuckle from his throat responded in kind.

"I like hearing the noises you make. Let's see what else I can get from you…" His husky voice purred in your ear as you felt any ounce of humanity you had disappear. Not able to take it anymore, you tore off the silk blindfold which obscured your vision. Glowing red eyes surrounded in a sea of blackness stared surprisingly back at you.

"Uta?" you breathed incredulously.

"It's about time you figured it out," he chuckled darkly, a malicious grin forming on his lips.

Your pulse quickened. He was a ghoul?! No, this couldn't be! He was so kind and...human...You darted your eyes, searching for an answer. Seeing the confusion and panic in your eyes, Uta gently placed a hand on your chin, forcing you to look back into his ghoulish eyes. Then, without speaking, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"_, listen to me. I would never hurt you. There's something-I dunno-different...about you. You seem so accepting and…"

Your heart fluttered at hearing his words. He kissed you again, this time on the nose and again on the lips. Taking your hand in his, Uta led you to the bed where he gently placed you down before climbing on top of you. One of his hands pinned your wrists to the mattress as he slowly kissed your neck. A high-pitched whine escaped your throat when you felt his other hand unzip the back of your gown.

The string quartet played, and the graceful dancers followed the rhythms in a blur of color, champagne, and laughter. Little did they know that just above them were two lovers intertwined in their own dance. Muffled moans and chuckles could only be heard in the sacred bedroom they occupied. Backs arched, sweat dripped from every pore as they engaged in the forbidden dance between a human and a ghoul.