A figure, clad in black with glowing amber eyes appears at the railing. Who is it? the crowd wonders. Is this the master of the house? The figure whispers, "I'm sorry…."
I close my eyes and sigh. What is the use? The all probably think I am mad anyways. They are all staring at me! What do I do? I do not know!
"I, I am the Master of this household. I welcome you into my home. I hope you find yourselves comfortable," I take a deep breath and continue on. I believe I can do this—I just hope they don't ask about the mask...
"What is your name?" A little girl blurts out before being hushed by her mother. Her childish innocence makes me laugh. A real laugh, unlike I've done since before Grandpapa died five years before. It is a highly musical laugh, rich, and yet very powerful.
"Lady," I hiss. "You should not stifle your daughter so much. She did no harm by asking." The lady looks positively shocked. "My name, mademoiselle, is Aria Amelle Guirre, Lord (or Lady) of Shadowlocke, Comtess de Guirre. Anyone else? Feel free to ask."
"Yes," what looks like a reporter asks, "Why do you wear a mask?"
My blood begins to boil. If they see, they will run in horror and tell every person they meet of the monster that is me! "No one," I growl. "No one will know what lies behind le comtess's mask!" I can fell the other personality, my ancient soul, rise up inside of me and tries to take control.
"Show us your face!" Someone shouts, and pretty soon the whole crowd is chanting this.
"Fine!" I shout. "But you must not take any pictures, or run away screaming." I step back into the shadows and remove my mask. I take one step at a time towards the railing. I am trembling tremendously from nervousness. After all, very few people I do not know, even some I do know, have seen my face in all its horrifying glory. My steps reach the railing, and I look out at the people gathered inside. "Is this what you wanted to see? I am very beautiful, non?" I can feel him there, in my head, feeding my tongue and my thoughts. Shut up, Erik. You are only making things worse for this incarnation…. I can feel him back off.
I hear no whimpers, no screams—why? I realize I have closed my eyes, so I open them. First thing I see: people. In fact, everyone from before…why haven't they run away? Secondly, I notice that most people, though, are staring with eyes and mouth wide open.
I hear light footfalls come up the stairs in the dead silence. Suddenly I feel two arms around my boney leg. "Wh-who are you?" I ask, as I look down. A little girl is hugging me. Why? Isn't she afraid? I notice it is the little girl who asked for my name. I crouch down and return her hug. I can feel the tears well up in my eyes when she does not flinch at all.
"My name is Madeline, madam," says the child in a sweet, soft voice.
"I am not married, Madeline. Are you not afraid of me?" The tears of mine are about to flow freely.
"No mademoiselle. You do not frighten me." And I can feel my tears flow, tears long held back from all the pain and rejection I have ever encountered, going all the way back to when, in my ancient soul's past life, I was known as Erik.