A Scenario from the Book

To the left, the beast groaned as he turned his back to the torturous proceedings. From the rear, it appeared even larger for some reason. His hulking frame covered in grey tattered clothing consuming a voluminous intake of breath that was audible even against the latex shield coving his face. And it was hideous mask that suddenly became central to this continuing nightmare. Graham raised his arms to shoulder-height, bent at the elbow, his massive hands reaching for the dishevelled mass of mattered hair across the crown of the disguise. Fingers entwining the blackened locks, he pulled the mask forwards, gradually revealing his own wild eruption of hidden hair, differing lengths, colours, the victim of self-cutting, some strands defending their place inside the concealing hood, knotted and becoming one with the inner material, being torn from the root as the beast continued to divulge the horrors which lay beyond the façade of his latex cloak. It groaned again, not in pain, but as though he was performing a task to which he believed was a mistake, while somehow being powerless to resist.
The rubber cloak was free of Graham’s face, though with his head bowed and his back turned to the audience, the revelation of his facial features remained a mystery. It sighed, the mask in his massive hands, facing upwards, the warped features staring back at Graham like a distant friend. A low guttural growl seemed to fill the room as the monster’s mind fought with a silent debate, the performing of a task that felt wrong… the passing of the torch.

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