Member Name: xccj
Theme: The Mask
Word Count: 516
Story: A Vigilante’s Mask
Some call me a vigilante. By one definition of the word, they’re right. I seek out those who choose to break the rules, and I punish them accordingly. Only I do it outside the law.
Nobody knows who I am. Most of my victims are in no state to identify me when I’m finished with them. Few witnesses ever get more than a passing glance at me before I’m gone. The police search for me, in addition to those I hunt, but they don’t even know where to look.
But, most of all, nobody knows who I am because I wear the mask.
It’s a simple, featureless mask. Its sole purpose is to hide my facial features, and disguise my true identity. I made it with my own two hands, and I wear it when I embark on my missions. It is the mask I hide behind when I fight evil.
Oh, but don’t think of me as a hero. I am not wearing the mask to become some sort of symbol. There are criminals who know who I am, and others who do not. Some fear me, and some underestimate my abilities. None of them escape my wrath.
The mask is not a means of protection either, for myself or those close to me. I did not start my fight because a loved one was killed by the gangs who roam the street. My relatives live far away, and I am not close to them at all. I have no true friends or acquaintances. I was already a loner, and I have nobody to shield from the evils of humanity.
The mask doesn’t offer me any powers, any special abilities, any edge for a fight. The mask itself is barely important; it is my fists and knives that take down criminals. The mask has one simple purpose; it hides my identity.
But why must I hide my identity? I’m not hiding it from those I punish for breaking the law; I’m hiding it from the law itself.
Why am I hiding my actions from the law? Why am I fighting crime in the first place? Why have I embarked on a journey of vigilantism with this mask?
It’s not for some personal grudge or revenge. It’s not for some perfect ideal of right and wrong.
It’s because I like to fight. It’s the thrill of the conflict. It’s the pain I cause to those who deserve it.
I realize it’s not a healthy reason. It’s an adrenaline addiction; a crave I cannot help but give into. My morals are too important to me to take out my lust for battle on the innocent, so I do not engage in crime directly. But to join the police or the military stifles my actions and would not be enough. So I take matters into my own hands; I’ve found my own way to satisfy my needs, by fighting fire with fire in the darkest regions of the city.
I hide behind my mask, because it is the only way society will accept me for who I am.