Death Mask

Officer Gillow came forward with his revolver held up high in his right hand. “Okay, sir, let’s take it real easy, shall we?”

Sissy said, “He’s right, Frank. Please be careful. It’s probably nothing — just a scent that’s gotten him all excited. But you don’t know for sure.”

Frank reached cautiously across the door and rattled the handle. It was locked. But still Deputy kept clawing at it and keening, and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to stop until they opened it up.

Officer Gillow took a letter opener from one of the office desks. He holstered his gun and hunkered down in front of the doorway, poking the letter opener into the lock. “There’s no key on the other side. Unless the perp has taken it out, there’s nobody in here.”

With that, he stood up again, and gave the door a devastating kick. Even Deputy jumped back, on all fours.

The side of the doorframe was splintered, but the door was still hanging on. Officer Gillow gave it another kick and it collapsed inward, bouncing sideways on top of a stack of stationery boxes.

Deputy hurtled forward, so violently that Frank lost his grip on his leash. He threw himself into the darkness of the supply closet, furiously barking.

“Deputy!” Frank shouted at him, but none of them was prepared for what happened next. They heard more boxes falling and a heavy crash like a fax machine falling over. Then a hoarse, unintelligible roar, more like a beast than a human being.

Officer Gillow immediately yanked out his handgun again and yelled into his radio for backup.

“Seventeenth floor! Seventeenth floor! Newman! Bitzer! Get your asses up here right now, you guys! We got the bastards cornered!”

There was another shout, and then Red Mask almost exploded out of the supply-closet door in a snowstorm of copy paper. He was clutching Deputy by the neck, holding him in the air up so that his hind legs were barely touching the floor. His fingers were digging so deeply into Deputy’s neck that the dog’s eyes were protruding and his breath came in high-pitched shrieks.

Red Mask was scarlet faced, huge, and bursting with rage. He was stabbing at Deputy with a large triangular kitchen knife, so that the fur on Deputy’s chest and belly was matted with blood, and blood was splattering onto the floor.

“Drop the dog, or I shoot!” shouted Officer Gillow. “I said drop —!”

Frank tried to step forward, but Red Mask brandished his knife at him, and he couldn’t get close.

“This is your last warning!” warned Officer Gillow, and fired.

Red Mask shuddered, the way that a reflection shudders when you throw a stone into a darkened pool, but apart from that the shot didn’t appear to affect him at all. He let out another roar and swung Deputy wildly from side to side. Deputy screamed in pain, until Red Mask swung him sideways and hurled him clear across the office, so that he collided with a thump with the side of one of the cubicles and left streaks of blood down the side of it.

“Hold it right there!” Officer Gillow demanded. “Put your hands on top of your head and kneel down on the floor!”

Red Mask held up the knife in his right hand and then slowly and defiantly drew a second knife out of his coat. His eyes were black slits. His mouth was a gash, like a lizard’s.

“Thought you’d be clever, did you?” he said. He turned his head around and looked at each of them in turn.

“I said kneel on the fucking floor, scumbag!” Officer Gillow yelled at him. “Are you deaf, or what?”

“Oh, I can hear you sure enough,” said Red Mask. “I can hear you clear as those cicadas. You’re loud and irritating and twice as ugly.”

“You got three,” said Office Gillow, cocking his revolver again, and pointing it directly at Red Mask’s chest.

Red Mask slowly approached them. Frank said, “I’d stay back, friend, if I were you.”

“Friend? I’m not your friend. But I do know one person here.” He turned to Molly, and said, “I know you, don’t I, my darling? You and your brushes.”

“What the hell is he raving about?” said Officer Gillow.

“Your brushes, my dear. your soft, sable brushes. licking my skin like the tip of your tongue, coaxing out my colors. And your pencils. the way they shade my face and my body so intensely, giving me shape, giving me strength. You have a wonderful gift. You can make life rise up from nothing but whiteness.”

They could hear the elevators whining. Any minute, backup would arrive.

Red Mask slowly sank to his knees, although he was still holding the two knives over his head. Officer Gillow stepped up closer to him, pointing his revolver directly at his face.

Red Mask was still staring at Molly. “You gave me personality. You gave me everything. I should be grateful to you, shouldn’t I? Except, you know, that I’m not. The only reason you painted me was so that I could be caught, and tried, and sentenced to death. No wonder I have no faith in human kindness.”

“Drop the knives!” Officer Gillow demanded. He was almost as red in the face as Red Mask now, and he was sweating.

Red Mask didn’t take his eyes off Molly. “But the way you brought me to life. that was so sensual. As soon as you painted my eyes I could see you. But I knew that I wanted revenge. That was all I was born for.”

Without warning, he snapped his head around so that he was facing Officer Gillow. Officer Gillow shouted, “Hold it right there!” But Red Mask reared to his feet as if he were a red and black volcano erupting, both of his knives held up high.

Officer Gillow fired two shots. Sissy ducked and covered her ears with her hands. She was sure that Officer Gillow must have hit Red Mask, but the shots didn’t seem to have any effect on him at all, except that black tatters flew from the back of his suit.

Trevor came bounding across and tried to jump on Red Mask’s back. Molly cried out, “Trevor! Don’t!” But Red Mask swung his left elbow behind him, and then his right, and sent Trevor sprawling back onto the floor.

Then, without any hesitation, he brought both knives down into Officer Gillow’s shoulders, and into his chest, and into his neck. Officer Gillow staggered backward, with both arms held up in front of him to protect his face, but Red Mask’s attack was so furious that he couldn’t fend him off. He fell backward over a chair, and then Red Mask was on top of him, his knives flashing like some terrible harvesting machine, chopping him apart.

But Frank was on him now. He grabbed Red Mask around the neck in an armlock and forced his knee into the small of his back.

Red Mask roared, “Get off me! Get off me! I’ll cut you to pieces!”

“Oh, yeah? You son of a bitch! Just try it!”

Frank pulled his head up even more, and gripped his right wrist and began to slam it against the side of one of the desks, again and again.

“Get off me! I’m going to cut your guts out for this! Do you want to see your own intestines? I can show you, you maggot, in glorious Technicolor! Get off me!”

Frank slammed Red Mask’s wrist right against the edge of the desk, and the knife went flying. Then he twisted him around and made a grab for his left wrist, too, pinning him down.

For almost ten seconds, Red Mask strained against him, glaring directly into his face. But then he let out a bark of triumph. “You’re the same as me, goddammit! I can see it in your eyes! I can see it in your face! You’re painted, too!”

Sissy cried out, “Frank!” — frightened for him, terrified that Red Mask was going to hurt him, but at the same time pleading for his forgiveness for bringing him back to life.

As Frank and Red Mask continued to struggle, Trevor and Molly had pulled Officer Gillow well away from them. Officer Gillow was decorated in stab wounds, and his uniform was soaked in blood. He was quivering from head to foot, but he was still conscious. He held up his blood-slippery radio and said to Trevor, “Call them. Find out what the fuck is holding them up.”

Trevor took the radio and clicked the switch.

“Hello? Hello? This is Trevor Sawyer with Officer Gillow, on the seventeenth floor. We have serious trouble