one time when I was really bored and high I decided to see if I could ghost k.o. everyone in lady boyle’s party just for the hell of it, and in retrospect and sobriety, that is absolutely terrifying to think about from the perspective of the partygoers.
You’re attending a lavish masquerade while corpses pile up against the walls of the estate. Maybe on some level you recognize the injustice of it all. Maybe not. But it hardly matters, because you’re safe here, with the tallboys patrolling, and the guards around every corner. You’re safe.
Until you realize that the crowds have begun to thin, so slowly and subtly that you didn’t even notice, did you? They didn’t all leave already, did they? So fast? So soon? Without even saying goodbye? You were just chatting with lord so-and-so in the parlor, what, ten minutes ago? Where did he go? Where are the ladies boyle? Where did everyone go? Why is the only other guest you’ve seen in the past five minutes that ghastly skull-faced man? Why can’t you hear any voices in the next room? Any footsteps? Where are the guards? Where are the servants? Where is everyone else?
Where is the skull-faced man?

















