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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/The_Whitemare on 2024-10-27 16:01:46+00:00.

He turned up around six months ago. It was us students who noticed him first since everyday he’d walk past the town’s high-school at around the same time. The kids would be out in the yard, playing basketball and gossiping, would stop what they were doing to watch hum stroll by. He never looked at us, but by God did we make a game out of looking at him.

What got everyone was how he dressed. He didn’t show a speck of skin. His entire body was covered with some piece of clothing. It looked like a kid who’d gotten into their parents closet. Everything he wore was mismatched and tattered. Usually it’d be a long, brown duster coat, tartan slacks and a horribly stained shirt. Occasionally he’d throw in a scarf or a hat, or maybe a second coat under the duster. He wore gloves, sometimes leather, sometimes silk, and a tweed mask.

His mask was hard to explain. It wrapped around his head perfectly with no visible seams or eye holes. We didn’t know whether he could see or not, but he never had any trouble walking or crossing the road. I think it’s the mask that really got people’s imagination wearing.

Some of the kids guessed he might have a rare skin disease. Others thought that he might’ve been a worker at the old chemical plant and was badly burned when the factory burnt down, but that would’ve made him at least ninety years old. A bunch of older kids spread the rumour that he was some sick serial killer, laying low in our sleepy town, covering his face in case someone recognises him from a wanted poster or breaking news bulletin. Everyone liked to propound from the sidelines, but no one had the guts to actually find out. Not until tonight.

It was the 26th of October. School had just ended for a week-long break and I was going to my first real party. I barely knew the guy whose house it was at, but I leapt at the chance of underage drinking.

The night turned out great. We all had fun and managed to not throw up once. I downed a whole packet of apple-flavoured chewing gum to try and mask the smell of alcohol on my breath from my parents, although I had a feeling they’d be able to tell anyway. Me and three close friends left the party just before eleven and set off staggering home.

We passed my friend Luke’s house first. As he walked up to his front door a light came on and his mother stepped out, her face contorted with pure anger. We laughed at Luke and stumbled on our way as he realised he mixed up the dates and forgot to tell his parents he was going out tonight.

Me, Shayne and Rowan kept messing around as we navigated our way back home. Shayne’s house was next and since I lived so far out, I was planning on having a sleepover at Rowan’s. We turned a corner, still laughing from a joke we made a block ago, and saw someone. All three of us crouched behind the fence, peeping out from behind to confirm our suspicions. Walking down the middle of the road was the Masked Man.

He was in his usual get up, only he’d taken off his gloves. We all squinted to try and get a better look. The only light we had came from a pathetic, constantly buzzing street lamp but we were desperate to finally see what he’s been hiding. All of a sudden he turned and began walking up to a house. He stepped up onto the porch and opened the door. Just as he walked inside, we could see him slowly take off his mask, and then the door slammed shut behind him.

The three of us looked at each other, all thinking the same thing. The mystery of what the Masked Man looked like was still that - a mystery. He had his back to us and even in perfect daylight we wouldn’t have been able to make his face out. The first one of us to commit our thoughts to speech was Shayne.

He told us, pumping out his chest, that he was gonna go see which of the rumours was true. He said he had a plan and before me or Rowan could say anything, Shayne was already halfway across the street. We looked at each other and followed him, coming up to the Masked Man’s old house. It was noticeably more run down than the other houses on the block. The paint was peeling, the gutter had almost fallen down and an upstairs window had been shattered. The three of us stood around the front door, keeping our voices low as Shayne explained his grand plan.

He said he was going to simply knock on the front door. When the Masked Man answered, he’d say “oh sorry, wrong house” and then just turn around and leave, but not before getting a good eyeful of him. We all thought that it was a flawless plan and egged him on as we took our hiding place behind a bush at the end of the Masked Man’s property.

As I got a good look at the house I realised that I recognised it. My dad had this friend who had gone through a rough divorce. He slept in our spare room for a few weeks before he eventually won the house back in the court settlement. Around six months ago, he moved out of town without so much as a goodbye. I could remember when I was much younger him showing his car off to me. That thing was his pride and joy. I couldn’t believe this was the same house.

My thoughts were bisected by the sound of Shayne rapping his knuckles on the front door. He turned to look at us and gave us a dumb grin and a thumbs up. I think he was about to crack a joke when the door opened. Standing at the entrance was the Masked Man. He’d taken off his mask, as well as most of his clothes. That much I could make out as he was still shrouded in shadows. There wasn’t a single light on in his house and to me and Rowan he wasn’t anything more than a silhouette.

As we both tried to discreetly get a better look, Shayne began stuttering out his excuse. Suddenly, he stopped. There was a pause before he began to scream in a shrill pitch. We watched as the Masked Man grabbed Shayne by his lower jaw and violently yanked him inside the house, the door slamming shut behind him.

Me and Rowan looked on in shock. I turned to Rowan to ask him what we should do but before I could speak he was up and running to the front door. He started pounding on it and yelling expletives. I ran up behind him and yanked him away. I held him and asked if he was crazy. As he began mumbling a response, the front door began to open.

We both bolted like a greyhound out of a trap and dived behind the corner of the house. We stayed there, holding our breath and waiting to meet the same fate as Shayne. Eventually, Rowan found enough courage to peep around the edge of the wall. He didn’t see anyone. He moved out a little further and saw that the door was still closed.

I pulled him back and told him that we should call the police. He snorted and explained to me that they’d probably arrest us for underage drinking. We’d spend the night in some jail cell and by the time we could explain ourselves, Shayne would be dead.

Before I could question his reasoning, Rowan walked over to a window, cupped his hands and peeked in. I sighed, frustrated, and asked if he saw anything. He was replying with a long, drawn-out “no” when suddenly he yelped and crouched down. Seeing his reaction I instinctively did the same.

I crawled over to him and in a voice just below a whisper I asked him what he’d seen. I could see the fear in his eyes as he told me that saw the Mask Man, now mostly derobed, walking out from what he guessed was a door to the basement. After that, Rowan started muttering to himself about how the Masked Man must’ve seen him.

I knew that Shayne, my best friend for as long as I could remember, was in the basement. My stomach churned thinking about what I had to do next. I held my breath as I stood and peered in through the window. I couldn’t see the Masked Man anywhere. I nudged the window and my suspensions were confirmed. Like the front door, the window was left unlocked and slightly ajar.

I tried to steady my breath as I pulled the window all the way open. Rowan looked at me in shock as I asked him to give me a leg up. Still, he complied. Once I was inside I pulled him in after me. Before I did, he grabbed a fist sized rock from the garden. “For self defence”, he told me.

The house was perfectly still. Every surface was covered in a thin veneer of dust. We both stood there for a second, trying to hear the Masked Man. There wasn’t a sound, other than the faint dripping of some faraway faucet. In what we thought was relative safety, we crept our way to the door the Masked Man had emerged from. I gently opened it and sure enough, I was met with a staircase descending into the impenetrable darkness of the basement.

I didn’t dare call out Shayne’s name in fear that he wouldn’t be the only one who’d hear me. Instead, I began my way down the stairs, Rowan following right behind me. My mother had given me a small wind-up torch, so I could make my way home safely at night, she said. I fished around in my coat pocket for it, my hand clutching the familiar metal just as I reached the bottom.I found the button and switched it on, finally illuminating the room. It took me a while to realise what I was seeing, but judging from Rowan’s deafening scream, he knew right away.

Shayne was hanging upside down from the ceiling, a chained hook driven through both of his ankles. He had long, fresh cuts across his throat, wrists and legs, which were all pouring with blood. The blood dripped down into a series of angled metal sheeting, which directed the flow into a steel trough. There were four other bodies hanging from chains, all serving the…

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