Diego fixed his eyes on the box over his bed, the box with his costume inside. He'd been waiting for a straight hour so far, trying to find the strength to open it. Like trying to jump into a pool outside of a hot day, there were a lot of last-minute regrets.
"Come on man, it's just a costume, you can do this", he pumped himself up before grabbing the lid once more, "I just hope it's not a speedo".
Fingers clutched the border of the lid, waiting for that extra push.
"In one, two…."
He doubted again.
"Two and a half".
He then doubted even more.
"Two and three quarters".
Then, after several seconds, he finally decided enough was enough.
"Three!".
He lifted it in a sudden movement, with so much strength that it almost flew away, to his own surprise. Diego took the contents and examined them. It was a simple wrestling getup, with pants, fortunately. There were a pair of cheap-looking trousers and boots, in the same style that the city's factory workers used on the job. And then there was the key element that made it all come together, the mask.
After weeks of waiting and training, he was finally looking at it, and truth be told, he was a bit disappointed. He was in a world of magic, he'd seen Emma covered in lightning, he'd even used a magic metal disc to warm up the kettle, and he'd been expecting another thing that would take away his breath. Instead, it was a piece of cloth with a skull and flame patterns on it. It was a nice mask, but all things considered, it was far below all the fantastical things he was slowly getting used to.
But it was still his uniform and his feelings had no say on it, so he put it on and looked in the mirror. If the mask had been alive, it would've been prideful enough to take offense to Diego's opinions, because it had disappeared, and now, he was looking at an intimidating skull surrounded by green fire. With the same dangerous curiosity of a little kid, he slowly moved his hand to touch the flames dancing around his head. They didn't burn.
"Now that's more like it!", he said to himself with glee. He moved his head around, posing at every angle, enjoying what, without a shred of doubt, was the best costume he'd ever gotten his hands on. He then began to flex his growing muscles, admiring his looks, and how the skull looked back when light hit it at just the right angle. It was the best mask ever.
I like it.
Diego looked back, muscles tensed and ready see action. It was the same voice he'd been hearing back when those hooligans stormed into the building for Emma. The same voice that craved for violence.
"Who said that?", his eyes darted from one corner of the room to the next. Not a second later he was already armed with a nearby lamp. He'd seen enough movies to know how this could end, and wasn't taking any chances, "Come on, I don't play these games".
Over here, buddy.
He could hear something tapping on crystal. The voice was coming from the mirror.
Diego couldn't believe what he was seeing, every one of his senses completely refused to admit what was in front of him. He was there, at the other side of the mirror, just that it wasn't really him, but something wearing his mask and body. His movements didn't match those on the other side, and the pale skull looked at him with what seemed like perverse amusement. In a panic, he pulled the mask off and threw it away.
But the skull was still there.
"I'm going insane".
I'd say the same thing if I saw some dude talking to a mirror, but good news, you ain't crazy yet, the masked Diego said, leaning on the frame with one hand, You're just stuck in an insane world.
"Shut up, hallucinations don't talk back".
Come on, is it really that crazy? Just look at yourself, you died and now you're a Frankenstein. And let's not open the can of worms that's your boss, that woman creeps me out.
The reflection had a point, which was even more concerning. Listening to the voices inside your own head tended to end poorly.
"Ok, let's think that I'm not crazy, despite how absolutely crazy this whole thing is. How is this even possible?".
The other Diego simply shrugged his shoulders, Beats me, I know just as much as you do. Maybe, it's magic, or maybe I'm the way your mind is dealing with all the trauma.
He pressed his skull against the mirror, threatening to break out of it, and started to dig inside with a finger.
Or maybe, just maybe, they botched the job when putting your new brain together, and somewhere inside, there's a tiny little piece squeezed in the wrong place. Just that one thing out of place, and voilà, here I am.
Diego could feel his thoughts spiraling out of control into a flood of what-ifs, each worse than the last one. What if there really was something very wrong inside of him? Some lobe that was hanging loosely to the rest of his brain, or something that they'd left in there while putting his body together. What if he was growing a tumor?!
But there was one thing that didn't add up. If any one of those scenarios were true, then why the hell was that other him so chatty, so damn full of himself? It was as if he had thoughts of his own, beyond what any hallucination could come up with.
Shit, I dug too deep, the masked self complained, answering his doubts. He pulled his blood-soaked finger out and cleaned it against his trousers. There was definitely something going on inside of that skull.
"What do you want?", the kravist asked with little patience. No one acted that way without any reason, even if it was self-serving.
I thought it was pretty clear, his tone changed, with the sincerity of a parent trying to teach his son, I want what's best for you. But for that, I need you to man up already.
He also spoke with the same condescending tone of a parent that thought he knew what made the world spin, and didn't take kindly to anyone having a different opinion on the matter.
"What?", the young revenant was dumbfounded. However, above all, he was afraid of where the conversation was going. He still remembered how much he enjoyed fighting the four men that came to threaten Emma. Not how he hurt them, but how he beat them. It felt like a damn game, one that he had won.
What? What?, It was one of the few times when someone could say that the mirror was actually mocking them, What are you doing asking dumb questions you already know the answer to? I want you to get tough, to beat up anyone that comes to take advantage of you and scare those thinking about it, because that's how the world works!
"Sounds more like being a mad dog to me".
An arm rushed through the mirror and grabbed Diego by the mouth.
Listen here, smartass. Maybe you got used to the good living back home, but I haven't forgotten the tough times, back when they laughed at us and chased us around. I haven't forgotten how they treated us worse than actual dogs just because it was fun to them. And the only way you ever get them to stop, is if they know they'll lose their teeth in the way.
The young revenant remained silent. He did remember those awful times, back when he was bullied and treated as a reject, back when it felt he was alone in the world. No one cared about him or gave him the help he desperately needed, simply because he was the odd one out. Not even a friend. He'd endured years of abuse until something inside finally snapped and he fought back like an animal, only to then end up labeled as the problematic one.
You have a golden opportunity here, just open your eyes and take it. You can finally stop holding all that anger inside and let go, without any consequences. You'll finally get the respect you deserve.
The hand weakened its grip, while the reflection pleaded to the original to listen.
And the best part is that they'll cheer you for it. They'll even pay you. You can do everything you ever wanted to do, if you just become a bit tougher.
Diego hit his arm on the side to reclaim his freedom, defying him.
"Here's the thing that you've forgotten. That's never been the kind of person I've wanted to be. I don't need to be like that anymore, and I don't need you".
His other self looked at him heartbroken, but he quickly hid it behind a wall of burning rage.
You want to do it that way? Fine! I'll just wait for the world to teach this lesson again. And when they spit at you, when you come back begging me for help, I'll give you my hand. Because I'm the only thing in either world that you can trust! The only one that won't stab you in the back when they get tired of you!
"Jesus Christ, who the hell do you even think you are?"
What was that stage name Dirtha came up with a few days ago? It had a nice ring to it, it's at the tip of my tongue.
His eyes shone when it finally came back.
Hellmask.
He disappeared suddenly, same way he'd barged in. Now, Diego was looking at his own scarred face, with more doubts about that strange new world, and what was lurking inside of him. The voice's words still echoed through his mind, fishing back memories from the past.
He'd never enjoyed hurting others. But he loved feeling like the one in control.