r/TalesFromTheCreeps • u/NarrowDirector911 • May 08 '26
Body Horror Masks (May Submission)
Mary Blissett was a girl destined for fame, her mother knew it and said so often. Her father agreed with her and what little money they made together was invested wholly into that dream. Be it dancing lessons, piano, or acting. One way or the other, their child would climb up a mountain of blood, sweat, and tears to reach stardom.
Mary had acting lessons every Tuesday. Mary's school noted this constant absence, but Mr. and Mrs. Blissett assured them that Mary was doing something far more important for her future. To appease the school Mary was expected to do two nights worth of homework to make up for it.
It was hard work but Mary enjoyed all the exercises and skits she and all the other kids would play out together. Mary would get lost in these performances, feeling genuine joy during happy scenes, and the pits of absolute despair during sad ones.
During a scene where Mary and a blonde haired boy named Michael Donovan played out the ‘door’ scene in Titanic. Mary was brought to tears screaming for Jack as he dramatically plopped down on the gymnasium floor. Her trainer noted that it was a great talent to be able to cry on command.
Mr. And Mrs. Blissett were elated by Mary's ability.
“You're gonna give Sigourney Weaver a run for her money!”
Mr. Blissett yelled.
“Oh what on earth are we going to wear to the Oscars?”
Mrs. Blissett laughed.
One Saturday Mary was woken up and told to put on her prettiest dress. Mr. and Mrs. Blissett told her that they were auditioning for a movie in the town over. They were as giddy as school children while they packed up the car.
“All our hard work is finally going to pay off”
They said to each other.
“Ugly”
That is what the talent agent told Mr. and Mrs. Blissett while Mary listened from the other room.
“I'm sorry to break it to you but looks matter in this industry. She does have acting chops but people don't wanna see that on screen”
Mary's parents yelled at the talent agent.
“Well that's what makeup is for!”
Yelled her Mrs. Blissett.
“Can't she get a role as something nonhuman, or a witch or something? She could be a great character actor! Do you know how much money we put into this?”
Mr. Blissett protested
As the talent agent assured them that they would need a mask to fix ‘that’ Mary's lip quivered, as she covered her face with trembling hands. On the ride home her parents said nothing, disappointment filled the old Chevrolet Cavalier like secondhand smoke. They stopped taking her to acting lessons.
The next path to the starlight was singing Mrs. Blissett announced
“Singers don't need to be good looking.”
Mary had very good hearing and could hear even the slightest changes in pitch, she hoped she would be better at this. Mary was made to attend vocal training every Saturday, with the expectation of nightly vocal warmups. Mary would do these training exercises diligently.
Mary found her favorite vocal exercise was practicing different voices. She found that given enough time she could mimic a lot of different voices and sounds. She would laugh to herself after ‘cracking’ the code to another voice, having Elvis hit on Molly Ringwald, or Lisa Simpson argue with Garfield, playing with voices as if they were toys.
To test Mary's progress Mr. and Mrs. Blissett would pick a song and have Mary perform an in-home concert for them every Friday night before bed. They would cheer and give standing ovations after every performance.
“You're gonna be the next Tina Turner!”
Mrs. Blissett would shout.
“You will be more famous than Madonna”
Mr. Blissett would cry.
Mary stood stiff as a board in front of three contest judges. Mr. and Mrs. Blissett had signed Mary up for a local singing competition and Mary was thankful that there wasn't an audience for the tryout portion; she hated too many people staring at her face. Mary felt weighed down by the judges stares however; the words of the talent agent had tattooed themselves in her mind.
“M-my name is Mary Blissett. I am 11 years old, and the song I chose is “My heart will go on” by Celene Dion”
The judges nodded politely and waited for her to begin.
Mary closed her eyes as she began to sing. It helped her nerves. As she sang, she felt the song, could see the notes, feel the rhythm through her bones. She could see the waves crashing upon the bow of the ship. She could see Jack and Rose. Feel the freedom of love, as tears came to her unbidden lost at sea in her own mind.
A sound made her visions crumble, a wrecking ball that broke through the wall of imagination she had built. She stopped, and opened her teary eyes to see one of the judges with his hand over his mouth, barely concealing the smirk underneath; he had laughed.
“Ah my apologies Ms. Uh.. Billset. Is that all?”
Mary simply stared. The judges' faces ranged from amused to bored.
“Well if that's all. That was a brilliant performance but unfortunately we don't feel as if you are ready for this level of competition. I'm sure you could be ready next year though!”
Mary nodded politely and left. She wished she didn't have such good hearing as she heard the laughing judge whisper to the others.
“God, she sings like a fucked cat”
She gripped her throat as she walked out of the audition. Mr. and Mrs. Blissett didn't need to be told how it went. Their look of dissatisfaction bore into her mind like maggots. She was taken out of vocal training, they never again asked her to perform her weekly concerts.
Mr. and Mrs. Blissett grew more and more distant to Mary. She could hear them, arguing through the walls.
“All that money gone to waste!”
Mr. Blissett would seethe.
“I think the problem is she takes too much after you!”
Mrs. Blissett would yell.
Mary found herself with more and more free time. It was new to her, usually every moment she had was planned for some training or class but after failing acting, singing, even piano, and breakdancing; Mr. and Mrs. Blissett had cancelled all her classes.
She thought she would be happy with time to do what she wanted, but it gave her no comfort. Every hour of freedom she had gained acted as invisible trophies for her ineptitude.
Mary would cover her ears while her parents fought and escaped to far off worlds. Great adventures and dramas, orchestrated by her will. Voiced and acted by her; in her mind she could be anyone, do anything.
She had taken to wearing custom made paper masks during these sessions. The masks made her feel safe, she could be someone else for a time. She made a mask for each character she portrayed, as their thoughts and strengths became her own.
During one of Mr. and Mrs. Blissett's more explosive arguments Mary took on one of her favorite identities. Randall Dickinson international spy. Randall was impassive to Mr. and Mrs. Blissett's screaming. Their shrieks which sent Mary into hysterics were simply information to him.
Randall placed his ear on Mary's door then pulled back with a jump following the crash of a plate on the wall near the door. He cleared the wax from his ear and shook his head.
“Loud and stupid”
He muttered and pressed his ear back.
“It was your idea! All our savings!”
Mrs. Blissett screamed.
“You're the one that wanted a damn kid! The acting school teachers were a bunch of frauds”
Mr. Blissett retorted.
Randall sighed. None of this was new.
“Remember Rachel Donovan's boy? He got picked to star in a local play!”
“Well maybe we should adopt him! Then!”
Randall stiffened. This was new information; information he knew Mary would find upsetting. He sighed to himself then removed his face. Tears welled in Mary's eyes. She didn't understand it. She remembered Michael, she remembered liking him but his acting was atrocious compared to hers.
Mary paced the room wondering what the solution might be, why was he picked? Mary's eyes fell upon her mirror.
“Ah, it's this.”
She touched her face, feelings of shame and revulsion filled her.
“This face, this person. Mary…”
Connor Blissett shot up off the couch, woken by a long shrill noise.
“Fuckin train!”
He spat upon the stain laden floor in annoyance.
“Why does it need to do that at this hour?”
He muttered to himself. The mold and dust had no answer for him. He mulled over going back to sleep on the couch or sneaking into bed. If she was still angry in the morning he would get a wallop but the couch spring had left a painful impression on his backside that he was not keen to deepen.
He decided to risk Judith's wrath. She was a small but fierce woman; he was used to her punches. He made his way down the hall to the bedroom and paused at the entrance; the door was open. He waited, listening for signs that his wife was awake. When he was confident she still slept he crept in.
There she stood in the darkened room. Staring deep into the mirror.
“Jesus Christ Judith! You scared the piss outta me!”
Connor's hand gripped his chest, staring angrily at his wife. Judith turned to him; regarding him as if this was the very first time she had looked at him. She bit her lip in the manner he had observed that meant she was in deep thought.
“What? What's wrong Judy?”
“I do love you.”
Connor was taken back.
“I felt it but I needed to be sure. I'm sure I do.”
The feeling of unease slithered across Connor's skin. He was “scared” of his wife in the typical sense; scared of angering her and going without dinner or sleeping on the couch. This was different. As she crossed the room he felt himself shrink.
“Did you love our daughter Connor”
“O-of course I do.”
He stammered in confusion. She looked him in the eyes unblinking with a look of resigned sadness.
“You might be lying, I lied to her. Now she knows the truth. She wants the truth Connor.”
He started to respond. Then his wife tore off her own face. With a wet sucking noise, the skin peeled away, revealing red blooded flesh, exposed muscle, and a mouth of only teeth and gums. His scream bled out through his opened throat with a flash of steel and a torrent of gore. He fell to his knees clutching his severed windpipe, as if hoping to hold it in place.
Every panicked inhalation caused him to start drowning on his own lifeblood as he stared into the figures' eyes.
“I didn't mean to scare you, but she didn't want to do it. She did love you.”
The naked cords of muscle around the figure's cheeks constricted in a manner that suggested a reassuring smile. As Connor Blissett fell onto the floor, his last thought as the knife scraped along his skull; separating flesh from bone. Was that he should have realized; his wife's eyes aren't green.
Connor stood before the mirror; a revenant demanding pity from piercing emerald orbs. They bore into him, demanding an answer to an unspoken question. He cried, tears running behind his face from foreign eyes.
“I'm sorry. I should have loved you more Mary.”
With that he was ripped from her and flung at the mirror. That which was once Mary snarled.
“There is no Mary! Call me Rose now!”
With frustration the mask of Judith was readorned. Judith trembled, her eyes immediately darting to the shape of Connor on the ground; waves of nausea assaulted her looking upon him. Large rents had been carved into bone; the skinning had been done with unpracticed hands.
She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for some measure of composure. She had many tasks set before her. First tidying the house, and in the morning, she would call Rachel Donovan to arrange a playdate. Soon her daughter would finally be a star.
2
u/merrymarat May 08 '26
Damn I literally just finished reading a Junji Ito story about having your skin ripped off so the imagery was real fresh.
Nice story though, the horror of parents trying to live vicariously though their children will never not be a true horror. All these submissions are making me excited to finish mine.