Rumors of Love and Death
The Unmasking of the Red Death, Part Three of Four
“Rumors of Love and Death”
(Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe’s beloved classic short story “Masque of the Red Death” and the television series The Masked Singer.)
~~Sage Nikita Shellanze~~
Day Three saw the elimination of Cricket and Unicorn, and now, only ten remained out of the original twenty singers.
As Sage Nikita Shellanze listened to the clues and performances for the brunch show, she found that she couldn’t focus very well. She tried taking notes and honing her guesses, but inevitably her thoughts kept wandering back to Wolf, who wouldn’t be performing again until the evening.
She had no idea who he was, and he disguised his voice well, but what really puzzled her was his proclamation of love.
After his clues and songs while the panelists were supposed to be guessing, Wolf had interrupted Count Nicolae.
“I have a confession to make, and it can’t wait until next time. I need to say this while I’m safe behind the mask. Sage Shellanze, you have captured my heart for many years. I’ve always admired you from afar, but after all this is over, I’d love to love you from a closer proximity.”
In subsequent performances, the mystery man had also interjected compliments for Nikita, compliments about her looks, her clothes, her smile, her laugh, her eyes, her personality, even her knowledge and wisdom.
As she laughed and blushed and joked, Nikita figured surely her fellow friends and judges thought she was simply playing along and hyping up the masked crowd for the entertainment value. Indeed, she was doing her best to make the investigation as fun as possible, but deep down, she cherished Wolf’s words.
And with each performance, each love song belted from his soft, smooth, deep voice, she felt his passion deeper and deeper, and she realized he wasn’t acting or joking.
And when she acted flattered and interested, she wasn’t joking either.
That fact started to scare her.
Get your head in the investigation, she chastised herself. He might be the intruder! He doesn’t love you and you don’t love him.
Though she was confident in her looks, she knew being both a scholar and a woman with responsibilities (at least, more responsibility than childbearing) made her intimidating to the eligible nobles she’d met.
But now, a man says he loves me for me, not for my body and not for my upper-class family, profession, or status. What if Wolf is being honest? What if he loves me? What if I could love him back? What if—”
“Sage Nikita, what is your guess?” asked Count Nicolae, breaking her reverie.
Quickly, Nikita looked to the stage to remind herself who she was supposed to be guessing.
“Ah, yes, Dragon. You have positively stumped me. After listening rather closely, I think you’re obviously Doctor Kennth’s mother.”
Everyone laughed at her misdirect, which gave her enough time to remember Dragon’s clues from the last few days, and she followed up with her real guess.
At the end of the brunch show, Dragon was eliminated, and the crowd dispersed throughout the monochromatic ballroom chambers. She looked through the throng of masked partiers and saw Wolf at the entrance to the purple room.
This is my chance, she thought. I need to talk to him. Now. Face-to-face while he still has his mask. Then I’ll know if any of this is real or if my feelings are playing tricks on me.
Just as she started walking towards that far door, Nicolae intercepted her.
He said, “Hello Sage. How are you? You seemed a little distracted during today’s show. I—”
“No, no, not distracted. What makes you say that?” She tried peeking around the count to catch a glimpse of Wolf, but he wasn’t standing in the door anymore.
I have to find him.
“Actually,” Count Nicolae said, “you seem distracted right now.”
“Sorry, Count. I need to actually relieve myself soon, or I’ll go mad.”
“I won’t keep you, then. I just wanted to spread the word to you, Robert, Doctor Kenneth, and the duchess. I’d like to meet with you all privately tomorrow morning if we can, early enough to discuss the investigation’s progress before the brunch show.”
“Agreed. Good idea, Nicolae. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
“Right. Sorry. As you were.”
She curtseyed and scurried to the purple chamber. Nikita looked all through the room, as well as through the blue room. She even backtracked to the green room and scoured through the orange, white, and violet rooms, but she couldn’t find Wolf.
“Where could he be? Is he hiding from me? Just avoiding me?”
She eventually gave up her search, got a drink, and settled into a conversation with Duchess Jemma Walters and Countess Mary of Vellenorra, who was just unmasked as the dragon.
Time passed slowly, but eventually the evening show came with buzz and excitement. Her excitement grew, as did the butterflies in her stomach, when she learned that Wolf would be the second singer of the night.
Soon, after a mildly awkward rhythmic poetry chant by Bear, Count Nicolae called Wolf to the stage.
Nicolae said, “Wolf, what are your clues for today?”
“I’ve been in love with Sage Nikita Shellanze for years…since before I understood love at all. My father would take me with him to the king’s court to conduct business, but I never paid attention to the business because my eyes were set, my mind captivated by the countenance of the sage.
“My father, formerly a merchant, had bought a manor and quickly negotiated his vassel-ship with the king. Though we lived a two days’ ride from the King, we went to the capitol often, and I would look for Sage Shellanze every time. In fact, my connection with the sage is unique—my sword was once held by her, and it was initially forged for her as a gift.”
His story drew many gasps and murmurs from the audience, but in spite of his increasingly specific clues, Nikita still didn’t know who he was. She stood.
“Wolf, have we talked with each other before, or are you an admirer I may have never met?”
Count Nicolae said, “You held his sword. You obviously know him.”
“I don’t remember any sword,” she said.
Wolf looked into her eyes. “Yes, Nikita. We’ve talked before. You know me, and I know you. I love you, but I don’t know if you love me.”
The crowd applauded again and the new clue, and Nicolae said, “It is time for Wolf’s song. Orchestra, play!”
Wolf sang from his heart yet again, and Nikita couldn’t help but cry. He loves me. He actually loves me. There’s no way this is an act…
The show ended with the unmasking of Bear, and this time, Nikita stopped for no one and walked with no pretense—she marched directly to Wolf, who had just entered the orange chamber. He started backing away from her until she cornered him between a couch and chair next to the room’s fireplace.
“Sit, Wolf. We need to talk.”
He obeyed. “With all due respect, my dear Sage, is this allowed in the competition?”
“I don’t know if it’s allowed,” she admitted. “Still, I have some questions for you.”
“That’s not how the game works.”
She scooted her chair closer to him. “Fine. One question, then. Will you answer one question for me?”
“For you, yes, I could do that. What would you like to know?”
“I imagine you can’t just tell me who you are, but I think I have an even more important question. A deeper question.”
“Really? I’d love to hear it.” He leaned in, close enough to feel her breath.
Nikita nodded with a smile. “My question: In all of your clues, in everything you’ve said, are you telling the complete truth?”
“Yes. Without a doubt, yes.”
“So, no part of it is an act?”
“I’ve been entirely real and truthful.”
“You actually do love me?”
Barely above a whisper, he said, “With all of my heart. If I didn’t have the mask on, I’d kiss you now.”
She brought her mouth to where she assumed his ear would be and said, “If you didn’t have your mask on, I’d let you.”
Wolf brought his arms around her and embraced. He said, “If either of us had the Red Death, we’d both be dead by this close contact.”
Nikita said, “That’s what this whole masquerade is for, is it not? This quarantine makes it safe for me to do this.” She kissed his mask’s cheek.
“How risky when you don’t know me. How do you know I don’t have the disease and sneaked in with a mask?”
“I don’t know, but I have believed you so far. I believe everything you’ve said is real. If you are an honest man, you wouldn’t be able to infect me.”
“The only thing infectious is this room, Nikita, is my love for you.”
She leaned close to his mask again and breathed to speak when a voice from behind stopped her.
~~Doctor Kenneth Johns~~
“Wolf!” Doctor Kenneth Johns yelled. “What are you doing to my fellow panelist? The Sage Shellanze is dignified, and you are still a contestant. This kind of closeness is forbidden in the competition. I should get Count Nicolae’s guards to unmask you right here and now. Maybe throw you in the count’s dungeon for good measure.”
Wolf stood, backed away, and shrugged with his hands out. “I don’t see any problem here, doctor. If anything, the sage got close to me.”
“Still against the rules,” Doctor Kenneth pointed out. “Now, go to another room. If I see you try anything like that again, I will have you eliminated.”
Wolf scurried out to the next room, knocking over an end table in the process.
Doctor Kenneth turned back to Nikita and froze at her glare.
“What do you think you’re doing, Doctor?”
He said, “I just saved you from that creep.”
“Saved me? He wasn’t threatening me.”
“He was sitting awfully close to you.”
She shrieked, “Did he have a weapon?”
“No.”
“Then I was fine, and you overstepped.” She jabbed a finger to the middle of his chest.
“Sage, you know how serious these times are.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “He might have the disease. If you get the disease, then I’ll get it, as will Robert, Jemma, Nicolae, and everyone else in this house.”
“I know.”
“Then why get close to this man?” He said, pointing to the door Wolf disappeared through. “Don’t tell me you’re actually falling for his act.”
She gasped. “First of all, even if I am, it’s none of your business. Why would you care whom I love or don’t love? Second of all, it’s not an act. Wolf is a kind, honest gentleman. Why shouldn’t I also treat him kindly?”
“He’s an honest man, yes…an honest man wearing a mask, Nikita! Can’t you see? He’s manipulating you.”
“Into what?”
“Maybe he has the disease.”
“I don’t think he does.”
He stepped closer to Nikita. “Maybe he’s really invested in the competition and wants you to be biased and help him win.”
She shoved him back. “Get out of my face. I’m not biased. You’re just jealous.”
Nikita stomped off towards the blue chamber. The doctor started to follow when she put her hand up.
She said, “This conversation is over. Do not follow me.”
He wandered in the opposite direction and mingled with the somehow not bored and not tired masked partiers. He poured himself a drink and sighed.
Truthfully, he didn’t think he was jealous; indeed, he never took the time to consciously think about Nikita in romantic terms, even though he would never deny his attraction to her. But once she said it, he understood the truth.
He was jealous.
He loved her beauty, her mind, her wisdom, her humor. And he couldn’t stand the thought of someone as wise as she falling for a masked singer so easily, so quickly.
Surely she’s not dumb, he thought. Is she desperate? Maybe this plague is making all of us act a little out of character.
He laughed when he realized that he, the former jester, had been taking things more seriously than everyone else, who seemed content to party uninhibitedly in a dangerous, quarantine situation.
The more he thought, the less angry he was. He figured, Nikita’s her own woman, and she can take care of herself. If I even want to consider getting serious about wooing her, acting possessive is not the way to start.
With these thoughts, Doctor Kenneth mingled his way through the rooms and eventually found Robert sitting alone in the black chamber.
“May I join you?” the doctor asked, sitting in a chair beside the sofa where Robert lounged with his lyre.
Robert nodded and started plucking strings, filling the room with an ominous, unfamiliar melody.
After a couple minutes, Kenneth asked, “What are you doing here by yourself?”
Robert kept playing and said, “I’m not by myself. You’re here now.”
“Really, Robert. What are you doing here? Most of people are creeped out by this place.”
He grinned. “That’s funny. I find it relaxing.”
“Why?”
“It reminds me of death. Death is restful and relaxing, is it not?”
“And here I thought you were telling me why it’s not creepy.”
“Creepy is a matter of perspective I suppose.” He laughed.
Doctor Kenneth brought a hand to his chin. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re hiding something?”
Robert sat up straight and set the lyre aside. “I don’t know why you feel that way, Doctor. Here I thought you had all the answers.”
“Well I don’t. We need answers, however, if we’re going to identify the intruder.”
“If the intruder doesn’t win the whole thing.”
Doctor Kenneth tilted his head and crossed his arms. “But why would a probably-infected, masked intruder be so excellent a singer?”
Robert shrugged. “If he wasn’t a good singer, we’d’ve figured it out the first night, right?”
“Never mind.” Doctor Kenneth turned to leave the room, but he paused and said, “I still think you might be hiding something. If you are, please share it when we meet with Count Nicolae tomorrow morning.”
“Fine. Any more prescriptions, Doctor?”
“No.”
Kenneth exited the room as Robert resumed playing his lyre. He spent much of the rest of the night piecing together the clues from the remaining singers.
However, as he went to sleep, his thoughts returned to the lovely sage.
~~Duchess Jemma Walters~~
The clock struck nine in the morning while the judges met with Count Nicolae in his personal study.
As the chime died down and laughs bubbled through the room, Duchess Jemma Walters was looking out the window towards the castle’s front gate.
“Jemma,” Nicolae said, “I just received word that my messenger has returned. We’re keeping him outside the gates as a precaution. All his news was written on a scroll, and the apothecary is working on a potion to sanitize it as we speak. After that, it’s coming straight here.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Count.”
“Now, the main reason why I called you all here. Eight singers remain. What clues have you picked up on our intruder? He or she must be one of those eight.”
Kenneth said, “You should know the last seven names, right? After all, you sent the custom invitations. Why don’t you just tell us the seven names?”
Nicolae replied, “I’m trying to honor my word, which promised a degree of anonymity. Plus, I don’t want you biased towards any names in your investigation. Also, with my knowledge of the remaining names, I cannot tell who our extra person is. It just doesn’t make sense.”
Nikita said, “Worry not, Count. We will all know, soon enough. Just a few days, the game will be over.”
“I don’t want the intruder to win.”
Robert said, “We might not have a choice. All our remaining performers can carry a tune.”
“Duchess,” Count Nicolae said, “would you be able to tell me your suspicions? Besides myself, I think you know the most people in the noble class out of anyone here.”
“I’d be happy to.”
She went through her entire list, and the whole group discussed. Through the process, Jemma realized how much she was enjoying the game, her knowledge of the kingdom’s gossip finally an asset.
She also realized the others all seemed distracted. Robert kept mentioning his desire to return to the clock. Nikita and Kenneth were barely acknowledging each other. Nicolae knew how to put on a show, but she could even sense his profound fear bubbling just beneath his surface.
I need to maintain a level head, she thought. The others are off their game. If they miss something, I need to get it.
She was positively focussed, attentive, motivated, and excited. That is, until the meeting ended twenty minutes before the brunch show, and one of Nicolae’s servants entered with a scroll.
The news came swiftly and sharply—her husband was dead.
The entire world seemed to crumble around Jemma. In an instant, the castle she’d grown to love as a quirky vacation inn became a taunting prison to her.
He’s dead…he’s dead…and we’re next. How long did we think we could hide from this thing?
Nicolae embraced her. “Don’t give up hope, my friend. We’re here together, safe from the plague. You are the most positive friend I have. I can’t afford for you to lose hope, because if you do, I will crumble as well. We have to believe we’re safe here. We have no choice.
Between sobs, she said, “I’ll try. I’ll try.”
“We’re here, alive, and that’s what counts.”
She also received hugs from Doctor Kenneth, Sage Nikita, Robert, and several of Nicolae’s servants, from his designer to his orchestra conductor, to his head chef.
Jemma felt the support enough to pretend to be okay. She made it through the brunch show and the evening show behind an invisible mask of her own. The partiers who didn’t know her personally would never have been able to guess how her life was spiraling.
Sheep and Pheasant were eliminated and joined the revelers unmasked, and soon everyone, contestants and not, danced through most of the chambers. Jemma joined the mob with enough drink to numb the pain.
I can’t think about him right now…I have to be there for Nicolae…
After the clock struck midnight, many of the partiers went to bed while others prepared for another round of fun. The orchestra left for bed, but she heard music still echoing—music from an angelic voice that pulled her to its source.
The duchess didn’t even realize where the music was leading her stumbling, drunken self until she found herself in the seventh chamber. Robert Thissler stood in front of the clock, facing the clock, less than a yard away from it.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
He turned and said, “Hello Jemma. I’ve been waiting for you. Singing for you. This song is for you. Do you like it?”
In truth, she couldn’t remember any of the lyrics, only the feeling of the song, the passion with an undercurrent of sadness—it reminded her of the ocean, so beautiful, vast, awe-inspiring, yet destructive, powerful, inevitable.
Robert said, “I asked if you like it. Please answer, because I know you like it. I can see it in your eyes. You want to numb the pain. I want to help you.”
“No,” Jemma said.
“This may be your last chance, Duchess.”
She balked. “Are you threatening me?”
“May I tell you a secret? I discovered something interesting about this room, about this clock. It’s telling me—”
“No!” she screamed. “I don’t want to hear about your creepy fascinations. I can numb my own pain just fine, thank you.”
Jemma stormed out of the room and flung herself in the middle of a group of masked, dancing partiers. She twirled and shook and leapt, stumbling through the whole thing.
She didn’t know how long she danced and drank, but she suddenly felt an urgent need to relieve herself. She made her way through the chambers and through a side-door that led to the castle’s women’s bathroom.
Though Nicolae’s luxury stopped short of running water, there were servants always stationed outside the door ready to assist in whatever way, which included fetching water for a bath or providing supplies for the lavatory.
She burst into the room and stopped at the mirror over the wash basin.
Suddenly, before she could control herself, Jemma puked into the basin, and for a while she just stood there, breathing, embarrassed about the mess. Finally, she looked at her reflection, gasped, and covered her mouth, shocked at her own visage.
After all, her reflection was covered in bright red dots.
“No…we’re in quarantine…it’s impossible.”
Jemma looked over her hands and arms and legs, every part of her not covered by clothing, and she couldn’t see any red, nothing even hinting at the Red Death.
Yet her reflection, moving in concert with her, was blanketed with them.
“I’m seeing things,” she said. “That’s it. I’m stressed, I’m drunk, and I’m seeing things. I’m okay. I’m safe and sound in the impenetrable Villa Apsconditum. Ha!”
She sneezed, too quickly for her to cover her mouth, and droplets of blood sprayed the mirror.
Jemma froze. She felt liquid drip from her nose, and she wiped with her hand, and the hand was stained red.
More blood.
She coughed and tasted blood. Then, she wept, sobbing for her husband, for herself, for the world caving in around her. Eyes shut and leaking red tears, she fell to the floor and moaned.
Her crying didn’t stop until she stopped breathing and her heart stopped beating.
Dead.
TO BE CONTINUED
