The air shimmered with the pulsating glow of neon lights, their colors refracting through a thin layer of mist that clung to the streets of Sable City. It was a night like no other — the annual Masquerade Festival, where kids and adults alike roamed the crowded boulevards dressed in elaborate costumes. Towering skyscrapers loomed overhead, their metallic frames reflecting fragmented rainbows, creating a surreal, almost dreamlike backdrop. Every corner buzzed with excitement, the smell of caramelized sweets mingling with the faint scent of ozone from the distant rainfall.
Among the throng was twelve-year-old Nora Ashen, wearing her meticulously crafted cosplay costume — a shining silver breastplate overlaid with intricate engravings, a flowing navy blue cape, and thigh-high armored boots. Her short red hair stuck out defiantly from beneath a crown-like headpiece that caught the light like shattered glass. Her piercing green eyes darted from stall to stall, taking in every detail of the festivities. To her, it wasn’t just a festival; it was an escape.
“Stick close to me,” her older brother, Case Ashen, warned, his voice sharper than he intended. He was dressed far more casually in jeans, sneakers, and a dark hoodie pulled low over his brown wavy hair, though a faux sword hung casually at his hip. At sixteen, Case had long outgrown the magic of the masquerade and now played the reluctant role of protector. His tall, lean build and steely expression, however, gave him an air of a brooding knight.
“I’m not a baby, Case.” Nora rolled her eyes, adjusting her cape for the third time. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to look like you’re having fun? It’s a festival!”
He sighed, glancing around uneasily, his fingers brushing the hilt of his costume sword. Something about the night felt… wrong. The festival always drew huge, colorful crowds, and kids in cosplay were as much a tradition as the glowing lanterns dotting the streets. But this year, there had been whispers — rumors of strange disappearances, children reported missing after the event, their costumes later found abandoned in bizarre locations.
A haunting violin melody drifted over the noise of the streets, and Nora turned toward the source, her cape billowing behind her. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.
“Hear what?” Case said, scanning the crowd. The violin continued, haunting and seductive, leading Nora toward an alley between two buildings. The shadows there seemed thicker than they should be, swelling and writhing as though alive. In the dim light of the alley, a figure stood at the far end, dressed in a dark cloak shimmering like oil under the moon. A white porcelain mask hid their face, its expression fixed in a frozen, hollow smile.
“Nora, stop!” Case grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back before she could take another step. His voice was tight, laced with panic. “We’re getting out of here. Now.”
But the figure in the shadows tilted its head, and the violin’s melody twisted into something sharp, discordant. The shadows surged forward like a living tide, slithering along the ground and wrapping around Nora’s legs. She screamed as Case yanked her away, slicing at the tendrils with his faux sword, which suddenly felt unnervingly real in his grip. The blade flashed bright lightning-blue as it sliced through the shadows, cutting them like paper.
“Run, Nora!” he shouted, his own heart hammering against his ribs. Nora stumbled, breaking free from the shadows, and bolted back toward the safety of the crowd. Case was right behind her, but the masked figure raised a hand. A surge of dark energy lashed out, knocking him to the ground. Pain shot through his side as he rolled to dodge a second attack.
“Leave him alone!” Nora yelled, tears streaming down her face. She clutched a small, glowing medallion hanging around her neck — an heirloom from their late mother, who always told her it would protect her in moments of great danger. As the masked figure advanced toward Case, Nora gritted her teeth, raised the medallion, and screamed. Light erupted from it, blinding in its intensity, and the shadows recoiled with an otherworldly shriek.
The figure staggered but vanished into the darkness before Nora could completely banish them. The violin music faded, leaving only the muffled chatter of the crowd, blissfully unaware of the battle that had just unfolded mere steps away. Nora dropped to her knees, trembling, as Case scrambled to his feet and pulled her into a tight embrace.
“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” he asked, his voice a choked mixture of fear and relief. She shook her head, unable to speak but clinging to him tightly.
“We’re going home,” he said firmly, helping her to her feet. “I don’t care what the festival means to anyone. It’s not safe here.”
As they limped back toward the main avenue, their costumes dirtied and torn, Nora glanced over her shoulder toward the alley. The shadows were still, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the porcelain mask was watching her, smiling its hollow, empty smile.
For the rest of the night, the sound of the violin lingered in her ears, teasing a question she wasn’t yet ready to ask: why had the shadows come for her?
The Source…check out the article that inspired this amazing short story: Is it safe for kids to wear cosplay?
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