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Mask of Deceit

The perfect love. The perfect life. A bright future ahead of them, that is until fate and a case of mistaken identity steps in. Juliana’s world is turned upside down when her husband, Paul is brutally murdered in the darkness of an alleyway in Venice; she is raped and left for dead while the sounds of the Masked Carnival and the killers laughter fills the air. The only thing that keeps Juliana going is the memories of a perfect love, and her deep desire for vengeance. With the help of her father, the killers are tracked down, one by one and on the anniversary of Paul’s death, with the sounds of the Carnival in the background, the killers come face to face with the Mask of Deceit, and pay the ultimate price at the hands of a woman who is dead inside. With the words of her dead husband ringing in her ears. “Use the knife my love, put the animal out of its misery. Cut its throat.” Juliana moves between two different worlds. One that was filled with love, joy and hope for the future. The other filled with pain and death as she uses the blade on her path of revenge and thirst for vengeance. “There Paul my love, I showed the animal mercy... I cut its throat.” From the backdrop of the Carnival in Venice to the African bush, the world that Paul loved she moves like an avenging angel dispensing her brand of justice and spilling the blood of the men that ruined her life. Her appetite for torture knows no bounds as each one is taken to the very edge before being sent to hell. As each one dies at her hand she moves closer to closure but has she stepped over the edge from sanity to insanity... will the killing continue once the last is shown mercy and she uses the blade to show the animal mercy or will she heed Pauls call and join him once again.

Paul Zunckel · Horror
Not enough ratings
28 Chs

Chapter28

#Chapter28

The Lear jet climbs into the clear blue sky, leaving Venice, the Masked Carnival and the nightmares of Paul’s murder, the loss of their unborn child and her violent rape behind, the last of the four tied to a four poster bed, ripped apart in a frenzy of bloodlust and fury by the dagger, and too late the man known as a playboy, and answering to the name of Andre realized that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, for he had been sent into the very pits of hell, where he belonged.

The last thing he ever saw before the blade of mercy cut his heart tattoo in half and slit his throat wide open, showing him mercy, in the end, was the green eyes flashing down at him, void of emotion behind the mask of deceit.