The Man In The Mask

Cooper's POV

I sit in my office as I mull over the events of three weeks, six days, eleven hours, twenty-three minutes, and thirty-four seconds ago in my head. I remember coming out to the alley. I remember seeing pitch-black hair that he immediately wrapped up in some black material. I remember the electrifying blue of his eyes when he turned around to face me. I remember the trash bag flying at my face and then rupturing and pouring its rancid contents all over my body.

I remember that bastard disappearing like a fucking phantom and then reappearing behind me. I remember the world fading to black as I saw the most beautiful and mesmerizing green eyes watching me from behind a dumpster. I remember coming to as my chief doused me with a bucket of ice-cold water. I remember the numbness I felt when I found out that while I 'took a nap on taxpayer dollars', someone stole my gun and shot my partner in cold blood.

I remember his funeral where his wife called me a 'cowardly cunt' and kicked me out. I remember trying to find this motherfucker and failing miserably. I remember two weeks ago when I got promoted to detective so that none of the old-timers would 'allegedly' shove the nozzle of their shotguns into my ass while I'm in the shower.

I remember all of this and only one thing is clear in my mind, 'I fucking hate the guy in the mask'. My 11:00 pm brooding in my office with the lights dimmed and the blinds closed is suddenly interrupted by my new partner.

"Get the fuck up faggot, there's a lady here to see you. Said she might be the witness you're looking for or some shit like that" Rudy says as he barges into my office

"Thanks, Rudy, I'll be out there to question her in a sec," I say with a smile as I try to adjust to the fact that he might still be grieving my partner's death.

"I didn't do it for you, you weak dickhead. I did it cause you kept the lady waiting while you were in here doing your daily 'I'm trying to solve the mystery of the man from that night' shtik, well newsflash buddy, there was no one there, you're just scared to admit that will's death is your fucking fault. Also come to think about it, what case is the woman a witness to?" he asks with a stern face

"Just some case I'm working on. You don't need to help I can handle this on my own" I say as I pick my stuff from my table and proceed to the door but Rudy's outstretched hand traps me in my office.

"This better not be about that imaginary guy who allegedly 'choked you'. Chief Thomas asked you to stop looking into that shit or he's going to can your ass. So if you're going to continue down this path then from now on you're on your own, and if I get in fucking trouble cause of your shit then you better believe that I'm going to be gunning for you with a quickness that you're never going to see coming and that's a definite threat. Feel free to report me to internal affairs" he says and then walks out and I won't lie, getting threatened is kind of getting old. In the past three weeks, I've had food thrown at me, a dead skunk nailed to my door, a pot of blood poured all over me with a very clear message behind it 'will's blood is on your hands'. And don't even get me started on the drive-by which quickly turned into a 'he matched the description of a perp and when we arrived at the scene he reached for a weapon so we opened fire' even though I was screaming 'I'm a cop' for 25 minutes while they just kept replying 'we know'.

I pull myself out of the painful and frankly very traumatic memories and move to the interview room to meet the witness but when I step in she isn't anything at all like what I had expected.

A lot of things seem to surprise me but frankly, I should have seen this one coming. I walk in to see a slightly obese woman in her 30s with 3 little kids in various states of disarray running around her. But the more surprising thing is the 6-year-old in her lap with his mouth clamped around her nipple.

"Are you detective Cooper Johnson?" she asks in surprisingly perfect Victorian English

"Yes," I say as I reach out my hand and shake her pudgy, greasy hand.

Without another word spoken she reaches into her bag and pulls out a small circular device that projects an image in perfect clarity onto the wall to our left.

I turn to see a psycho with piercing electric blue eyes wearing what can only be described as someone else's face.

"I wonder how stupid you must be to look for me at the expense of your own life," he says as fresh blood from the mask drips into his mouth but it doesn't phase me cause I've finally found him.

"Not stupid. Just extremely motivated to put you in the ground" I reply through gritted teeth

"My my how rude of you, officer. And they said the police are to serve and protect, but I don't feel protected officer" he says with faux surprise which I don't buy

"We serve and protect people, not monsters" I quickly reply which draws out what can only be described as a high-pitched giggle making out with a potential case of lung cancer.

"Au contraire my little Dragonslayer. I am not a monster, it is just a role I must take up till the mission is done" he replies while tugging the edges of the mouth hole of his face mask into a bloody smile

"Oh really? Well your fresh face mask tells me otherwise" I reply with so much spite that he actually looks taken aback for a minute

"Oh, how you've hurt my soul. I see no point in stretching out needless conversation so I'll cut right to it. If you continue to look for me, I will make you one of my many faces, that is after I've put you in so much pain that even in death, you'll have a permanent look of anguish on your face" he says with a stare that would burn holes in a normal human being.

"Good luck with that you bastard. I am coming for you, and when I find you God so help me I'm going to riddle you with enough bullet holes to turn your backbone into a decorative flute" I say with a devilish grin born of the lovely time I spent on the dark side.

Determined to have the last word I pull out my gun and shoot the projector to pieces. minutes later I'm surrounded by cops with guns pointed at me, and 2 hours later I clear out my desk as I begin my 'unpaid suspension'.

But as I clean the eggs and turds off of my car, I smile because I now have a focus. the man in the mask should have really considered his surroundings before our little chat.

'Liberty island is going to be painted red tonight' I think to myself as I zoom off despite the deflated tires of my car.