Jane awoke with a jolt, the faintest whisper echoing in the stillness of her room. Her heart thudded as she searched for its source, tossing aside blankets and peering beneath her bed—nothing. But the whisper came again, persistent, coaxing. Holding her breath, Jane strained to catch its direction. “Hey, over here!” the voice called out, low yet distinct. She turned to her closet and froze. A mask—grotesque and lifelike—rested on the chair, its features shifting as if animated by some unseen force.

“I was dropped off here last night,” the mask murmured, lips moving. “Someone is going to die. Who? Well, that’s the thrill of the game. I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

Fear prickled Jane’s skin. “What do you mean, someone is going to die? Do you know who?” she demanded, voice trembling.

“No clue,” the mask replied, its tone unsettlingly casual. “My job’s just to help things along. So, let’s begin.”

Jane recoiled, grappling with the surreal reality—a talking mask, death hanging in the air like a storm cloud. “Wait, wait! I’m talking to a mask that claims someone unknown is going to die?”

“Exactly,” the mask said. “We need to move on. You get to ask questions, and I answer. As we go deeper, we might be able to change who gets chosen.”

Jane hesitated. “The outcome can change? Could it be… me?”

“Yes,” the mask replied with hollow certainty. “You could be the one. Ten questions, thirty minutes. If you ask all the right ones, no one dies. This time will vanish as if it never happened. I don’t make the rules, nor do I control the answers. The power is yours, but you have to look within—think about the past five years.”

Jane’s mind raced. “Is this person related to me?”

“Not by blood, but deeply connected.”

“Were we close? Did we have a falling out?”

“Yes. The fallout shattered them, left them buried in darkness.”

“Have I known this person for a long time?”

“All your life. But you only knew the surface. Never the depths.”

“Wait—I’ve only asked a few questions!” Jane protested.

“Seven, actually,” the mask said, its eyes glinting. “No practice questions. Three remain. Choose wisely.”

Jane’s nerves frayed. “Was this person my best friend?”

“Yes.”

The truth hovered near, but uncertainty lingered. The mask’s eyes narrowed. “You get only one guess.”

Jane took a trembling breath. “Is it my childhood best friend?” As she spoke, her vision blurred. Darkness crept in. She slumped into the chair, slipping into unconsciousness.

“No. It was you,” the mask whispered, sorrow heavy in its voice.

Later, Jane’s sister arrived for their weekly lunch, only to find Jane motionless in the chair. Panic set in. Emergency workers rushed her to the hospital, machines taking over the work of keeping her alive.

Within the quiet void of her mind, Jane found herself in a sterile, white room. The mask appeared, translucent and spectral, floating before her.

“Am I dead?” Jane asked, voice thin, fragile.

“Not technically,” the mask answered. “Your mind collapsed, like a black hole. You’re trapped inside, able only to absorb. Years of neglect have eroded who you are; this was always the consequence lurking under the surface. You thought the death would be physical, but really, it was your spirit that had faded.”

The mask’s features softened. “This is your forever home. I must go now. Goodbye,” it whispered, fading into the ether as Jane drifted deeper into the silence of her own mind.