The Silver Mask – Part 9


Once the tenth beer can was empty, Daniel flung it to the other side of the room only to almost topple out of his chair due to his drunkenness. The memories were hazy now, Daniel was more or less safe. He was desperately fighting sleep, however. Sleep was a time when his recollections of the destruction that the Silver Mask had wreaked upon his life were extremely vivid and completely uncontrollable. He got up and tried to walk to the bathroom but his intoxication overcame him. He collapsed in a heap, and within minutes his mind was drenched in unwanted memory once again.


Daniel rushed into the hospital and asked for the doctor that had treated Bethany. Thankfully he was in, but had a surgery going on at the moment. Daniel was told to wait for him to be finished after which he could talk to him.

With no other choice in front of him, Daniel decided that he would just sit and wait. Thankfully, the surgery that the doctor was performing was not that intensive and he was out after an hour or so. As soon as he saw him, Daniel rushed up to him.

“Doc,” he said, “I need your help.”

“What do you mean?” asked the doctor.

“I need Bethany’s medical report,” said Daniel.

“What for?” asked the doctor.

“I gave the mask to this private forensic lab. The analyst there detected no trace of drugs or anything like that on the mask, but when he put it on while fooling around he ended up experiencing the exact same psychotic episode that Bethany had.”

“I see,” said the doctor, placing his hands on the reception desk and descending into a thoughtful silence. “So what are you going to do now?”

“I am going to take all of this to the police,” said Daniel. “Whether or not there were drugs on that mask, the fact of the matter is that two people have suffered the exact same symptoms after putting it on, so the police should definitely be interested, right?”

“I don’t know,” said the doctor. “They might think that you’re crazy. They might think that this is a coincidence.”

“That’s why I need the other medical file,” said Daniel. “The analyst that put the mask on, his name is Harvey Smith. He must have been admitted to the ER just an hour or two ago. Can you get me that file?”

“I can’t,” said the doctor. “I can’t just give you someone else’s file.”

“But how am I going to prove that someone else suffered the same symptoms without it?” asked Daniel.

The doctor sighed and spread his hands. “I don’t know, Daniel. I really wish I could help. I’ll give you Bethany’s file at least, that should be of some help right?”

“Yeah,” said Daniel. “Thanks, I guess.”

He collapsed onto the chair again and sighed. What was he going to do now?