Big party at Thomas R's house, half older professional types and half freaky employees, not much intermingling. I am concerned with finishing four exquisite pewter masks, each which represents a different character, three of which have little smooth red orbs for eyes. The fourth has narrow slits for eyes, a large brow, and a sneaky grin. I explain each character to someone I work with: the fourth mask is Maradin, the shapeshifter. It is late, and the neighborhood outside the house is dark and silent, but people still socialize gently in various parts of the house. I put the masks on a wall above a dark purple couch, no one sees me do it, but some of my coworkers know that I am the one who made them-- no, not made them: I've only "finished them."
The older people find them and immediately hate them. In a short period of time, 7 of these people are murdered. I know that I committed the 7th murder, and still hold the razor blade I used to slash the man's throat in my pocket... but my memory is not right and I am unclear as to whether I was responsible for all of them. Well, in a way I don't feel responsible for any of them-- it has something to do with the masks, I never would have decided to kill anybody on my own. Thomas and the remaining guests suspect the masks and the murders are linked as well, and the police are called. "Don't say anything to the cops, it can only hurt you, even if you haven't done anything wrong" I tell myself. They come and look through the house-- the cops interview the older folks and ignore the rest of us for now, although none of us are allowed to leave the building. No one seems willing or ready to indicate that I have played a pivotal role in the appearance of the four masks. I decide to escape. I leave through the backyard, ducking my head wildly whenever I see movement in the windows.
I am in a car for a while. I decide that I need to go back in. Somehow, the fourth mask is suddenly in my possession. I put it on. I can look like anybody I want to. I look like somebody else, just a random face I have never seen, and go back in the house. Then I take the mask off and look like Rjyan again. A cop notices me sitting on the couch-- I'm too afraid to feel for the razor, lest the police notice. I go into another room and answer two easy questions before returning to my original strategy: "Look, shouldn't I have a lawyer here before I say anything at all to you?" The cops aren't pleased but they don't turn up the pressure.. the agree that I can have a lawyer and go to question someone else elsewhere. The fourth mask is back on the wall, but I don't remember putting it there.
