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Hello all! I just thought I'd share a little creepypasta I've written. I got a few compliments on it and after watching the creepypasta segments, I decided to post it here and share it with everyone. This is actually the first creepypasta I've ever written and I based it off of a few theories I had. I hope it's enjoyable.

The Creepypasta Edit

The Price of Happiness
By: Melly

He has been asked many questions from the mouths of the curious. To which, he had an affinity towards keeping them mystified in riddle, but perhaps, just once he would indulge you in a little secret. How does he have all of these masks, you may ask?

The answer is quite simple.

The man has a very morbid job, you see. He is the most deplorable of men, walking the streets under disguise as the most humble of beings. In fact, you would never suspect him to do the things that he does for fun.

What does he do for ‘fun’, you ask?

He offers you a way out of life at the cost of his own humanity. You see, he once obtained a cursed object. He took it without realizing the consequences. It was the most powerful of his material possessions, but over time it proved to dig him farther and farther into the pit of madness. Soon, they spoke to him. The voices whispered sweet words of malice into his ears. At first, he couldn’t make out what they were saying but as the days slowly went by, they became louder. Their words were more pronounced and rung in his head with a clarity that was riveting. They gave him the most sinister of ideas, a way to utilize his talents to make the most special of masks.

No longer would he be a peddler of illusions that brought joy, but a proprietor of happiness.

Ah yes, he remembered the day that he created the first of his new masks. The first of many who could not see the joy his masks brought. Such an unsuspecting man who had no true purpose in the world, but that did not mean that he wasn’t without purpose to him. Oh yes, he would come to have a new purpose entirely.

Upon refusing to buy a mask, he found himself waking up. How his heart must have been pounding in his chest at that moment! He rapidly glanced from left to right, as if he were searching for a way out of the dark room. The hell of the abyss clung around him. The sweat glistened over his body, and fear threatened to overwhelm his senses.

"You have certainly tested your fate." His captor spoke to him simply, with words twisted in a shroud of happiness, and walked towards the man. It was truly a shame that it had to come to this, a most unfortunate turn of events.

He had answered the life-changing question wrong, and it was time for the customer to pay the ultimate price for happiness. After all, he most certainly couldn’t let him out now. It would be better if he simply disappeared, never to be heard from again.

He couldn’t risk any evidence lingering around, so he made sure to drag him to the back end of his shop, concealed in a small room away from the prying eyes of the public. The silence was thick in the air around his seemingly quaint little shop.

By now, the man felt himself grow heavy. It was far from comparable to drowsiness, as if weights were pressing down on his body and rendered him immobile. One would have thought that he would have been disturbed by such a thing, and yet he was not. How long had he been locked up? Did it truly matter? All he could see was a blur of depressing color as his pupils darted around the room desperately. Where was he? Was he dreaming?

He eyes darted to his hands and legs that were secured by metal clasps and began to struggle violently against his restraints, letting out a few disgruntled noises in a failed effort. Then they darted to a slim figure, standing there with his hands clasped together and pointed ears with an eerie grin on his face. He stared at that figure with that piercing grin and eyes the color of blood.

"There is nothing but endless opportunity to sleep. One mustn’t waste it now." With those words, the helpless customer felt a block of ice descending to his stomach and he was overcome with pure dread by that sickeningly happy tone.

"Please, let me go….I haven’t done anything." He attempted to plea, but his words were lost in darkness.

"I am afraid there is no need for such a thing. For all incidents in life, there are dire consequences for your decisions." Upon hearing those words, the man’s eyes exploded with fear as he saw something glint from the light of the moon that shone through the window. The moon was his lone companion, peeking in the window like a silent witness who would never tell what it’s seen.

The voice spoke in the smiling man’s head once more, now with more clarity than ever. “I…I shall consume. Consume…consume everything.” Over and over the voice spoke in his head, and he could do nothing but continue to smile. It was best that way. That smile was his sanctity. It hid his true intentions from the world. It was okay to smile when you felt as if you had lost it all, that your very humanity was gone. Keep smiling. Yes, in order to wade through the bad times in life, smiles gave the strength to pull through. If he simply smiled, it would show his true endurance.

The knife was dug into the customer’s face as his chin was held with a death-like grip. He couldn’t be allowed to move during this process. Oh, how he hated imperfections in his masks. He screamed as the blood welled up around the blade. The cold metal made it’s way around, slicing muscle and tendons, prying the skin away from the face. It nearly made the customer’s eyes roll back in his head. The smiling figure took it in with intense fascination. It was a hot, throbbing pain, amplified with each ragged breath. It scrapped the tissue away with meticulous precision.

Slowly his blood drained and his screams died. The sound of destruction was slowly dying down, quelling the voices in his head. This dark deed felt so good…so alive, and yet he noticed it. His dear customer looked so unhappy. Didn’t he know that his face would be immortalized for all time, a mask of it’s own worn to make others happy? That would be his true purpose! It was his higher place in life to become a charade for another to hide their identity behind. He should have found it a humble gesture. He would bring others happiness, and through that, the Happy Mask Salesman would then too, become happy.

Pain was only temporary, and his Song of Healing would allow his special powers to be left behind in a stunning mask after his own image. This was how he had acquired many powerful masks, from those who refused to purchase them.

It had been that way ever since acquiring the legendary Majora’s Mask. After all, A puppet that could no longer be used was mere garbage.


-END-

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