”“Be patient honey.”Hannah picked up her new toy and started to unscrew it with the special Allen type key.“What’s that?”“Let me show yo....”Hannah then took the small, one inch long device and held it against the bottom of Tom’s nose. With one curved bar inside each of his nostrils, she slowly tightened the screw so that the bars closed around the small strip of gristle at the base of his nose.“Does that hurt?”“No. What is it?”“What about now?”Hannah continued to turn the key very slowly until. He could feel the gazes from all those empty eyes, could almost sense the intelligence behind them, the people they had been. He shook his head. He knew his imagination was working overtime again. He knew that they were only lifeless objects, the images of the people who had died here. That was all they could be.The last mask victim, the one he had seen in the flesh, was Steven. He was an artiste, they had told him. He painted, and carved rock, and jogged and cycled. His body was like a Greek. More

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