The Masked Artist - SurrenderMature

"W-where am I..?"

Jim panicked suddenly appearing in the strange room. Was this the afterlife? Had he died somehow? No, he needed to get back! His sister needed him! He needed to wash her hair and take care of her clothing. No one but him could do it, so he couldn't be dead!

"Jim Heron Johnson."

Jim tried to move his head, but found he was stuck standing there. This was bad... Had he been caught? He knew people didn't like his sister but... Why had he been caught? What was going to happen?

"When you were young, you and your sister witnessed horrors that eventually led to you killing her-"


"-and the result was your mind splitting and half of it taking on every bit of repressed memories you had to form a personality akin to your murdered sister, whom was a serial killer."

"Shut up!" Jim yelled, still unable to move. 

"Learning a form of movement called 'freerunning,' you became quite talented in becoming a serial killer. You're nickname is 'the Masked Artist.'"

"I said shut up!"

"Can you bring out your other personality?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

A small man in robes walked around to where Jim could see him. "It's a pity," the man said as he looked at some sort of paper. They had to have messed up their research to come think of Jim this way. "You will need to head to the armory and then the arena. I don't expect you to win, though, without your 'sister.'"

"Damn you!" Jim yelled. The man ignored him and simply left, though. 


As the little man had said, Jim had been released and led to an armory. Honestly, he couldn't even begin to guess where he had been taken. Who in the world had collected pretty much every weapon from 1400's  that didn't shoot? And why did they let Jim pick his own weapons? He couldn't even use a...

Those knives were pretty cool.


The arena was just as Jim pictured it; a large open field with packed dirt surrounded by a massive amount of people cheering. Boy, this was just... off. Jim wasn't even scared anymore with how surreal this felt. Maybe it was just one of those realistic dreams people had? 

"The next fight is between two killers!"

Speakers? Definitely a dream if a medieval arena had electrical devices....

"The first is the Masked Artist!" Again with that name!? "He has split personalities, folks. On one side, he's a mild mannered brother with a hobby of writing stories, on the other.... He's a killer that takes out his targets and makes them into works of art!"

A lot of 'boo's' came from that, not that Jim was surprised. These people were using false information to make him out to be someone he wasn't. Jim was a writer, for Pets's sake, not a killer, let alone a serial killer! I needed to get out of here. Dream or not, I didn't want to be killed over something like this.

"His opponent is the Slave Assassin! Despite what that sounds like he-"


The whole crowd went silent from Jim's shout. There. That'll teach them. Even if Jim was in a tournament against his own will, they would never make him walk into a slaughter. It was bad for business, right? Well, Jim hoped this was the case...

"OK, then folks, we have a surrender! Welcome to Serenity, contestant Masked Artist!"

Wait, what? 

The End

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