Damon pulled on his black skull, the teeth in the mouth looking like claws. Will handed Michael his red one with deep black gashes across the face that were just as vicious as the gnawed lips. Will tossed me my metallic silver mask with slits for the eyes that were small and dark, and the gouges in the skin mean and hard. Then he slipped on the white one with a red stripe down the side of the face. All of us looked like some postapocalyptic death squad, which suited the egos of a bunch of spoiled, rich boys who never really knew danger.
