Creature of the Night

by Anne Stinnett

  “There is much to come,” Nodin said. “It is true, you would have enjoyed Eleanor.”

  “For what it’s worth,” Chaz said to Portia, “I thought your Ophelia was inspired.”

  “Yes,” Delia said. “We must, at some point, rouse ourselves to watch some of your film.”

  Portia managed a smile. “I’d be honored.”

  “Step back,” Nodin said.

  “Celeste,” Delia said. “We know your purpose, but your performance, while not special, was not an embarrassment. You may step back.”

  Vlad perked up. “I would—”

  “You won’t,” Delia interjected.

  “Two of you are safe,” Chaz said. “The other two—”

  “We are beginning to resemble the sound and the fury,” Delia said. “Madeline and Jeff are eliminated.”

  “We have a process, Delia,” Chaz said. “There’s an envelope.”

  “Then get on with it.”

  “Cassie and Kannon,” Chaz said. “You disgraced yourselves, but luck was with you. Others behaved far more unfortunately. Step back but be warned, we expect better.” Kannon and Cassie scurried to take their places in the desirable line.

  The front row now consisted of Madeline and Jeff. Madeline reached for Jeff’s hand. Jeff took a half step to the side, putting himself beyond her reach.

  “We were nearly finished,” Delia said. “The process was becoming excruciating and is not necessary for its own sake.”

  “They must be told why—”

  “The male pissed himself, and the other one spent the entire night praying,” Edmund said, indicating Jeff and Madeline respectively. “I would have thought even humans possessed that much reason. You should know we’re going to have to throw your coffin away.”

  Jeff sank to his knees and started to cry. Madeline stared blankly at some point in the air. Chaz called the girls to wrest the losers off the stage.

  The audience erupted with a nice mix of cheers for those moving on and abuse for Jeff and Madeline.

  “The contestants are headed back to the Manor for a little down time before their next challenge, but there is one thing they’re going to do before they rest.”

  “Now make them confess! Now they must confess! We want them to confess! Confess! Confess! Confess!”

  “The chanting starts to grate sooner every season,” Delia said.

  “Exactly right,” Chaz told the crowd. “After each challenge, the contestants will head back to the Manor where they are staying for the duration of the competition. There, they will have time to rest and get to know one another. They will also be participating in confessionals where they will share their thoughts and feelings as our journey progresses. So we all have a chance to check in, hear how they’re doing, and judge them for whatever inner turmoil they choose to express.”

  The crowd screamed with excitement.

  “We’ll see you back here tomorrow night for the second challenge,” Chaz said. “For those of you who are staying in the CreatureLand Hotel, the shuttles are standing by to whisk you to gothic paradise.”

  The judges disappeared the same way they had arrived, as one.

  “We better run for the shuttle,” Cyri’s dad said. “We don’t want to miss the first confessional.” Cyri sighed and followed her father. Behind her, she could hear Chaz calling goodnights to the departing crowd.

  Mentally, Chaz was playing the vampire version of Fuck, Marry, Kill with the audience, which was obviously Fuck, Eat, Kill. Chaz found this version far more sophisticated; all the options could be easily accomplished at once.

  Confessional: Lola

  “What’s up, world? That was some shit, right? I can’t believe a bunch of vampires would be so uptight just because I let my fingers do the walking, but it just goes to show you never know how someone’s going to react. Except it probably won’t be good. For the kids watching, that finger-walking thing means I touched my pussy. And you know what, kids? Everybody does it. Touches their pussy, I mean, not mine. Or their dick, it’s okay for boys too. The point is if something is natural and healthy, we shouldn’t be ashamed to do it, even if other people can see. I knew they were leaving us in there until they let us the fuck out, you know?”

  “But nothing has changed. I’m still here to win. You better believe I’m going to be the last bloodthirsty bitch standing. And, by the way, I liked drinking blood. It made me feel strong. I think I’m already halfway there. See you when I’m Creature of the Night, bitches!”

  Confessional: Brett

  “Holy fuck! The coffins were awesome. And the blood. We totally drank human blood. I couldn’t believe it when that guy puked. He almost puked on me! Ha! But I kicked ass. And none of the judges said anything bad about me during the eliminations, which is good. It’s got to be good. Unless it’s bad. Maybe they’re not interested in me. Shit. Maybe I have to be crazier. I should do something. Get their attention. That’s it; that’s the plan.”

  “So, be on the lookout America! It’s getting hot in here! Woot! Woot! The rest of the world should be on the lookout too. I don’t discriminate. And, oh yeah, I want to give a shout out to Jonah and all the lovely ladies. I am going to fuck this shit up!”

  The contestants had been returned to the Manor and, for the first time, were not isolated in their rooms. After her session in the confessional, Lola roamed the Manor celebrating her quasi–freedom and searching for someone she could torment under the guise of social interaction. Unable to locate suitable prey, she swooped into the cavernous living room and flung herself across a black velvet sofa.

  It was hideously uncomfortable.

  It wasn’t until she’d rearranged all the pillows and hung one leg over the sofa back that she spotted Jeff sunk into an armchair in the corner.

  “What are you doing back here?” Lola said.

  “I have no idea,” Jeff told her. “They brought us both back and said we’re staying.”

  “Who did?”

  “Delia and Edmund,” Jeff said. “Who the fuck do you think? It was some human lackey.”

  “After they eliminated you?” Lola sneered. “Fuck that.” Let the losers go.

  “He said we’re still under contract,” Jeff said.

  “Under contract for what?”

  Jeff shrugged and picked up the television remote. “Maybe we’re backup in case one of you meets a tragic end.”

  “Sounds like bullshit,” Lola said.

  “What was the deal with the kid stuff?” Jeff said.

  “What kid stuff is that?”

  “I believe the exact words were ‘My body, my choice’ and ‘Genetically speaking.’”

  “So the fuck what?”

  “So, you’re the surrogate that decided not to be a surrogate.”

  “I got picked to be here,” Lola said. “Which is better. They wouldn’t have let me on the show in that condition. Where’s what’s-her-name? The other big loser.”

  “Sorry to see none of those death threats came through,” Jeff said.

  Lola blew him a kiss. “At least the check cleared.”

  Jeff had marched for many more causes than just vampire rights in his time. He turned a dead-eyed glare on Lola and turned up the volume on the television.

  “Fuck you too,” Lola said. She was not up for babysitting the little prick’s feelings. It wasn’t her fault he’d acted like a bitch. It wasn’t her problem she’d done better. People had to take responsibility for their failings; Lola did. And whatever she fucked up, she found a way to fix. Or she found somebody willing to fix it for her. There was none of this fucking depressive shit for her.

  “Hey, man,” Ollie said. He walked over to shake Jeff’s hand. “Too bad about today.”

  “They had to eliminate somebody,” Jeff said. He nodded at Donovan, who had changed into sweats with the arms cut off.

  “Somebody not fucking me,” Lola told them. “And I think they should separate the losers from the rest of us who still have a chance. It’s only decent
.”

  “What do you know about decency? You tried to masturbate on live TV,” Donovan told her.

  “Yeah, and you wish you’d gotten to watch,” Lola told him.

  “You can show me later,” Donovan said. She turned a scowl on him to cover the flare of lust and thought about what she would let him do if she had some time to kill. In Lola’s book, there was nothing wrong with beefy and aggressive.

  Donovan had made the mistake of marrying a nice girl. Lola was a perfect change of pace. Donovan paused as he passed by, letting her feel his big presence at her back. Lola smirked.

  Confessional: Stewart

  “First thing I have to tell the world is, more than anything, I miss my kids. I love you guys. Sorry if that embarrasses you, but that’s what dads are for, right? It’s been intense, more than I expected to be perfectly honest. But I made a commitment, and I’m sticking to it. And I think I’m doing well so far. I knew I shouldn’t have fallen asleep, but it doesn’t matter now. I’m going to do my best to win this thing and come home to you guys. That’s all I ever wanted. I can do this.”

  Confessional: Cassie

  “Well, I’m still here. I thought they were going to eliminate me, but here I am. And you know what? The worst is over. My confession is I’m afraid of the dark. Edmund thinks that makes me weak, but I made it. I made it through to daylight. Not daylight, technically, but those studio lights feel like the sun after eight hours in a coffin. But I made it out of that coffin, and I have nothing else to fear. Except, well, I do worry a little about going to hell. I grew up Catholic, and the Church says vampires go to hell. But it might not be true. They can’t know, I don’t think, not for sure. But no worries, all I have to do is stay alive forever, and I won’t have to worry about it. I just have to keep dancing.”

  “What are they saying?” Emily and Cassie were in the kitchen. Emily was slapping together a peanut butter sandwich, and Cassie was eating stuffed olives straight from the jar while the microwave irradiated some sausage links. Cassie thought it was almost criminal to be eating like drunken college kids while surrounded by yards of marble countertops and stainless steel, red knobbed appliances.

  Cassie sighed. “I heard something about masturbating and then I tried to stop listening.”

  Emily smiled. “That girl is working hard to class up the joint.”

  “I hope she washed her hands,” Cassie said, and Emily’s snort of laughter sent peanut butter and jelly flying from her mouth.

  “Are you going to clean that up?” Cassie turned to find Madeline and Brett had come into the kitchen. Apparently, they’d been just in time to see bits of Emily’s sandwich spray the counter.

  “Of course.” Emily raised an eyebrow at Cassie, who turned away to hide a giggle. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine.” Madeline turned her back to inspect the contents of the refrigerator. “Or I would be if we had any fucking liquor.”

  “There’s a bar in the living room,” Cassie said. In Cassie’s opinion, it was smart to stay sharp, but if Madeline wanted to fog her abilities, Cassie wouldn’t be the one to dissuade her. Either way, in Madeline’s case, it was moot.

  “I think I’ve earned a little oblivion,” Madeline snapped and headed for the living room without another word.

  “She’s taking it hard, huh?” Cassie said.

  Brett shrugged. “I don’t know. I would.”

  “No reason to worry about that,” Cassie said. There was something pathetic about Brett that made Cassie want to reassure him. She plated her food and dug in.

  “We should all be worried about that,” Emily said and popped the last bite of sandwich into her mouth.

  “What is there to eat?” Brett said.

  “All kinds of stuff,” Cassie told him.

  “They stocked up on themed foods,” Emily said.

  Cassie grinned as she pointed out to Brett the blood sausage, blood oranges, and blood pudding.

  “Gross,” Brett said. Emily laughed.

  Cassie raised her eyebrows and managed not to follow Emily’s lead. “You just drank actual human blood,” she said. “Besides, it’s pretty tasty.” She forked in another bite and chewed. It would have been better if she hadn’t mentioned drinking the blood. The thought that the sausage was made from humans jumped into her brain, and she was unable to banish it. She offered a bite to Brett so that, God forbid, she wouldn’t be the only cannibal. Brett shook his head and stepped back.

  “Want a bite?” Cassie said a bit desperately to Emily.

  “I do not like them, Sam I Am,” Emily said and sailed out of the kitchen.

  “Can I have something else?” Brett asked.

  Cassie was a firm believer in Nice, but she wasn’t about to play mother to a needy twenty-something vampire groupie. She bestowed a patient smile on Brett and indicated the family size jar of Jif on the counter.

  “I’m allergic,” Brett said. Cassie couldn’t think of anything Nice to say to that, so she smiled again, this time sans the patience, and left him.

  “That’s so mean,” Penny said.

  “What?”

  “I said that’s so mean. Really mean.”

  “I wasn’t asking what you said,” Penny’s long-suffering daughter explained. “I was asking what’s mean.”

  Penny cranked the volume on the TV down and repeated, “Really mean.”

  Allyson sighed. “Then why are you laughing?”

  “Because it’s funny,” Penny said.

  “What is it that’s so mean and yet so amusing?”

  “One of the girls tried to feed that guy peanut butter,” Penny said with high outrage, “and he’s allergic.”

  “Is it possible she didn’t know he was allergic?” Allyson said. She was working through a practice test for bio.

  “I don’t know,” her mother admitted. “Maybe. But I think she’s just trying to kill off the competition. Come out here and watch.”

  “I have to study,” Allyson said. “As my mother you should be encouraging my intellectual endeavors.”

  “I do, but you have to take a break sometime,” Penny said.

  “You made me take a break when they stuffed them into the coffins,” Allyson said. “And I don’t know why you’re so surprised. I’d be willing to bet every one of them has killed one thing or another.”

  “Gawd, you’re just like your father,” Penny said.

  Allyson rolled her eyes and refrained from saying “Thank you.” Her father was deeply respected in the halls of academia and was the author of several authoritative and well-reviewed books which happened to be lay-friendly enough to be profitable. Her mother had been an overly accommodating waitress until Allyson had made her a fortuitously pregnant one.

  Sometimes, Allyson wondered if there had been other pregnancies before her, courtesy of less well-heeled gentlemen, and if her mother had followed Lola’s example and declined to have them to pursue greener pastures.

  Confessional: Donovan

  “One challenge down and already the saddest of the punk ass bitches have been revealed. These people are pathetic. On the other hand, I fucking rocked. I have to say I’ve never felt more confident. And that judge wants to call me a barbarian? I don’t think so. What I am is I’m ready, and I’m focused, and I’m not a fucking pussy, you know?”

  “I mean seriously, how the fuck do you end up competing on this show if you’re afraid of the dark? Vampires like the dark, right? Fucking people. Hey, Tara? When I win this thing, we’re done. I want a divorce. You can keep the house and the fucking kids. I’m going to be balls deep in vamp-loving strange for the rest of my life. And if you see Judy from the office, do me a favor and tell her she’s a lousy lay. And Sheila, don’t wait for my call. I doubt the baby is even mine.”

  Confessional: Portia

  “Okay. I can do this. Except I might be getting a zit, which is freaking me the fuck out because it’s like a sign. But the host liked my Ophelia. He loved my Ophelia. And that’s got to trump a zit
, right? This is the break, the one they refer to as ‘big.’ My big break, and I’m so excited; I could die. And then come back to life. I’m just really proud of myself right now. The secret is I’m getting in character, and I’m committing. And my character? She’s the one who wins. She’s the one who gets to be an immortal star. No more waiting tables, no more children’s theater. Not that I don’t love the children, but anybody can entertain kids. I’m ready for more. I feel like this is my moment, this is where my real life starts. But if this fucking zit doesn’t go away, I’m going to kill everyone I can get my hands on, and then myself.”

  Brett decided then and there Cassie would not be permitted to sleep with him once he was a badass rock star vampire. She could take her pert, muscular little dancer’s body and, well, maybe he could let her do some girl on girl for his entertainment.

  But, he would never let her make him breakfast.

  “Hey.” Brett almost dropped the jar of olives Cassie had left behind.

  “Hi,” he managed. Portia was not the kind of girl Brett would normally be courageous enough to talk to. She was the kind of girl he pictured in his vampire rock star stable. At least, she would be if she were more famous.

  “What is there to eat around here?”

  “Quite a bit if you cook,” Brett said. He did not cook.

  Portia brushed past him to rummage through the fridge, leaving Brett free to check out her ass. It was a high quality ass.

  “Omelet?” Portia suggested. She pulled eggs, peppers, mushrooms, and an onion out of the fridge. Brett flushed and raised his eyes to her face.

  “It’s not the one I had when I was nineteen that’s for sure,” Portia said.

  “Huh?”

  “My ass,” Portia said pulling more items out of the fridge. “You like?”

  “I wasn’t—” Brett fumbled the lid back on the jar and prepared to flee. Women could get pretty shitty if they thought you were too focused on particular parts of their anatomy.