Creature of the Night

by Anne Stinnett

  “Didn’t you watch?” Celeste said.

  “I got eliminated.” Jeff glared. “Why would I give a shit what happens to the rest of you?”

  “I don’t know,” Celeste said. “Because that’s what a decent human being would do? How did you go from pie in the sky vamp lover to creepy, bitter cynic so fast?”

  “Funny you should ask. I’ve been doing some self-examination, and I think the answer has something to do with my humiliating elimination after I was forced to lick up bloody vomit. I suppose I should go back to embracing humanity now that it’s my only option,” Jeff said. “Please tell me, is everyone okay? Should I open my free hugs booth?”

  “You’re a dick,” Celeste said. She collided with Madeline on her way out of the room, sending the self-proclaimed dark mistress sprawling into the doorjamb.

  Madeline shrugged at Celeste’s back, crossed the room, and snagged a piece of Jeff’s pizza “Did you cook this?”

  Jeff shrugged. “For a while.”

  Madeline blew him a kiss and departed with her slice. Jeff wished the others would leave too. He wished they hadn’t come back. It had been nice having the house essentially to himself.

  “So, how was your day, dear?” Emily said.

  Jeff rolled his eyes and ignored her. He couldn’t evict the others from the room, but he didn’t have to interact either. When you had all the frozen pizza you could eat and a big TV to watch, who needed other people?

  Confessional: Emily

  “I walked a tightrope today, and that was amazing. However, the flying bullets were an unpleasant touch, which brings me to luck is a bitch. You can plan to the point of insanity, research every fact, memorize every precedent, and know the judges better than they know themselves, but you can’t undo luck. Or maybe I mean chance. It doesn’t matter; I don’t believe in any of it although, right now, I wish I could.

  “I’m still in the running so I shouldn’t complain, but what about next time? Reinhold Niebuhr said we’re supposed to accept the things we cannot change, and that essentially covers everything in the competition. I’m neither religious nor serene so it’s best to dwell on the near future as little as possible. The challenges are bound to get worse, and backing out isn’t an option. On the bright side, I think a couple of people are ready to lose their shit, and I don’t plan on being one of them. Of course, this is one of those situations where it’s easy to surprise yourself, for better or for worse. Maybe even both.”

  Confessional: Stewart

  “Hi, kids. Three challenges to go, and I’m still here. Winning didn’t seem so hard before I got here; now I’m happy I only got shot in the ass. Those kids who got eliminated today, I feel for them. They’re not much older than you guys. I want to tell you I was wrong to do this. I wanted a grand gesture to show you how much you mean to me. I wanted to win you guys back, and that was a mistake. I should have done it by being there every day even when you hated me. I shouldn’t have listened when you wanted to skip a weekend here and there. Those missed weekends eventually became months of not seeing you, and then it was six months and we’d had dinner maybe three times.

  “You guys are my life, and what I’m trying to say is don’t try to prove yourselves with some stupid gesture, not ever. You prove yourselves by doing your best every day. Every day. Do your best to love your mother; do your best to be good friends; do your best in school. You can’t slack off on things that matter and expect to make it up all at once. Remember, you can’t ever make up for absence. I wish I had realized that years ago. Or at least months ago. If I had, I’d be there, knocking on your mother’s door, asking for an unscheduled weekend even though I know you guys are busy. Because there is nothing I’d rather do with my time than give it to you. I hope you’re watching. And I hope you’re not. Love you guys.”

  Donovan burst through the front door, took in the librarian and the loser, and went through without bothering to acknowledge them. He had plans to hit the gym. Donovan was two steps closer to paradise, and to celebrate, he was going to admire the way his muscles bunched while he lifted. Maybe Lola would want to watch.

  Except Lola was nowhere to be found, so Donovan made his way to the gym without an adoring audience. He stopped in the doorway when he found the room already occupied.

  Ollie released the curl bar to the floor with a clang and a thump. “How are you feeling?”

  Donovan let his lip curl. “I’m good.”

  “Can you spot me?”

  Donovan shrugged and followed Ollie to the bench press. He watched Ollie add another twenty pounds and then stood with his hands under the bar while Ollie strained and grunted through ten reps.

  Donovan wondered what it would sound like if he pushed the bar all the way down to Ollie’s neck. There was a chance no one would even care, and Donovan would be one step closer to his goal. “So, that was something,” Donovan said.

  “It was horrible,” Ollie said once he’d gotten the bar onto the rests. “It’s amazing none of us was killed.”

  “A couple of people probably wish they had been,” Donovan said. He should never have brought it up. When he thought of Kannon’s ruined eye, he wanted to scream. But he wouldn’t.

  Confessional: Jeff

  “I’m so over being stuck in a house with this bunch of self-obsessed sharks. I don’t think any of these assholes deserve to win, but if I had to bet on one, I guess it would be Portia. It would have been the rich kid, but I just found out from the librarian some kid shot out his eye. Shot out his fucking eye. If that doesn’t make you feel better about being out of the whole thing, nothing will. I don’t mean that in an insensitive way. I mean, it sucks for him, but you know, what matters is it didn’t happen to me. I feel now like I’ve been a dick, but that is going to change. I’m a nice guy. And the world is going to see it.”

  Confessional: Lola

  “Some asshole almost shot me. I felt it go through my fucking hair. Stupid fucking— You know what? It doesn’t matter. Whoever you are, you don’t matter. I matter. I’m going to win. Two more down, seven to go. I’m ready for the next challenge right fucking now. The faster we get through this shit, the faster I’m sinking my shiny new fangs into the neck of some hot twenty-year-old. Seriously, the suspense is killing me. As long as nothing else does, I guess. I just want to know what’s coming. Maybe we’ll have to kill an endangered animal or something.”

  Little P was in the hall conferring with the doctor. Kannon and Cassie were alone in the infirmary.

  “How are you feeling?” Kannon said.

  “Like I want to die,” Cassie told him. “But I’ll probably get over it. Someday.”

  “I’m relieved,” Kannon told her.

  “That I’ll probably get over wanting to die?”

  “That it’s over,” Kannon said.

  “Really?” Cassie abandoned her examination of the ceiling to look at him. Kannon thought she was beautiful. He, on the other hand, was looking forward to a new glass eye and a lifetime of stares. A newly made beast.

  “Okay. A part of me is relieved,” Kannon said. “Most of me is pissed. Then there’s the shock. I’m sorry I came here.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.” Little P had slipped in to stand between their beds. “I know it’s easy to feel upset right now, but plenty of people do just fine with only one eye or a permanent limp. The important thing is not to make this the focus of your entire experience here.”

  “Fuck off,” Kannon said.

  “He’s right.” Cassie turned her face to the far wall to hide the tears that had started to trickle out of her unmaimed eyes. She didn’t want to make Kannon feel inadequate. “Besides, what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”

  “The doctor mentioned amputation,” Kannon said. “Cutting off part of your leg. Is that going to make you stronger?”

  “He said it wouldn’t be necessary,” Cassie said.

  “Which means he considered it.” Kannon pushed himself to a more upright position so he could gi
ve half a glare to the producer. “You destroyed us. How can you stand there and give us a goddamn pep talk?”

  “Everyone was informed of the risks,” Little P told them. “You did read the contract, didn’t you?”

  “So what?” Kannon demanded. He hadn’t read the contract; one of his father’s lawyers had. “Do you know how many waivers I’ve signed in my life? Whitewater rafting, bungee jumping, skydiving, and, and plenty of others. I’ve never had so much as a scratch.”

  Under the heading plenty of others lurked Kannon’s safari, during which he’d managed to take out a lion dozing in the sun. As he bragged, it had occurred to Kannon that Cassie might be the sensitive type who frowned upon shooting wild animals from a jeep as they napped.

  “It could have just as easily been two of the others, or no one, or even all of you.” This wasn’t Little P’s favorite part of the job. He’d been with the show from day one, and he still couldn’t comprehend why every contestant on the receiving end of a catastrophic injury was shocked. “Fate takes a hand in everything. Or nothing. Basically, I just wanted to touch base and wish you a speedy recovery while in no way admitting any liability beyond that for which you already signed a waiver. A waiver which covers everything.”

  “Go fucking die,” Kannon said.

  You first, Little P thought.

  “I think we need to rest,” Cassie said. She couldn’t stop herself from adding, “Thank you for stopping by.”

  “Of course, of course.” Little P did his best not to look relieved. “Rest is certainly what you need. I’ll leave you to it. The television will respond to voice commands if you want to turn on the show. We’ll talk soon.”

  Confessional: Ollie

  “Nothing prepares you for that. At this point, I don’t know whether I should be more worried about the challenges or the judges. I walk a tightrope of all things, somehow avoid a bullet from the crowd, and then go through thinking the damn crazy judge is going to lose it and eat all of us. Sorry about the language, Mom, Dad. I’m doing my best, and I hope you’re out there rooting for me. I want you both to know I’m dealing with this as well as I am because you guys are great parents. And, believe it or not, this is the adventure of my life. But I have to admit—a big part of me is missing the farm.”

  Confessional: Portia

  “Poise under pressure, that’s my middle name. Of course, that makes no sense. I’m babbling. Don’t babble. Note to self. My hands are still shaking. Look. Like a leaf. I’ve never felt like I was about to die until today. For the record, it’s worse than stage fright. Not that it’s something that needs to be on the record. Pretty obvious, right? The judge. Wow. I don’t think it’s safe for him to be around people. Of course, I won’t be pointing it out. I’m exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a week. I feel like I’ll never sleep again.”

  “But this too shall pass, just like the last challenge did. And in case anyone is wondering, when I was on the tightrope, I made myself think about my role as the one who wins it. And I’m still here, so I think that says it all. Also, having my personal and political views hinted at out there shouldn’t matter. Just because I have traditional values about marriage doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be Creature of the Night.”

  “There should have been a ‘no faces’ rule,” Lola said.

  “What good would that have done?” Emily rolled her eyes. “Do you think any of those people are capable of putting a perfect triangle in someone’s shoulder?”

  “How should I know?” Lola snapped. “It just sucks they disfigured the hottest guy here.” The richest guy here, she added to herself.

  “At least you’re focused,” Emily said. She was face down in her yoga mat, also trying to focus. The room had been empty when she started. Circumstances weren’t ideal, but that probably meant it was even more important not to let her practice slide.

  “Does anyone know how they’re doing?” Brett hadn’t stopped moving since their return to the Manor. More than one of the other contestants had wished Brett was locked away in the makeshift hospital room. Emily breathed in and out of downward dog and tried not to listen.

  “We didn’t know five minutes ago,” Jeff said. “How would we know now?”

  “I don’t know why everybody is in such a shitty mood.” Donovan came in from the kitchen with a plate of sandwiches. “That’s two more down, which means we’re two closer to having a winner. And I do mean me.”

  “I was just thinking that,” Lola said. “About the two down. But I’ll be the one to win this bitch.”

  “If you win, it’s because you are a bitch,” Jeff said.

  “We all plan to win,” Portia said. “Which doesn’t mean we can’t have compassion for Kannon and Cassie.”

  “What’s wrong with Kannon and Cassie?” Madeline snagged a sandwich off Donovan’s plate and chased a bite with a swig of scotch. When no one managed a prompt answer, she left.

  “Jesus, people,” Donovan spat pieces of half chewed ham and bread as he spoke. Emily’s warrior pose lost some integrity as she tried to avoid the crumbs. “It’s not like they’re dead.”

  “What about Stewart?” Brett said. “They took him too.”

  Lola snickered. “I can’t believe he got shot in the ass. I’d rather be shot right through the heart. It would be way more dignified.”

  “I’m sure most of us would prefer that option,” Emily said. Portia laughed.

  Confessional: Cassie

  “So, you guys aren’t going to believe this, but getting shot does not excuse you from confessionals. Fine. I never believed in karma. I was raised Catholic, and sinning and being forgiven is our thing, the opposite of karma. And I always believed everyone was doing their best, so the woo-woo idea of being sentenced to life as a dung beetle didn’t make sense. But since I’m a person who let her brother die because saving him would have interfered with my career, believing in karma isn’t in my best interests. I was wrong to give up the time I had left for the slim chance of extending it forever. I’m not my best right now, so take it with a grain of salt, but my advice is don’t hate yourself for being human. Turns out that can end badly. From my new perspective, aging gracefully doesn’t look so bad.”

  Confessional: Madeline

  “This place is awesome. They’re going to have to pry me out of here with a crowbar. I’m going to find out how to apply to be the housemother like they have in a sorority. This will be better though because I won’t have to deal with all those little sorority cunts. I can just live here and check on everyone. I was a little disappointed at first, but this is safer. That eye business was unfortunate. And besides, isn’t the point of being immortal and powerful to get to live in a place like this? I mean, good grief, there’s a movie theater. And I ordered some cookbooks today. I’m going to learn how to make ziti. The kitchen is too good to waste. Plus, it would be nice if we ate together more. That’s why I’m not participating too much in the drama. I want to show the producers I can be neutral and not take sides when they get new contestants.”

  Portia let out a private sigh of relief when Emily took her ass out of the air and exited the living room. It was completely unnatural for a librarian to be the proud owner of such tight a body. Portia had been clenching and unclenching her own cheeks, unobtrusively she hoped, as she sat on the couch and seethed over Emily bending and flexing.

  “I don’t like her either,” Lola said.

  Portia considered denial, but the effort was beyond her. “She hasn’t done anything,” she offered.

  “She’s annoying,” Lola said.

  “She’s got a great ass,” Donovan said, and Brett nodded.

  “Mine’s better,” Lola said.

  Portia transferred some of her annoyance Lola’s way. It would be nice if she weren't the only woman here who had the decency to be over thirty. Albeit, not on her resume.

  “Prove it,” Donovan said to Lola.

  “What if we don’t act like a bunch of horny teenagers?” Portia said.

 
“What?” Donovan had moved up behind Lola and slung an arm around her neck. Lola smacked his arm away then butted up against his chest with her own, smirking and telling him he better not fucking touch her again.

  Portia wanted to wipe that ever-present smirk right off Lola’s face. Instead, she left. Before the first challenge, her nerves had been screaming for freedom. Somewhere in her warped brain, she had harbored fantasies of bonding with the other competitors. She had envisioned something akin to the fleeting bonds that often formed between castmates in more traditional productions of stage or screen.

  This wasn’t some experimental production of Hamlet; this was big. And she hated these people. But this mattered on a primal level. As she made a beeline for her room, she clung to the thought that despising her fellow contestants was the only sensible option.

  She barreled around a corner straight into Madeline.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Portia struggled to hold back a scream of frustration.

  “Nothing,” Madeline said. “What’s your issue? I mean, are you okay? Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “You could find me a pair of ruby slippers so I can wish myself the fuck out of this disaster.”

  “It’s going to be okay.” Madeline took a step forward and extended her arms as though she were going to wrap them around Portia. Portia pushed past her and ran the rest of the way to her room.

  Confessional: Kannon

  “My confession. If I could manage to get up and set off a bomb in the studio, I would. Confessional is just a self-cheering session with a moment of insecurity thrown in for human interest. Since there’s no point in rooting for a useless bastard with one eye, I’m going to root for Jeff. Wait. Nope. Jeff got eliminated even before I did. Still, he does have two eyes. Donovan seems like a prick, but who am I to judge. They say Justice is blind. Technically, I don’t qualify. By the way, about that bastard comment, I was the reason my parents got married. I guess by convincing me to come here, they’ve finally gotten their revenge.