“I’m looking for the three dimensional dress with the spikes sticking out of it,” said the mother. “And my twin daughters are both keen to have the brand new 3-D T-shirts with BloodToura the Clown on them.”
“Sure,” I replied, trying my best to hide the obvious fact that I was a novice. Without hesitating, I grabbed one of the retail books and searched through the cumbersome index.
It didn’t take me long to find a picture of the BloodToura T-shirts. With a nifty looking clown face with shrill fangs and prickly hair slapped large across the front, it was hard to miss. Because these were new, they were located on the display shelf 20B, which would be pretty easy to locate.
But the mother’s dress…damn…I didn’t know where the hell that was.
After several anxious moments, I found the dress I was looking for in the index. It was located on shelf 9-16-E - almost all the way to the top.
“I’ll be right back,” I said. Oh, I was blowing it big time.
Up the ladder I trudged, trying to move rapidly because I was already taking too long. As I neared the top, greenish sweat beaded off of my skin and my legs started to hurt. I tried not to look down; I was damn scared. Eventually I saw the dress I needed. I quickly grabbed at it, and…OUCH….blood squirted like a fountain from my fingertip. Those damn 3D spikes!
Luckily the wound clotted rather speedily and I was able to rub the blood under my shirt so no one would know. I couldn’t be caught looking weak. I climbed down as fast as possible without killing myself.
“Sorry I took so long,” I said when reaching the floor. “Come this way.”
I led the family to the display shelf. The children happily clasped their clown shirts while I waited to get chewed out for my slowness.
But the mother was understanding. “I can tell you’re new,” she said.
I told her it was my first day.
“Well, you’re doing a really good job,” she continued. “I could never climb those ladders the way you do.”
The compliment was encouraging because my legs felt like stone and my cut finger was burning.
I helped four more customers before lunch. With each one I moved a little faster through the index book, and up and down the ladders. I learned more about some of the hippest and downright bizarre clothes in the world.
At lunch, though I was still not perfect, I’d come a long way. Especially with it being only my first day completely on my own.
The second half of the working day was difficult, but I survived after helping seven more customers and making sales. My legs were very sore though, and I wondered how I was going to survive several games of fireball that evening.
Just as I was preparing to leave, I came face to face with Mrs. FangCut. Even in her work clothes she appeared immaculate. She was probably the most beautiful vampire I’d ever seen. Yeah, I was intimated.
“If you keep this up you'll be getting a raise soon,” she said. “And don't forget about the fifteen percent staff discount on everything in the store. Have a nice night. I'll look forward to seeing you bright and early tomorrow.”
I said goodnight to her. Then, on my way out, Mira came over to congratulate me as well. Wow! I felt like a vampire queen.
“So where do you like to hang out?” she asked.
“Well, tonight I’m going over to the Recreation Center to play fireball with some friends. That's after my boyfriend treats me to a haircut.”
“Oh really? I enjoy playing fireball too.”
I invited her to join us, but she said she was busy that night. However, she would be glad to hang out and play with us in a few days' time. That was fine with me. The more the merrier.
It felt like I hadn’t seen Brett in ages when we met in front of the Supermarket. Dressed in a plain maroon shirt and cute jeans, he looked amazing. I threw my hands against his muscular body and felt his soft black hair drooping down his back. His dark eyes were beautiful.
“Ready for the haircut?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Good. I know the perfect place. You’re going to love it.”
Because Brett wouldn’t have his car for quite some time, we rode the train. After a couple of stops we emerged back above ground onto a bustling downtown street.
“So where are you taking me?” I asked.
We stopped at a small salon called BloodCuts. A spinning tube full of fresh blood was above a door made entirely of fangs.
“Look, there are posher places than this to get a haircut,” Brett said. “It may not look like much, but I promise you’re gonna like it.”
I thanked him, well aware that he couldn’t buy me the world. I didn’t care about that.
Brett opened the door, careful not to get pierced by any of the teeth. Inside was a small though crowded reception room full of shadows. Brett and I sat down next to a family of four.
The hairdressers were easily distinguishable in the misty air by their multiple glow-in-the-dark tattoos. One of them approached me. She was tall and thin with hair twisted and knotted in a magical style. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the striking dragon tattoo on her arms.
“Looks like you really need a haircut,” she said. “Miss Straight is definitely not fashionable in Vampire World. Here are our specials today.”
She handed me a laminated flyer showing three different, really hot haircuts.
The first one was called the Twist, with hair braided and twisted into a tornado-like funnel and highlighted with red and black colors. That cost 75 Carns. The second one was called the Dragon, a really unique style that unlike the tornado, had some hair that was actually straight and falling down on both sides. But on top it was molded and braided into the shape of a dragon with vampire fangs. Flaming hot, but costing 100 Carns.
The last one was my favorite: The Blaze. The hair was braided and molded into sexy tubes that fell all the way down the back. The tubes were colored crimson, black, and even pink. I loved it, but it cost 150 Carns. Damn, why did I always like the most expensive things?
It was too late. Brett caught me fantasizing over it.
“Looks like you found the one you like best,” he said.
“Yeah, but isn’t it a little much?” I asked.
Brett grinned. “Nothing is too much for you. I love you. Duhhhhh!”
I smiled when he told me he had enough money to buy his father's medicine this week, and have some left over for a few other goodies.
The hairdresser was merrily upbeat when I gave her my choice. “You’re going to feel like a new vampire after I’m finished,” she said. “Just you wait.”
I was taken to a hard chair and sat down. Behind me was an assortment of sharp objects like scissors with five blades, razors, cutters with spikes on them, and even knives.
“You’re not gonna hurt me?” I asked a little nervously.
“Oh no. Just relax. You won’t feel a thing. And I promise I won’t draw blood. The last hairdresser who committed that crime was fired and sent to prison.”
She got to work, twisting and cutting with her petrifying instruments. Though I felt no actual pain, there was intense pressure on each strand of hair. I squirmed in reaction to this.
“Just relax,” she told me. “It will only be a few more tenths of degrees.”
I tried to do just that as she placed a helmet-like cap over my head. I couldn’t see a thing.
“This may feel kinda weird,” the hairdresser said. “But trust me, it’s nowhere near as crazy as getting a tat.”
It felt like my hair was being sucked up by a giant vacuum cleaner. It was so uncomfortable that I started clenching my fists and praying for it to end. I thought I was dying. Then, at long last, it stopped.
“It’s over,” she said, removing the death cap from my head. “You look great.”
I stood up and peered into the mirror. My first thought was: 'Oh my god, what did I do to myself?'
Then, as I checked my new hair makeover closer, I burst out laughing. I really did have tubes of hair
sticking incredibly out in all directions and drooping down over my shoulders. They were colored crimson, black, and neon pink, just like in the photo.
“You look great,” Brett said.
As he paid the cashier, I couldn’t believe I'd changed my appearance so drastically. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it. And I loved looking like a vampire. It was still kind of funny at first though. I had this weird feeling I'd worn my hair straight and down for years. But why? I didn’t have any memory at all of the style I'd had before the accident. More than likely it was something wild, just like this new doo.
After leaving BloodCuts, Brett and I walked past a whole row of glass storefronts in which I could see my reflection, so before long I was completely used to my new look.
“Thanks a lot baby,” I said. “I owe you one.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied.
I gazed at his bare, smooth skin. “When I save up some money,” I said, “I want to get you a tat.”
He put his arms around me, which let me know how much he really wanted one. Well, he was getting one anyway, whether he liked it or not.
We took the train back to Mr. FreeCut’s house. He had offered to drive us to the recreation center, and I couldn't wait for Brett to meet him.
He was standing by the door when we walked up. “Well, here’s the lucky man,” he said.
They shook hands and introduced themselves. Mr. FreeCut then nodded toward my drastic appearance change.
“Janice…wow….your new haircut looks nice, even to a two hundred year-old vampire like me. I swear that's the truth.”
I was so happy to hear him say that.
We rode in the back seat of Mr. FreeCut’s car. He was very animated.
“I haven’t played fireball since forever. I hope I don’t mess up your game. You sure you want an old fart like me around?”
“Of course,” Brett said, before I got the chance to state the obvious.
Brett and Mr. FreeCut made good conversation during the drive. They chatted about family, Carns, and even some history. I was delighted they were hitting it off because they were far more to me than boyfriend and father figure. They were family.
We arrived at a very busy recreation center. Mr. FreeCut warned us he would probably have to jet off before the rest of us because of an early work day tomorrow. Still, he was eager to play.
Inside, there were long lines of enthusiastic vampires waiting to use one of the countless fireball courts that seemed to stretch on for miles into the dark place.
“Just as I thought,” Mr. FreeCut noted. “Fireball hasn’t lost its popularity.”
“It’s the best game in the world,” Brett said.
A sign hung down from the murky ceiling. It read: 'Fireball Tournament try-outs are open tonight. All highly skilled fireball players are welcome to take the plunge to the second level to practice. But serious and blood daring vampires only!'
Mr. FreeCut chuckled. “I remember entering the contest long ago. It was one of the most exciting times of my life. You both should try it. Even if you don’t make it to the third level, it will still be worthwhile.”
Brett and I agreed to enter the contest. I mean, we would be stupid not to. The prize was 10,000 Carns. We needed the cash!
As we moved down the narrow walkways between the fireball courts a ball whizzed by me, nearly taking my head off. It looked like we might have to wait forever to play tonight. Then I spotted Kate playing with April and Marsha, plus a bunch of other vampires I didn't recognize. She saw us too.
“Hey, Janice! Brett!” she called out. “We’ve reserved this square. Come play.”
As expected, the girls were surprised and delighted by my new hairstyle.
“Oh my god, you go girl!” Kate said. Even April told me it looked good. Whether she liked me now or not, I really didn’t care. Tonight I just wanted to have fun.
I introduced Mr. FreeCut to my friends. They didn’t seem to mind, even though I thought I heard April snicker for a degree. But I could have imagined it.
Kate spoke briefly to April and her other friends. Then she turned around. “Hey, we’re going to let you all take the square together,” she said. “Go ahead and have fun. Oh, don’t worry about the blood tubes. They're on me.”
We thanked Kate as she, April, and another female vampire left the square to make room for us. Mr. FreeCut grinned as he occupied the square next to a cute, tattoo-clad vampire I hadn’t seen before. Dressed in a stark T-shirt with 3-D severed bleeding heads moving about, the stranger smiled at me.
“Hey, I’m Michael. Let’s play.”
And we were off. Michael hit the ball to Mr. FreeCut, who slammed it to me with such unexpected force that I tripped, fell down, and ultimately missed it.
I stood up, perplexed that someone hundreds of years older than me could knock me out on the first try. I was actually offended. But I quickly got over it.
“Damn,” I said, smiling. “Great shot, Dad.”
“Sorry, Janice,” he said. “It just felt so good to hit the ball.”
I subbed out as someone else took my place. Gosh, I'd called him Dad. I was so glad he was reliving a happy part of his life. He could get me out a million times and I’d still be pleased. He meant so much to me.
However, I realized I needed to start practicing more if I was going to make the tournament and win the big money.
Mr. FreeCut continued to impress. After me, he then got out Michael, Brett, and a girl named Emma. Maybe they knew he was old and decided to go easy on him. Or maybe my caretaker was just rock-solid good.
When I eventually subbed back in, Mr. FreeCut was yet to be played off the square. As the flaming ball soared my way, this time I concentrated more on keeping my ground. I smacked the ball hard to Brett, who then hit it sideways to April. After it had bounced once in her square she knocked it to Mr. FreeCut, who literally jumped sideways like he was a pro athlete and sent it my way. Where the hell did he get his energy from?
Around and around it went for what seemed like forever. Finally, Mr. FreeCut, with a look of nostalgic determination in his fiery eyes, spiked the ball my way, making it land very close to the border of flames. I tried my best to hit it before it went out of bounds, but missed and fell right on my ass. Damn!
Once again I was astonished he could beat me. But I wasn’t angry when he eventually came off the square. I was proud of him.
“You’re going to be a great fireball player,” he said, putting his arm around me. “Whatever you do, don’t stop practicing.”
I promised I wouldn’t. Then it was time for him to head home. I didn’t want him to leave, even though I knew he needed his sleep.
After my friends and I said goodbye to him, I realized how much fireball practice I would need to do if I was going to stand a chance at even making it past the second level of the tournament.
For the next several degrees we all practiced hard - so hard that I completely forgot about the soreness in my legs. The ball flew around so many times I got dizzy. I became better at leaping for the ball and hitting it before it soared over the flames and out of bounds. I couldn't resist grinning when I knocked Brett out for the third time, but cringed when he did the same and got me out a bunch of times. But I didn’t really hate it. I just wanted to get better. Just like I wanted to get better at my job and everything else in Vampire World.
And now that I had all this new found confidence, hell, I was gonna do it!
FIREBALL, LEVEL TWO
After an exhausting practice, we relaxed at a table and downed refreshing glass tubes of blood. April was quiet as usual, though Michael and Marsha talked my ear off while Brett held me tightly.
“You’re really getting better, Janice,” Marsha said. “You’re gonna do well in the tournament.”
“Thanks. I could really use the money,” I said.
Brett laughed. “We all could use the money.”
“All of us except Michael,” April responded. Wow! So she could talk! And
the funny thing was, she was loaded. She certainly didn’t need the money. Nevertheless, I wisely kept my mouth shut.
Michael chuckled. “Hey, I can never get enough Carns. I don’t think any sane vampire can.”
He'd been gazing continuously in my direction ever since we'd sat down, like he had a thing for me. Although his tattoos, clothes and looks were impressive, there was no need for Brett to worry. Nothing would ever tear us apart.
“So when do we enter?” I asked. “I’m ready.”
“Once we finish these drinks we’ll go stand in the line,” Brett said. “When we’re checked in, we’ll go down the escalator to the second level.”
Kate sighed. “Before we can go down, we have to sign a document that says we promise to attend the qualifying round. We can practice as much as we want after we sign, but we have to be at the qualifying round. If we don't turn up for that we could go to jail.”
I was shocked. “Jail? Over a game?”
“This tournament is taken very seriously,” Kate warned.
“Don’t worry,” Michael cut in. “You’re way too pretty to go to jail.”
I saw Brett immediately flinch with jealousy. I appreciated Michael’s compliment, but if he continued like this he was gonna risk pissing Brett off to the point where he might want to take a bite out of him.
We finished our blood and made our way to a long line of motivated and athletic vampires. I heard chatter about rotating platforms and winning Carns.
After a lengthy wait, we eventually arrived at a long desk with a burly attendant standing behind it. Further back, I could see eager vampires descending into a cave-like passageway. A sign above it read: 'Welcome to the 850th Fireball Tournament. Where courageous vampires fight for glory.'
The desk bouncer handed me a document that he said I must sign in order to play. Because I already knew the rules, I did this without question.
“Here is your ticket, together with the time you must be here for the qualifying round,” he said. “Failure to show up could mean imprisonment, torture or death.”
Yep! They really did take this freakin game seriously.
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