In an effort to talk her off the ledge, I asked her about… (ugh)herself. As if I cared to hear anybody’s life story. But I did find out for my pains that there’s not many of her kind left. A lot of them died out from withdrawal due to their species’ uncontrollable need to tickle everything. Imagine that—having an addiction as part of your evolutionary code. It’s about as asinine as pandas requiring human intervention to perform their reproductive duties.
Luckily, the trip wasn’t too long. I was certainly due for a bit of luck.
We’re dropped off just outside a theater. It’s pretty much how I expected it to look. Brown-bricked with white doors… I’m no expert, but even I know that’s an ugly design.
It’s kind of like a boring diner, but with a fancy sign proclaiming, “AUDITIONS TODAY!”
I shudder and feel a bit sick. It makes me want to slit someone’s throat right here, right now and just accept the valley. Let’s face it, it’s only a matter of time before I end up there anyway.
“Ready?” I ask.
Jax stares at the theater, his tone less intimidated. “Oh. Is this it?”
“Seems it.” I glance at Lexi who rubs her hands together. “What’s wrong, Lex?”
“Nothing!” She bites her lip. “It’s just… I’m getting the cravings, Colt. I gotta tickle someone real bad.”
“Sheesh.” I link my arm with hers. “We’re going to find you a new addiction, all right? Not because I want to help you, but because you can’t screw this up for me. I have this feeling I’ll somehow get the blame the moment you go on a tickle rampage. Here.” I dig into my pockets and pull out a pack of gum. “Have this whenever you feel the urge to tickle.”
She nods and jams the entire pack in her mouth, her teeth slowly sticking together with each chew.
Ew. It’s hard to contain my disgust, so I pat her on the back. “That’ll do, Leshi.”
“Haaanf-lo-ro?” she grunts through the gum.
“Uh-huh. Lexi, my ears are good, but not that good. Let’s get this over and done with, shall we? It’s nearly 2 p.m. and my form is far too jet-lagged to carry on with nonsense. Once we’ve done the audition, we can get some sleep.”
“Sleep,” Jax says longingly. “I can’t remember the last time I slept. Won’t be anytime soon with that bloody Bakhtak, either.”
I raise an eyebrow, talk of sleep forcing me to yawn. “What’s that?” I cover my mouth.
“Werewolves only get a few hours after our… monthly transition. Otherwise we stay awake.”
“You mean your wolf raaaam-page?” I chuckle. “Just kidding, buddy. Dogs before beauty. Go on, then.”
Jax reluctantly steps forward, pushing on the doors that squeak open. We’re greeted by a crooked staircase, the banisters only half-painted and the wallpaper a disgusting lime-green.
“Oh heck.” Lexi snickers. “It’s like a giant sneezed in here.”
“Nah, giants were wiped out millenniums ago,” I say, taken by the portraits of previous theater owners. They’re all men, with strained expressions like they were coerced into posing. Some lean on canes, most look bored. I can’t blame the poor sods.
“Ah! You’re here! Your agent rang to say you were on your way!” A woman appears at the top of the stairs. She skips every second step, her toothy grin surprisingly contagious. Her hair is in a messy topknot and her jeans and shirt are stained with yellow paint.
“Saffron-Jade?” I ask, startled by her deep-green eyes. I didn’t think anyone else had that color. My form originally had brown eyes, but they slowly changed hue as I stuck around.
She’s quite beautiful, for a human. I fight off the strange urge to bump my head into her leg, and knead my paws into her squishy bits.
“Call me Saffy!” She puts her hands on her hips and blows the hair from her eyes. “So! The three of you are here to audition?”
“We sure are!” Lexi swallows her gum whole. “Gee, you sure have some nice lookin’ ribs there…”
“We’re gonna need more gum, Lexi.” I shove my last pack into her mouth. One may pose the question: why do I have so many packs of gum? That’s obvious: I’m a vampire cat—we like to keep fresh.
Saffy cuddles herself, naturally wary of Lexi’s “compliment.” “So, what’s your background?”
“Say again?” I ask.
“Your background,” she repeats. “You know, in theater. Are you newbies or do you have experience?”
I make a weird sound somewhere in my throat while I concoct a lie. “I… I did Shakespeare in high school.” Oh Colt, you dumbass. You know nothing about Shakespeare.
“Really?” Saffy’s eyes sparkle. She looks way too impressed now.
“Well, parody Shakespeare. Not the hardcore stuff. It was more the dumbed down version…”
Lexi stares at me, chewing what’s left of the gum. “You went to school, Colt? I didn’t think monsters went to sch—”
“—but our backstories are boring!” I plow on. “Saffy, why don’t you lead us to the stage? We’d love to audition and then crash. It’s been a long trip.”
“Absolutely! Follow me.” Saffy leads us up the stairs, Jax tripping halfway up. “So where are you lovelies staying? So nice of you to travel all this way. Locals never audition. We’ve had to cancel the last two plays due to lack of interest.”
“That sucks,” I say, taken by the way she slinks up the stairs. “We’re staying at… Jax, buddy? Where are we staying?”
Jax flinches, his eye twitching. “The manual said the theater.”
“Manual?” Saffy cocks an eyebrow, but shrugs it off. “It’s true, we provide a room for guest performers. It’s…it’s not exactly glamorous, but you’re all very welcome to it. I spent a lot of nights there as a kid.”
“Is this place haunted?” Lexi asks, her eyes wandering from portrait to portrait.
Saffy laughs lightly, turning into a door at the top of the stairs. “Just by friendly ghosts.”
“Crap,” Lexi whispers. “I owe them money.”
Saffy laughs again, motioning us into the room. “Ah, I love you actors! Would you like to go first?”
“Me?” Lexi points to herself, her face flushed. “Ah gee, well sure! What, ah, characters are you looking for?”
“I just want to see what kind of people are signing up. Then we can write the characters around your strengths!” Saffy says, leading us into the auditorium. It’s surprisingly big, but unsurprisingly tacky. The seats are at least eighty years old, the stuffing pokes through. I’m convinced the whole room is on a slant; even the curtain rods are crooked. As for the stage, the crumbling columns and flaking paint say it all.
“Why do we have to write our own script?” I take a seat, wincing when a spring pokes me. “I mean, I’m all for creativity, but why can’t we do a classic?”
“Because we haven’t got the money to buy the rights,” Saffy says sadly, sitting next to me. Jax stiffly joins us. “Lexi, head upstairs onto the stage and begin.”
“More stairs?” Lexi whines, cringing at the four steps leading to the stage. Puffing, she complies, resting her hands on her hips when she reaches the top. “Righto. Um, so a monologue, is it?”
“That’s right!”
“Of… anything?”
“Absolutely anything. When you’re ready.”
“Okey dokey.” Lexi rubs her hands and then pushes them in front of her, like a mime that’s run into an invisible wall. “I’m the extraordinary tickle monster, ready to dig my nails into gorgeous, unsuspecting ribs! The squeals of laughter and terror—” I motion for her to get a grip when her eyes dilate, and she obediently changes her tone. “Behold! The blinding glare of your sinful ways seeping into your mind, into your soul! Cities will flood, towns will crumble and all that ever was will become nothing more than um, a steaming pile of nothing.” We stare in silence. “Ah, that’s all I got. It was my impression of God. I decided to change my character halfway through.” We don’t respond, so Lexi finds solace in rambling. “Well,
First Testament God. He had the cranks back then, didn’t he? Well, his character did. Really, the Bible is just an excellent book of short stories. The guy who loses his power when he cuts his hair? Great storytelling right there. A lot of it doesn’t make sense, but I suppose fiction never does. I actually really like the Jewish Bible, where it talks about Lilith instead of Eve, and—”
I slap my forehead into my palm. Lexi needs to learn there’s a difference between thinking and speaking.
“Thanks, Lexi,” Saffy says, her lips tight. “Come take a seat.” She faces Jax. “Are you ready?”
Jax jolts, standing robotically. “Um, Saffron-Jade?”
“Saffy.”
“Yes, Saffy. Could… is it possible that I help backstage with props? I, er, can hammer stuff. And stuff. Just don’t leave me in the dark. It’s my only request. To have light everywhere, I mean. Is that too much to ask?”
“No no, of course not! And absolutely, we need handymen! There’s actually a nightlight, see, one of the kids left over in the guest room. Consider it yours.” Saffy turns to me. “Last, but not least! You’re up!”
“I want to help with props too,” I say quickly.
“Nope! You’re too confident to have backstage. We need you up there!” Her eyes indicate the stage. “Besides, your agent told me how talented an actor you are!”
“My agent?”
“Yes! St. Damian. Go on!”
St. Damian posing as an agent, I can handle. But telling Saffy I’m a talented actor? He’s gonna pay for that one.
Begrudgingly, I slump onto the stage, ignoring Lexi’s hanging high-five as we pass on the stairs. I shove my hands into my pockets, my posture practically an S-bend. It’d make an osteopath weep.
“Ah, I play my roles very naturally.” I don’t even bother projecting my voice. “They say I’m made for TV, because I don’t overact, see.” I don’t think I’m fooling anyone. “Look, Saffy, what you see is what you get. I’ll read lines and I’ll do what I can to help, but I’m not going to be someone I’m not.”
Jax snorts, instantly regretting his rudeness when my pupils turn to tiny slits. It’s not hard to guess he’s snorting at the irony. Just because I’m possessing somebody, doesn’t mean I’m not me. This is the personality I cultivate, regardless of who I’m in!
“Yeah, so, anyway.” I clear my throat, my pupils reverting to a rounder state. Saffron-Jade doesn’t seem to notice. “Saffy, I’m sorry I couldn’t be the Johnny Depp to your Tim Burton. Or Ricky Gervais to your Stephen Merchant, because I’m not much of a writer, either. Whatever St. Damian said is nonsense. I’m an amateur at best.”
The disappointment on Saffy’s face is undeniable. “That’s okay,” she says softly. “We welcome all types of backgrounds. Congratulations on your auditions. It’d be an honor to put together a masterpiece! You know, if we can actually sell seats this time. But I’m optimistic!”
She stands, plays with her hair and awkwardly heads for the exit.
“Where is she going?” Lexi mumbles to Jax. “Hey, Saffy! Are we supposed to follow?”
Saffy absentmindedly nods. “Hmm, yes, come to the guest room.”
It’s excruciatingly obvious that we’ve just sucked the life out of Saffy’s soul. Not literally, of course. There are other monsters who would, though. We call them the Suckers, just because we hate their guts. That, and their real name is way too hard to pronounce.
“Do you think we’ve hurt her feelings?” Lexi’s eyebrows pucker, as she keeps her distance behind Saffy.
“That’s her problem. We all control our own feelings,” I say, as we troop up more stairs and turn into a dingy hallway. There’s a fire exit sign at the end and a door with a handle missing.
“Except people with depression,” Jax says.
“And inebriated humans,” Lexi says.
“And people with addiction.”
“Oh, oh, and when you’re crazy in love with a d-bag! Damn chemicals and hormones.”
“Okay, shut up!” I really hate counterarguments.
We turn into the guest room that leaves little to the imagination. The walls are a sickly pale green, with cracks and small spiders roaming in between. The floorboards creak, and there are two bunk beds with stained cream duvets on opposing sides. In the corner, a light blue nightlight flickers on and off.
Other than that, there’s not a whole lot else. There’s a lone light on the ceiling. Um, there’s… there’s a door. No window. Just a whole lotta nothing. I’m starting to understand how this is the perfect punishment for us.
“You’re probably jet-lagged, so you can go ahead and set up.” Saffy’s tone is hella colder. “I leave the theater around eight. We have security cameras, so no funny business. There are a few restaurants open, so you won’t starve. Toilets are down the hall. Goodnight.”
She closes the door behind her, but it doesn’t click. It only swings open again, with a noisy squeak.
Lexi throws herself on the lower bunk, quick to claim it. “This is deceptively comfortable! The spring pokes just where you need it! This’ll be all right!”
Jax crouches and taps at the nightlight, smiling when it stops flickering and gets down to business. Satisfied, he chooses the bunk above Lexi, as far away from my stench as possible, I suppose. The smuggled candles seem to be helping, so hopefully he won’t have a panic attack sleeping in the same room as me.
“There’s something about Saffy.” I rest on the other lower bunk, the one that’s Lexi-less.
“What do you mean, friend?” Lexi fluffs her pillow. “Hang on. Wait a minute.”
Her cheeks puff and she starts gagging.
“Ugh! What are you doing?!”
She puts one finger in the air to silence me and dry heaves. In a moment of panic, I stand and rush around the room, frantic to find something that she can vomit into. I can’t stand mess! Before I can leave, she hurls up two bags that land by her feet, covered in saliva.
“That’s better!” She burps and begins rummaging through her bag. “It’s time to change into my comfortables! That’s what I call pajamas. They’ve got Christmas llamas on them,” she adds quietly.
I rack my brain. Christmas llamas… Christmas llamas…
“Do you mean reindeer?”
“That’s what I meant! What would I do without you? So, what about Saffy?”
Disgusted, I sit back down, trying to replace the visual of Lexi throwing up her bags with pleasant memories of decapitated humans and balls of yarn. Man, I wish I had a yarn ball right now. I haven’t batted one of those in a while.
“Saffy has green eyes,” I say slowly, trying to justify my suspicion.
“And?” Lexi pulls out a roll of floss and starts cleaning. When she offers her used string, I glare.
“I don’t see a lot of humans with green eyes. They’re… don’t you think they’re kinda like mine?”
“Sure.” Lexi shrugs. “If that’s what you want to think. Colt, you’re the last of your kind. Don’t go getting your hopes up.”
“I don’t think she’s a vampire cat. She’s just… different to other humans.”
Jax scratches his chin, which is already covered in hair. That boy sure does grow a beard quickly. “Not all humans are the same. They’re not as warped as you think they are. Maybe she’s just a nice girl.”
I shake my head. She can’t ‘just’ be a nice girl. There’s no such thing. All humans have a dark side, possibly even more so than monsters. Ugh. I hate the word monsters. It sounds so puerile. We need to come up with a better alternative.
“Why don’t you get to know her?” Lexi casually strips down in front of me and squeezes into her pajama bottoms—another image that will be difficult to remove.
“Excellent idea!” I say with a forced smile. It’s actually a terrible idea, but I need to get far away from the naked Leshi and P.C. pup.
I slink down the hallway, the empty theater giving me a severe case of goosebumps. Not in the pretentious it’s-so-magnificent-
dah-ling goosebumps, but more like someone-probably-died-in-here goosebumps.
It’s easy to get lost. Somehow, I end up in a different hallway that leads to a kitchenette and a dead end. Sighing, I turn back. Just wait, they’ll find my bones here a hundred years from now. What a way to wipe out my species; getting lost in a theater and starving to death.
I glance around the corner when Saffy squeals with delight. At the top of the stairs, she hugs another woman, one notably taller and slimmer.
“Brynn! It’s been, like, a million years!”
“Try two weeks,” Brynn responds, her voice playful and… I think that’s an English accent. Great. Nothing good ever came from an English accent. They’re either the villains or the temptresses. My question is, what is Brynn?
She rocks a crimson tee and black tights, her skin pale and her auburn hair full and wavy.
“Will you audition?” Saffy asks, tenderly holding Brynn by the elbows. Elbows? Really? What’s wrong with her hands?
“I’m here for other business,” Brynn says, her blinks slow and gradual. “To ensure I don’t make a commitment and run out on you, how about I help with lights and sound? I can pre-program them for opening night.”
“That would actually be a huge help, you know me and that techy stuff.”
“And who is your friend?” I flinch when Brynn spots me peeking around the corner. Her stare is ice-cold, but it’s nothing compared to mine. I’m the king of death stares. I’m a vampire cat, after all.
“Huh?” Saffy follows Brynn’s gaze. “Colt? Is that you?”
“Guilty.” I step forward and nod in acknowledgement. “Just went for a wander. Who is this charming creature?”
“This is Brynn!” Saffy introduces proudly. “She’s here to help us with all of that technician nonsense.”
Standoffish is an understatement when Brynn rolls her shoulders back and looks me up and down. “You don’t look like the theater type, Colt.”
“And you don’t look like the kind of gal who fiddles with knobs and buttons in the dark.” I grin. “You look more like a… posh door hostess.”
“Wrong!” Brynn laughs condescendingly. “I’m a professional horseback rider. I also hunt for a living.”
Colt Harper: Esteemed Vampire Cat Page 4