Monster Stalker

by Elizabeth Watasin

  “When some do, they act alone, and for purposes unkind,” Shayla answered, solemn. “Wield veils, and ye can appear from any closet or beneath any bed. That’s where nightmares come from.”

  Nico’s fingers hovered before the arch’s space. She slowly inserted them and watched her hand disappear. When she flexed her invisible fingers, she felt their presence within a warmer place, one of sunlight. But she could imagine her hand existing in a dimensional slice not so benign.

  “I wouldn’t feel the boogeyman coming,” Nico said.

  Die Albträume sind so schlimm, Esche had said.

  Nightmares, Nico thought.

  “Aye, and neither would I,” Shayla said. “Ye enter the faerie realm in this manner. It’s invisible travellin’ within invisible places. Can ye see now how it’s not weird work?”

  “A little.” Nico set aside thoughts of boogeymen and removed her hand. Her fingers remained whole. “I bet you’ll say veil work is not sorcery, either. You have a way of narrowing witch stuff down to unbelievable things.” She turned to Shayla and grinned.

  “Unbelievable?” Shayla repeated, raising a brow.

  “Ludicrous.”

  “Like turning ye into a kitten?”

  Nico shut her mouth.

  “Dinnae look so scared,” Shayla said lightly. “I’m only teasin’.”

  “I’m certain you’d try it,” Nico accused. “Just once.”

  “Only if ya’d let me.” Shayla touched Nico’s nose. Nico held it and grinned again. “Now, my brave Niky. Would ye like tae see what lies beyond?”

  Nico nodded. “Yes. But me first. In case there are boogeymen.” And Nico stepped through.

  She stood on pale, veldt grass at the beginning of a labyrinth, the pattern laid on the ground with natural stones. The rich, primal scent of land, untouched by hands, brought her fangs to the fore. Shayla came beside her, and Nico looked at the bright, blue sky and warm sunlight. A butterfly fluttered by, and the wind tugged at her and Shayla’s clothes and hair. Shayla lightly touched Nico’s back, the gesture to soothe, and Nico put her vampire aspect away.

  “The hidden kingdoms,” Nico said softly. “Shouldn’t a slice resemble the one we left?” Odd, twisted trees stood in the distance, and the rough grass rolled on into the horizon. She saw neither people nor animals, but at the outer perimeter of the labyrinth, metal discs lay embedded, similar to the ones used by 1634. Wherever she and Shayla were, it was intended to remain pristine.

  “It does, love. This is the land before Again NewYork came to be,” Shayla said. “It reminds us to honour what we’ve borrowed from this world. Would ye like to walk, Niky?”

  Nico took a breath. A labyrinth was not simply a maze, but a tool for the soul.

  “Because you’re here with me...yes.” Nico entered.

  In 1986, Nico walked the labyrinth within Chartres cathedral, still healing from fresh stab wounds and the word “why” seemingly carved into her heart. When she reached the centre, she’d looked at the vaultings on high and thought: if martyred saints could stand such suffering, couldn’t she?

  Then Nico laughed, the sound rising and echoing, until the great house of God reverberated with her absurd lamentation.

  Somehow she’d left despair in the middle of the labyrinth and emerged armed, if not with faith she could win against him, at least faith that she still had fight in her.

  Nico followed the path while the breeze played with their clothes, Shayla following a short distance behind her. They walked to the inside, and then to the outer paths, and finally closer and closer to the centre, each step an unassuming meandering of the unsuspecting soul, oblivious to the key it might discover. Nico reached the centre and stepped inside.

  In that moment, she knew an unburdening was possible, one released from her heart’s box, a magician’s dove flying. But Nico did not desire that knowledge from herself right then as much as she wanted it from someone else.

  She watched Shayla enter the centre. When she looked at Nico, her regard held a depth Nico felt she could fall into. Nico held her hands out, and Shayla grasped them.

  “I want to ask you something—something that may make you mad at me,” Nico whispered.

  “Ye’re full of questions, aren’t ya?” Shayla said, her tone low. “Might I ask a question or two of you, next time?”

  “Yes,” Nico. Yes, to many next times. She took a breath.

  “You fought in Slaughter Spawn.”

  Shayla’s eyes widened, then shielded, and her body seemed to draw away without moving. But she still held Nico’s hands, and for that, Nico was grateful.

  “I just...I saw it, and it was you,” Nico said. “All the footage is misattributed. That’s not your sister in the pit.”

  “How.” Shayla briefly smiled but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. “How dae ye know it’s not Shy?”

  “Your sister has no reason to be horrified,” Nico whispered.

  Shayla’s gaze distanced; Nico held Shayla’s warm hands tightly, wanting to will her pain away.

  Perhaps I’m not so great at goodness. Perhaps I only understand what’s sad.

  She looked at Shayla. But perhaps more, I want to know how a killer like you can remain good, when others choose to be so bad.

  “Shy was our most beloved,” Shayla said, her tone soft. “The best of the wise kind. When she was taken and murdered, I gave more than eye for eye. I killed every vampire of the clan responsible.

  “And I was the witch with the vampire lover. Shen Jin was new to Darqueworld. Ey was of no family or clan, and I trusted em; I trusted em to help me rescue Shy, and ey made Shy a vampire instead.” Shayla looked at Nico, her gaze uncomprehending. “To save her life, ey said.”

  Make me like you, a dying girl had asked Nico. Nico had refused, and watched her die.

  “When she rose,” Shayla whispered.

  When she rose, it was too late for you to kill her.

  “I was the coven’s pistol,” Shayla said. “Their peacekeeper. I gave up the badge that day. And that night, while I was killin’ vampires, Shy killed our coven.”

  Shayla’s hands slackened within Nico’s, and Nico understood: the stopping. It was the paralysis that came with horror given the soul. Herself, standing over the remains of dead parents until sunrise. Esche on her bed, uncomprehending. But Shayla had not remained paralysed after the coven’s slaughter.

  “I went into the pit tae see,” Shayla said softly.

  “See what?” Nico whispered.

  “In there, ye can look upon the face of evil. After Shy died and rose a vampire, I needed tae know.

  “If what I saw in her—in myself—was in the pit.”

  Shayla looked at Nico.

  “That face is in their tunnel. Whenever ye wonder why I like ye, Niky, know that I don’t see that face in you.”

  ***

  When she and Shayla exited the labyrinth, Nico felt words might tumble out, nonsensical and incoherent. Of deaths, words carved into flesh, and of a maker gone up in flames. But it was not her time for confession. There remained a blank in her mind, a hidden boogeyman, and a missing piece named Esche. The labyrinth hadn’t the power to lighten the problems that hadn’t yet been given their answers...or the deeds that would solve them.

  Nico left the veldt with Shayla, and wondered.

  Once in the Zen garden, Nico felt she should hug Shayla, especially after demanding so painful a confession from her, but she was still unused to such gestures. She paused, removed Bear from his harness, and offered him to Shayla instead.

  Shayla put a hand to her mouth, her gaze mirthful, then took Nico and brought her firmly into a hug, Bear squished between them. The entire grandstand of Bears inside Nico did a somersault.

  Shayla pulled back. “Come, Niky. I want tae gie ye something.”

  They entered the Immigration Centre’s vast lobby and encountered no detectors or other security measures, reminding Nico again that she was no longer on Old Earth. Beings milled, the lobby f
loor exposed to the arcades above. Beneath a floating glass sculpture, a player sat at a grand piano, dressed in formal black despite the early hour. He played a familiar tune, the tinkling notes rising along with Nico and Shayla as they rode an escalator for above. He played Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

  They gained the next storey with Nico belatedly noticing that her own crystal-clear reflection had been present in the mirrored wall behind her while she had watched the piano player below. Thankfully, she’d no time to be disturbed by her double. Shayla led her to the Centre’s gift shop.

  It was gaudily filled with Again NewYork souvenirs, complete with tee shirts and snow globes. But little bins in the back held one-inch buttons, and Shayla pointed to them.

  “On Darqueworld, ye may come across our allegories,” she said, “formed as idols and guardians: the goddess, the god, the fire, and the mystery. Which pin-back would ye like, Niky?”

  Nico examined the buttons, intrigued. Though Shayla had said “god” and “goddess”, both figures seemed of mixed gender. The black void of the mystery button drew her, its centre containing a dot of brightness that was either a star or an atom symbol.

  “The mystery,” Nico chose.

  Outside the gift shop, Shayla pinned the button to Nico’s cardigan front with as much gravity and grace as a knighting.

  “Bless this one, named Nico,” Shayla intoned, and completed the pinning. Nico beamed, feeling ready to take a sword to a dragon—or a very little dragon. Or to no dragon, as she doubted that Shayla would approve of dragon killing.

  “Now I want to give you something,” Nico said.

  “Oh, but ya did already, didn’t ya,” Shayla said, and gave the front of Nico’s cardigan a playful tweak.

  “Heh,” Nico said, as Shayla smoothed out her cardigan. Nico grinned, goofy all over again. They crossed the floor and passed groups in business attire—or who had at least thrown on a suit jacket or clean, button-down shirt—waiting before a block of elevators. Some held Ids similar to Nico’s, and looked at them.

  “What is the highest court in Darqueworld?” one woman asked another, consulting her Id.

  “The Supreme Tribunal,” the second woman answered quickly, and Nico thought that if she’d had a buzzer to hit in order to answer the question, she would have struck it.

  The citizenship exam. “Is it like this, every day?” Nico said as she and Shayla approached the escalator.

  “I dinnae ken. Not all who arrive on Darqueworld stay,” Shayla said. “I’ve seen many come tae Lucy’s who go on tae the stars.”

  “The stars,” Nico repeated, awed. “Have you ever gone—out there, to beyond?”

  Shayla shook her head. “I followed my sister Shy from the Isle tae here. That’s as far as I’ve come. My younger sister, Shane, enlisted, so she’s servin’ among the stars.” Nico followed Shayla on to the downward escalator and took the step behind her.

  Oh crap. Her doppelgänger stared at her from the escalator’s mirrored wall, reaching for her own knife. It was either punch her double or—

  Nico jumped the escalator’s side and landed on the marble floor below. The clap of her shoes echoed, startling people.

  When Shayla descended and reached her side, a security host had already approached Nico and was finishing a quiet conversation with her.

  “Sorry,” Nico said to Shayla when the host departed.

  “Niky, who bothered ye?” Shayla asked, concerned.

  Is this boy bothering ye, Nicky? her maker said.

  “It was, um. It was me,” Nico admitted. “My reflection. I have catoptrophobia. Does hypnotherapy really work?”

  “Oh it does, they use the Po and psionic workers,” Shayla said, “tae touch yer mind and lessen the feelings of pain and fear; the nature of bad recollections. Did yer reflection threaten ye?” she added in a gentle tone.

  Nico exhaled. “Yes.” She held Bear. “Every time I see her, I think I’m looking at the true Nico...my maker’s Nico.”

  “That’s not a good thing, then?” Shayla asked.

  “No. I don’t think she’s a very nice Nico.”

  And she’s going to catch up to me.

  ***

  Shayla wanted to ask. Nico could see it, but Shayla refrained long enough for Nico to start walking, unprepared to say more. She didn’t want to ruin their time together with horrifying, vampire childhood tales. They exited the lobby for the forecourt and descended the front steps. But when they reached the final landing before the walk, Shayla moved across to the sweeping, latticed balustrade, bringing Nico with her. The balustrade curved with the landing to form a little lookout point, and Shayla stood, back against the railing, putting Nico before her.

  “Ye’re a girl of mysteries, aren’t cha?” Shayla said to her, soft. “When ye’re ready, ye can share with me, Niky.”

  Ye can share with me Nicky, her maker said.

  Nico looked at her, wide-eyed.

  “But we’re still not dating,” she clarified.

  Shayla smiled.

  Then Nico smelled—

  Chasse Geraud Soeurs.

  Nico glanced up and saw Heloise on the steps above, a cigarette at her pursed lips and the pack in her hands. Sharp brow raised, she seemed as surprised to see Nico as Nico was to see her. Nico quickly averted her gaze, but not before Shayla looked up too, curious.

  Shayla brought her arm up to rest around Nico’s shoulders.

  Heloise’s descending high heels laconically sounded on the concrete steps. She passed near enough for Nico to catch the peeking bright red, satin lining within the other vampire’s black suit jacket. Heloise stopped beside Nico and Shayla and brought her cigarette down from her lips.

  “Got a light?” she asked Shayla, and put the cigarette to her smirking mouth again.

  Shayla kept her arm around Nico and raised the other, gesturing with two fingers—come—and Heloise obligingly leaned forwards. Shayla touched the side of Heloise’s cigarette with the same two fingers, and both she and Heloise stilled. The cigarette’s end ignited.

  “Oh,” Nico breathed. Heloise sucked, the end burning red. She moved back, removed the cigarette from her lips, and exhaled to the side.

  “Thanks,” Heloise said, her smile sardonic. She turned and continued across the landing and down the steps, the deep Bulgarian rose of her outsoles flashing behind black stiletto heels.

  “Ah, such legs,” Shayla whispered in Nico’s ear. “That yer Countess Bathory, then?”

  “Um.” Nico hoped Heloise didn’t eavesdrop with her vampire’s hearing. Heloise finished her descent to the walk, a hand flicking back her jacket end and coming to rest on her hip. She stood with chin raised, and brought her hand with the cigarette down. She ejected a stream of smoke from her lips. Her sharp gaze, resting on nothing in particular, caused a young man to trip down the stairs. Heloise flicked her cigarette.

  “Show off,” Nico muttered, and Shayla laughed, low in her throat, and hugged Nico to her.

  ***

  The underground station was so conveniently near, and Nico wished it conveniently far. Shayla had the evening shift at Lucy’s and needed her sleep. They stood outside the entrance leading down.

  “Thank you for spending time with me,” Nico said, “and for tolerating the questions I asked.”

  Shayla shook her head. “As long as what I’d telt ye helps, Niky, that’s what matters. And it helped me too. I don’t often get tae share about the pit.”

  “You are so beautiful today,” Nico blurted. “You’re beautiful everyday.”

  “Thank ye.” Shayla smiled.

  “I should have said that at the beginning, but I got carried away. We’re still not dating, are we?”

  “No, love. We’re not.” Shayla’s eyes sparkled with mirth.

  “Okay, good, because I don’t want to get creepy. I hope I can gift you lots and lots of sex. It’s nearly your time of month.” She clapped a hand over her mouth and Shayla laughed.

  “I should’ve known ya’d be a w
omb lover. Ah love, that’s me, I must away,” she said, wistful. She leaned to give Nico a kiss.

  Nico leaned as well, her hand coming up to lay on Shayla’s arm. She air kissed next to Shayla’s right cheek, and then to her left.

  When Nico straightened, Shayla looked at her with surprise.

  “Oh. In Again NewYork, is the air kiss for four times?” Nico asked.

  Shayla smiled, lightsome. She raised her hand and her thumb touched Nico’s lower lip.

  It was a light caress, the softest brush. Then Shayla withdrew. She turned and descended.

  Nico touched her mouth. “Ohhh,” she said to Bear.

  ***

  Nico circled the shooting fountain and processed a similar circling within, of joy, then despair (as she already missed Shayla) back to joy again, then frustration (she really hated being poor and unable to afford fancy outings). But then she thought about giving Shayla lots of sex and was elated once more. At some point too, she would learn to welcome kissing on the mouth again. She sent Shayla a message .

  Thank you for a wonderful time. Can I see you again?

  She circled the fountain more, hoping the message hadn’t been a mistake. Her Id chimed and Nico looked at it eagerly.

  The morra? My shift’s not known yet.

  Aye. Yes. Yes.

  Magic.

  “She’s pure magic,” Nico said to Bear, and hugged him. Then she fetched her sound-buds and put them in.

  Dorothy, play me This Corrosion, the long version, she typed. She wandered out of the plaza, curious to see if, like the old Manhattan, she might come across Tiffany’s. She also decided to look up Shen Jin. She was certain thon was the vampire following Shayla around three years ago.

  When she activated the most prominent link, it brought Shen’s battered face and body to the fore.

  It took Nico a moment to realise that she was looking at cryptic gun damage. A holo video played, running the words: When HATE is a crime. Fight sanguivoriphobia.