Splendificent

by Dacy Alex

  Chapter Nine: A Great American Bash

  Giselle had been speculating on how supernaturals got down. Did vampires throw going away parties? If demons don't celebrate Christmas, do they not do office Christmas parties in hell? Do fairies take the pixies to Chuck E. Cheese for their birthday? Would Dusty get offended if Giselle asked that?

  Such humdrum thoughts did not prepare her for the Great Belphegor Bash.

  Getting into the party had been as simple as Fleur presenting herself to a pair of seven-foot-tall security guards with matching flame tattoos on their neck. "I'm Satan's granddaughter and I came to get fucked up," was all it took for the crew to be let into the GBB.

  Giselle had to be almost dragged into the Chelsea-based ballroom. It had been her earnest wish to remain at the penthouse as being entertained by a prince of hell made her think she'd be served as a party snack. Dusty and Tristabelle convinced the others that Giselle wasn't safe by herself. Challenging Trusty seemed to carry more painful consequences than falling on a pitchfork so Giselle gave in without argument.

  Giselle taco, Giselle pizza, Giselle curry, the demons could serve me as anything, Giselle lamented. But she repeatedly said, be brave, Giselle. You're still the main character.

  When Giselle stepped into the ballroom, she found that the prince of hell knew how to bring heaven to earth.

  The entire room was turned in on itself in the most majestic visual way. The walls and ceiling were adorned with mirrors and lighting that reflected shards of color endlessly. There was a shallow pool on the floor, embellished with more mirrors and pinpricks of light.

  This kind of stuff exists outside Final Fantasy games?

  The only thing that didn't fit was the scattered gargoyle statues. If Giselle were the paranoid type or the Stuart type, she'd say their eyes were trailing people.

  Behind her gold feathery mask, Giselle looked at Fleur. The Bostonian's pale blue eyes gleamed from beneath her also feathery mask.

  All other eyes shone back at Fleur as she stunned in a white red dress with open sides and neckline so skimpy it was almost nonexistent.

  "That's a hot dress you're almost wearing, Fleur," Giselle commented.

  Tristabelle had asked her favorite dressmaker to put suitable attire through one of the magic portals. With delivery speeds faster than Amazon Prime, more dresses than they could use arrived at The Golden Land consulate.

  "You ain't so bad either," Fleur praised, drinking in Giselle's intoxicating sexiness of a mini-length purple dress with a halter top neckline

  As splendorous as the setting was, Giselle was more taken with the crowd. It was more than just a masked gathering, it was resplendent with people whose very bodies could only be dreamed by a costumer. Giselle had no clue if their glossed skin in reds, dark blacks, and greens were the work of body paint or if they were some type of supernatural.

  There was a small man regaling a gathering of women. He wore a black mask, but green pants, black belt buckle, and green top hat.

  He came dressed as a leprechaun? Wait, what if he is...no, don't be dumb Giselle.

  Giselle brushed aside the potential existence of leprechauns to ask Fleur, "Where's Belphegor?"

  "Probably in the restroom. He's the principal demon of the sin sloth. Which is why this shit makes no sense. If my job is to sit on the couch and jack off to HBO, I ain't gonna throw a party for the supernatural socialites of New York City."

  Giselle wanted to understand. Wanted to press Fleur for more information about the nature of this demon. But it was a world so far beyond her that even standing in it, she couldn't grasp it. It was like chasing an important piece of paper being pulled away by the wind.

  Luckily, Fleur continued, "Probably the greatest of all time demon sorcerer must have summoned him. Belphegor could wipe Chelsea off the map if his summoner wanted. But instead we get this. "

  Summoner. Also wish that had stayed in Final Fantasy.

  They passed by a small man with the most muscular arms Giselle had ever seen juggling serrated edge knives. It looked more like tree trunks throwing glinting blades than arms.

  Giselle wondered if it would be better to ask the man to stab her or wait until a demon sorcerer performed the deed.

  "Fleur, those are not the words I wanna hear. Remove demon sorcerer from my memory."

  "I can for normal humans. But you're some kind of weirdo."

  Even vampire-succubi think I'm weird.

  Fleur snatched a blood bag from a server the way a human might pluck a light snack. As Giselle looked around to see other blood bag toting waiters, she knew Belephegor made sure his undead guests had drink in plenty.

  "If you're Satan's granddaughter, can't we just demand Belpehgor give us back the amulet?"

  Fleur's full lips puckered to let out a distressed whistle. Then she added, "I'm the daughter of a saint. Those dicks from hell treat me like I got the Pope as a fuck buddy. It's a big pain in my ass to have a saint for a father. Even if he is the original vampire."

  "You're kinda cute when we're resigned to failure."

  Fleur and Giselle cut past a woman in a fluorescent orange mask and dress, who also had a foxtail.

  Sofi's people!

  "So how does one become a vampire-succubus?" Giselle wondered, squeezing past a woman in a raven mask, Giselle's least favorite animal.

  Fleur let out a small laugh, "My old man is Lazarus of Bethany, the first vampire ever. He basically caught a supernatural STD, but he tricked some local dupes into thinking Jesus raised him from the dead."

  Giselle had the distinct feeling the lord was going to strike them both with lightning.

  "About a hundred twenty years ago the dark lord, my grandfather Satan, sent him a proposal on ImpMessage. People stuck in the underworld can talk to people in the earth realm through imps sometimes."

  Eeep! She's really serious.

  "My gramps wanted to create the first demon-supernatural hybrid. So he paid my dad a dowry to get that good shit from my mom. You know what I mean?"

  I'm glad I don't!

  "So dad gets hooked up with my mom, Lotus. This dude pussies out and only bangs my mom missionary style. I can't believe I was conceived like that. How'd your parents fuck to get you?"

  "Drunkenly."

  "I know that feeling. So anyway mom steps into the bottomless burning pit for ten years, and after that, she emerges through the Pool of Doom with yours truly, a half-vampire, half-succubus. Succubi and Incubi can leave hell whenever, so we settled in Boston. I fought in a few wars, killed some Nazis, fucked Malcom X. Good times, good times."

  "Didn't you say you wanted to kill Saint Lazarus?" Giselle reminded Fleur.

  Fleur responded, "Only 'cause he wants to kill me. He's sick of paying child support, and his bitch ass sometimes says I'm not his daughter. I can't wait until Maury goes to hell because we're settling this shit."

  Hell has tougher child support laws than California.

  "I never told anyone this, but I used to have dreams I was being possessed by a demon!" Giselle mused. "When I was a kid a shadow woman crowned by mist would capture my body. Then one night an owl swooped down and saved me, and I never had those dreams again."

  Fleur looked at slim male triplets with red skin and forked tails. "Wonder if you were cursed. Or if you're still cursed. Well, if this shit goes south, maybe Dusty's dad will come beat some ass."

  "Is he really a wrestler?" Giselle pictured the cut-out of the half-naked Adonis.

  Fleur started a routine that could put legendary ring announcer Michael Buffer to shame. "Now making his way to the ring, hailing from Nashville, Tennessee, he weighs in at two hundred forty-five pounds. He is the four-time Fairy Revolution Wrestling heavy-weight champion of the world, and the six-time Fairy Revolution Wrestling tag team champion, 'The All-American Prick' Brady Blackwood!"

  Giselle gave her head a speedy series of shakes. Rapidly jiggling her brain was sure to explain how the bored tones of Fleur Flanagan turned into a different voice al
together.

  "Ugh, this blood is O-positive," Fleur stated, tossing the blood bag aside. "The vamps who drink this are worse than vegans."

  Giselle had tried to go vegan, but then her cruel cousin tricked her into eating turkey bacon in place of faux bacon.

  As Fleur looked out for another blood bag, Sofi approached the two. She moved with an unusually frantic pace, her long lips tight with concern.

  "Girls, girls, girls. I have terribly awful, miserable bad news," Sofi whined.

  "Listen, if you don't want the baby, my grandpa will take it," Fleur commented.

  "Eeep!" Giselle yelped.

  A blue-haired forty-something Asian man passed by admiring the buxom Sofi. There was more skin than dress. A strapless pink number of numerous bows made a weak effort in covering her mammalian protuberances, as Giselle labeled them. His admiration and worship of Sofi's human form led him to give her a fifty dollar bill and a business card.

  "For being so pretty," he said, getting a smile of thanks. Though Sofi's eyes were still big in concern.

  "What's wrong, Sofi?" Giselle asked while Sofi and Fleur looked over the black business card. It read Kabuso.

  Sofi looked up to announce, "Pavel Zykov is dead!"

  "Who?" Fleur was back to her lazy tones.

  "He had the One Night Curse. But how did he die?"

  "The article just said Russian millionaire dies quietly at cafe," Sofi informed them. "Boom, dead!"

  Was it a boom or was it quiet?

  "Ugh, I can't deal with this shit," Fleur commented. "Let's not rush and drop the dime to Big Sis Anika. She never knew Zykov was cursed. And guess what, bitches? We didn't either."

  "Don't worry, you two. I got news on this Belgianwafflephor," Sofi assured them, her concerned face easing into a softer expression. "This Belphadelphia or whatever doesn't talk with just anyone. Not even juicy as fuck babes like me."

  That cad!

  Sofi continued, "But he's into really bold entertaining women. Soooo that so means--"

  "Speak no more, my popular woodland friend," Giselle interrupted, her big blue eyes alive with confidence. "I've got a few good comedy routines about Xbox versus PlayStation. Not gonna lie, I will own the room. The programming club at school loved it."

  Confusion was scrawled across Sofi's face, her long lips held open in stupefaction. Fleur’s thick lips looked like they were about to hurl vomit.

  "Oh, for the love of Beelzebub," Fleur groaned with a roll of her pale blue eyes. "You must really want us to get kicked out, huh? This party has a ton of events and exhibits. All we gotta do is ball on these chumps, and he'll be on our dicks."

  Sofi received this with joyful clapping of her hands, "Fleur, I am so proud of you for transitioning to a man. Live your truth, my brother."

  "You inspired me, Sofi. I said, if this dummy is a woman, I can't share the same gender. And I can't share the same race either, so I'm transitioning to Aborigine."

  Reaching the top of the mountain to meet Belphegor might be difficult, Giselle found, when it's thick with astonishing climbers. There was the woman in a strapless yellow gown, who wasn't just wearing a wolf mask, she was wearing a wolf's head. Or was that her actual head? It's mane transitioned into flesh far too easily, far too comfortably.

  We have doors and walls to keep the wolves out of the parties. You don't lock yourself in with the wolves!

  "Uh, these aren't the kinds of people we'll find at the Hemera Carnival," Giselle fretted. "How are we supposed to stand out against wolf people and leprechauns?"

  "Yeah, this is another pain in the ass," Fleur groaned, "but I drank a whole bottle of vodka and got fucked up on some dust blunts before coming, so I should be able to do something."

  Fleur's desire to show off was being fulfilled as Dusty was engaged in a spectacular archery affair.

  What Giselle figured must be holographic projections were targets of several angels. They were all made up of glowing golden lights. Translucent bodies made them into constellations, and Dusty was shooting toy arrows into the sky against a less than equal foe in an all-black dress.

  "I win!" the proud eighteen-year-old leaped into the air. Dusty was without a bra as usual, which made her boobs quite jiggly and a noticeable attraction to even a blind man.

  Dusty danced around in her green dress that sort of reminded Giselle of Tinkerbell's. But fearful of smackdowns, Giselle sure as shit wasn't going to tell Dusty that.

  Even behind her red rooster mask, Dusty's opponent was clearly fuming, eyes rapidly blinking, breath coming heavy and hard.

  "You cheated," the woman declared as both females handed their bows to the next players.

  Jiggling and bouncing gave way to a hard stare from Dusty's baby doll eyes behind a chipmunk mask. Her unmasked chipmunk cheeks burned with fury.

  This is going to be worse than when Sofi said wrestling is fake.

  "Woman, I'm gonna tell you what my pa, Brady Blackwood, and my uncle Baron told the Twilight Express before their dog collar cage match. "When ya talk like that, you ain't gotta worry about me cheating, you gotta worry about you breathing."

  Faced with one angry chipmunk, the lady realized she erred. She embodied the ethos of "quick to back down" and hurried away from the clenched fists of a girl she was a foot taller than. Dusty was in fuck-a-truce mode and was ready to stomp a mudhole in the woman and walk it dry.

  Giselle swooped in with Dawn Nyfall like speed. She dragged Dusty away from her intended victim before she could do more bodily harm before classes start.

  "Lemme go!"

  Muscling aside 4'11" of sugar-infused rage proved a difficult task. Especially so when your so-called friends were just participating in some underage drinking.

  "Dusty, you can't just go around threatening people," Giselle said while Fleur slammed more vodka.

  "I ain't no cheater! I won everything I done ever did, fair and square."

  Fleur couldn't believe what she'd just heard and stared hard at Dusty, "Hold up, you never lost anything?"

  "I ain't never lost. Fights, volleyball, dirt bike racin'. If we're playing, I'm winnin'."

  Fleur could believe what she'd heard. The others could too, possibly because they had gotten a fist shaken in front of their faces.

  Though Dusty almost made Giselle an accessory to a murder it seemed to have attracted the attention of brawny suited men atop a balcony. As Giselle was finding, there were benefits to the girls' madness.

  "I think we're getting noticed," Giselle noted, giving a cheesy thumbs up.

  Problematically, the girls attracted a rotund man in a fuzzy grey mask who clamped his hand on Giselle's shoulder.

  "I smell human," he cooed, baring gold vampire fangs.

  "Son, if that hand isn't off her shoulder in ten seconds," Dusty began "then you're gonna find that hand shoved ten inches up your sorry ass."

  Hand removed. Fat man hustling away. Human saved. Pixie pleased.

  Sofi frowned as she gazed up at a granite door lodged between two mirrors, "Not fast enough. Madam Wanda said if we don't save the guys with the quickness, they could be stuck like that forevs."

  Tristabelle twirled into the group, her sparkling crystal-littered dress fluttering about, the light from the mirrors turning her into a 5'10" ocean dazzled with sun glitter.

  "Children, I have the solution."

  Any gamer knew when there's a tough dungeon, you roll with your strongest party member. And Giselle had seen there's no one stronger than a princess who tortured gang members with thousand dollar pumps and browbeat them with languages that existed before Christ.

  "Dusty, if you would please, come with me," Tristabelle requested.

  Dusty's face brightened with such grand glee one would never know the irascible pixie was about to maul a woman in a rooster mask.

  "Giselle, it would be most desirable if you accompanied us," Tristabelle announced to a loud scoff from Dusty.

  Of course Giselle had to come! What did Dusty know? The toughest charact
er in the game would be nothing without the plucky resolve of the main character.

  "What's going on?" Sofi asked.

  Tristabelle replied, "I have found a group, an influential one, whose splendiferous lust for elves, fae, and humans makes for a satiable fetish. Far simpler than if they had a ghoul and goblin fetish like some."

  Fleur planted her hands on her hips, "I won't be judged by the likes of you."

  "Wait," Giselle said, hand up, "You really want me to go?"

  "Despite your vapid personality, and your rather inane stream of commentary, you exhibit a certain sexiness, a certain erotic heat."

  "You probably could have only said the third part," Giselle admonished Tristabelle with her head hung low.

  Tristabelle went on, "If we impress them, then perhaps the road to Belphegor lays open."

  Impress them? Certainly not with her encyclopedic World of Warcraft knowledge. But the way Tristabelle spoke, this was a command on the battlefield not a request from a roommate. As eager as Giselle was to grope, kiss, fondle, basically molest the pixie and the elf, she wasn't certain being at the mercy of the VIP list of a demon party was conducive to living to see nineteen. Though having the deadliest figure-skater since Tonya Harding and a woman who can weaponize the world's most abundant resource watching her back could avert any danger. On the other hand, the road to Belphegor could be paved with Giselle roadkill.

  "Isn't this kind of dangerous? Like super kind of dangerous?" Giselle pondered. "These could be terrible, terrible people."

  "Giselle, those in our position have no choice. We may have to crush a cup of wine with necromancers or demon sorceresses. Or...," she tilted her head to the other girls, "we may be forced to ally with reprobates, alcoholics, and fools."

  Offense marked Sofi's furrowed brow, "Don't call Fleur a fool."

  "She was talking about you, fool," Fleur shot back.

  "Heavens, no. It was meant to be a catchall for all of you."

  Giselle was bedeviled by uncertainty. The stakes kept escalating, and the danger never left. If her first couple days in New York had been punctuated with kidnappings, murders, torture, and incredible parties, what would parents’ day at Hemera be like?