Cirque du Macabre (1)

An urban fantasy

Chapter 1: Something called a life

“Played with dolls again, huh, Oddity?” Tiff’s question followed Odry down the hall. Odry looked over her shoulder. Tiff flashed a snow-white smile, her duck-like bottox lips shone with the glaze of the raspberry pink lip gloss.

“At least I have a job, unlike some,” Odry retorted, and bent down to take the shoes off before entering her room.

“I wouldn’t show that ass to anyone with two functioning eyes, not even to a proctologist!” Tiff rolled her eyes as she slipped her velvet-smooth, freshly pedicured feet into a pair of red, glossy latex pumps.

“I’m actually surprised you know what a proctologist is. Don’t answer! I don’t want to know!” Odry disappeared behind her door and slammed it shut.

“I’m off! At least I have something called a life. You know - friends, sex, having fun… unlike some. Don’t wait up, Oddity!” Tiff yelled at the closed door.

Odry heard the click of her landlady’s heels as Tiffany went outside, the door closed.

Something called a life… Odry’s life was finally making sense, although someone like Tiff would disagree. Odry had a good, safe job in a little Doll museum with a cute  Doll shop.

Odry had to take care of dolls all day long - brush their hair, wash and change their dusty clothes, help the owner - Mrs. Mellow with the restoration, go to jumble sales to find new-old dolls, etc. Tiff thought it to be the oddest job in the world, hence the nickname Oddity. Both young women couldn’t stand each other’s guts, but Tiff needed the money and Odry - a cheap place to live. They shared Tiff’s grandpa’s old house; Tiff had inherited it, but couldn’t afford to inhabit the house alone, especially considering the frequency in which Tiff managed to lose jobs.

In the twenty-two years of her life Odry had seen nothing but bad luck. For the two years she had lived on her own in the city and worked at Mrs. Mellow’s, Odry finally felt somewhat normal. Completely ordinary. A nobody. A plain Jane. And she enjoyed every minute of being unnoticed.

She kicked an old tape-recored on the floor, the device was held together by ducktape and pure miracle. A rare possession of hers - each and every technical device owned by Odry had broken  down sooner or later. Mostly it happened in her sleep - the TV exploded, the microwave went off in blue sparks like a fire-cracker. Not to mention all the smart devices - she didn’t bother to buy herself a smart-phone, because those  just froze completely in her presence. Teachers in her home town would muse themselves by making Odry go on patrol through each classroom every morning - all the students’ smart-phones died a thousand deaths and could not be revived for hours.

She broke stuff and stuff always broke in her presence. Either it fell from her hands or flew into the air all of a sudden. And if that was not enough - the devices would travel around the house in her sleep and fall or blow up at the end of their flight.

The tape-recorder gave out a cracking noise, before it played a melodious tune - Camille Saint-Saëns’s “Mon coeur s’ouvre a ta voix”. Her grandma was insanely in love with opera, and Odry missed her dearly after the old lady passed away. The girl kicked off her jeans and fell onto the matress in the corner of her room. Odry’s bed broke to bits the night she moved in, and she didn’t even bother buying a new one.

Odry happily drifted off into dreamland, soothed by the gentle aria. She woke up from a painfully familiar cracking noise - the tape-recorder died again. Of course, it had been quiet for hours, but with Odry being near, the poor device was fighting for it’s life. The only reason it didn’t explode was all the duck-tape wrapped around it. Oh, well! Maybe it would come back to life later, this one usually  did.

But it wasn’t all she heard - the door opened, Tiff’s heels clicked on the floorboards, followed by some other footsteps.

Oh, great! Tiff’s got company! Her landlady would occassionally bring home her prey - usually handsome, wealthy young or young-ish men.

Odry turned on the duck-taped light on her nightstand and looked at the clock, that was duck-taped directly to the wall. It was 3 a.m. Tiff’s home early. Which meant only one thing - they will be at it for hours.

“You know, I have a thing for goth guys since my teens…” Tiff’s voice melted into her own drunken giggling, “but you are next level of goth-i-ness…”

The man mumbled something vague for an answer. Tiff kicked off her shoes, the red latex monsters hit Odry’s door. Enough was enough! The girl rolled off her matress and stumbled her way to the door. She opened it in a tiny gap to assess the situation.

Tiff was all over the guy, who indeed appeared gothic from head to toes.

“A smart goth, not your usual type, Tiff,” Odry thought looking at the guy’s fine, black suit.

“You must be a vampire, you look like that guy from the movie, Edvard… was that your name?” Tiff giggled kissing the guy’s neck.

“That’s not my name,” he replied coldly.

Odry rolled her eyes - she had no interest in listening to Tiff’s drunk pondering, not to mention all that should follow. She kicked the tape-recorder with all her strength. Luckily it worked! Odry turned the volume to the max, and rummaged her night stand drawer for some ear-plugs. The voices in the hallway disappeared. Odry was in her own little world again. Just before the girl had turned to fall onto her matress, the door slammed open. The goth guy stood in the doorway looking at her. If Odry would have to describe a vampire - this would be it. Dressed in smart black, the dark-haired man stared at her with the coldest blue eyes ever seen.

The man spoke, but of course, Odry couldn’t hear a thing because of the ear plugs. She stood in front of him staring foolishly,  in her far-from-cute underwear and a sweaty T-shirt. He stepped closer. The man spoke without a sound, Odry frowned - she noticed Tiff’s bare feet lying on the floor behind the dark figure. He cupped Odry’s face with a pair of ice-cold hands, she was too shocked to run or fight, or at least take the damn ear plugs out, instead she tried to read from his lips.

“I have come to kill you,” Odry read, before  all went dark.

***

Odry woke up staring into a pair of wolf-like eyes.

“Is she waking up?” some voice asked from behind him.

“Yeah, she’s getting there,” the wolf guy replied, turned to look over his shoulder and yelled, “would you quit that?! You’re giving me a f*cking headache!”

Odry screamed like a mad woman, a mirror cracked and a couple of light bulbs surrounding it exploded. The people in the room yelled.

“What was Bastille thinking, bringing this lunatic here?!” a gril shouted.

Odry sat up, she was covered with a cigarette-stench soaked blanket, she pulled it up to her chin. The predator was a young man with a  pair of amber coloured Wolf eyes, a wild silvery-grey stack of hair on his head and a wolfishly vicious expression on his face.

“Relax, kid! We’re friends!” he smirked looking into Odry’s steel-grey eyes.

Suddenly she remembered Tiff’s feet lying lifeless on the wooden floor and the vampire approaching her. Odry frantically touched her own neck up and down.

“The vampire! He killed Tiff! Where am I? Who are you?”

“The blondie? Nah, she’ll be fine! Linden is creepy, but he’s not the murderous type,” the Wolf guy reassured her.

Other people approached Odry. A pair of baby-faced twins - a boy and a girl. Odry would’ve laughed out loud if she wasn’t horrified by the whole situation; those faces looked like dolls, cute and childish, they seemed both young and old at the same time. One of them - the boy, had a smoking cigarette in the corner of his mouth. The girl had smudged mascara all over her eyes, she was the one at the mirror trying to clean her make-up off when the light bulbs blew up.

“I said, put the f*cking cig out, or I’ll shove your ass out!” the Wolf-guy yelled at the baby-faced smoker.

The latter stepped away.

“Sorry for the language, hon. Our Mat has a sensitive nose,” the baby-faced girl spoke to Odry kindly.

“Who are you people? Where am I?”

The wolfish guy called Mat stood up, and with a wide, pompous gesture he said,

“Welcome to the greatest f*cking spectacle on this side of the planed “Cirque du Macabre”, and we’re the awesomest company of performers your pretty eyes will ever see!” he bowed to the unamused public.

“Shut the f*ck up, Mat! You’re pathetic!” the smoker yelled from the dark corner, the light from his cigarette glaring on his cute face.

Mat ran up to him and punched the baby-face’s jaw. Both began a stupid fight.

“Quit it, you idiots! Winnie!” the baby-faced girl called out to someone. That happened to be a giant. No kidding, Odry had never ever seen a person so huge. Surprisingly, she didn’t notice him earlier, because the giant had been sitting in the corner of the room completely still, like a statue.

Winnie went to the boys rolling on the ground and fighting, he pulled them apart and shook them like two ragged dolls.

“Alright, Winnie! Let go!” both yelled with their feet dangling in the air. The giant dropped them with a growl and sat back, staring at Odry. Obviously, he had been doing so all the time.

Odry looked aroud. They indeed appeared to be in a circus tent, it seemed like a bacskstage room with make-up tables and mirrors, some props and glittering costumes.

“So you’re a circus band? Why am I here? And… and the vampire wasn’t a vampire? What did he do to Tiff?” Odry still sat hiding behind the blanket with her eyes peeping out.

“Of course, he’s a vampire! What did you expect? A  f*cking pixie to drag you here?” Mat gave the baby-face a grin, the latter spat at his feet.

“Just stop it, you two! Idiots!” the baby-faced girl sat on the side of Odry’s bed, “don’t freak out! I know it’s hard to believe, but Linden really is a vampire. Kind of,”

“Linden?”

“That’s his name. The guy who got you here. Well, not entirely. We helped. Linden can’t be touching people a lot. Let’s call him an energetic vampire. Ever heard of those?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. My Grandma was superstitious. She secretly put safety pins on my clothes. She said, it’s against the energy vampires who suck energy…” Odry heard herself say and couldn’t belp but feel like an idiot.

“A smart lady, your Gran. My Nonna…”

“Oh, hell no! Shut up Mat!” the twins yelled simultaneously at the Wolf-guy.

“What?!” he acted all surprised.

“Mateo can go on about his legendary Nonna all day long,” the baby-faced girl rolled her eyes, “I’m Daffy, by the way, and that dweeb smoking in the corner is my brother Danny,” the girl reached out her small hand for Odry to shake. Automatically, she shook the narrow palm, and gave a quick look to the corner. The baby-faced Danny had lit another cigarette, he waved.

“And I’m the finest f*cking italian wolf in town, Mateo, at your service!” The wolf guy bowed theatrically.

“Show off!” Daffy shook her head, “our Mat will probably try to hit on you, it’s mating season for him everyday, just ignore the idiot,” she explained in her tiny voice.

“Shut up Daffodile! You and Dandeline are just a pair of f*cking frigid pixies!”

Danny jumped up from his corner and marched toward Mateo with all the determination of a speeding locomotive.

“Winnie!” Daffy squeeled. The giant stood up between the two, but he didn’t need to step in this time. Another man entered the tent, the boys stopped in their tracks, all eyes turned to the man; his presence possessed an alluring sense of gravitas. He was tall, slender and well-built, dressed in a posh black suit with silver ornaments, black haired and black-bearded with deadly pale skin. Odry got the feeling she’s seen his ice-blue eyes before. The man approached Odry, she snugged into the blanket and curled in a ball.

“Welcome, Odette! I’m glad to greet you here at last!” he spoke in a low, idle voice with a slight french accent.

Odry was terrifiend to death, she didn’t dare to speak or even move. She shivered, and the lights in the tent flickered nervously along with her.

The man glanced at the lights.

“We shall teach you to be in control,” the man smiled.

“Let me introduce you to your new famille de cirque, mon cher Odette!” he gestured at the band of weirdos Odry had already met.

“This is our proud italian wolf Mateo,”

The latter bowed once more, but with the man looking at him, this time Mateo moved like a graceful dancer.

“Out lovely fées jumelles, Fumo and Specula,”

The baby-faced siblings both got up and also bowed gracefully with their moves mirroring each other’s. (The boy had dropped his cigarette and stepped on it the second the black-haired man entered.)

“Our homme fort Hercule,”

The giant got up and bowed his head slowly.

“And our lovely monstre de la nature Rouge,”

Another girl appeared from the dark corner, Odry didn’t see her before. The girl was a beautiful red head, with rosy cheeks, but the look in her eyes was blank and indifferent. Odry couldn’t help but thinking that those were the eyes of a doll. Rouge didn’t bow, just tilted her head awkwardly and went back into her dark corner.

“Sir, please, why am I here? If you’ ve kidnaped me, please let me go - I don’t have anybody to pay the ransome. And I’m worthless in any other sense…” Odry pleaded quietly. Her heart pounded like never before and all the lights in the tent went wild flickering, another light bulb exploded.

“Do not fear, Odette! You are safe,” the man consoled her, “I am Monsieur Bastille, and I would like to have a word with you,” he took Odry’s shaking hand and kissed it. The girl felt faint, no, not from the courteous gesture. It seemed like the strength was sucked out of her limbs. The lights stopped twitching, she reclined on the bed.

“Leave us!” Monsieur Bastille commanded.

“You have a lot of questions. Let me answer at least some of them,” he spoke slowly pacing around the tent.

Odry sat up again.

“You’ re here, because you are special. You, Odette are a precious gem worth more than you can imagine. I shall make you shine for all the world to see,”

“I don’t understand,” she chirped.

“You possess power to control objects - both technical and not. Haven’t you noticed it?”

Odry sat in silence thinking. Suddenly her bad luck started to make sense.

“I can teach you to be the mistress of your power, because until now you have not mastered it,”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to be the star of my show, the star you were born to be. And you will shine, I promise,”

Odry remembered her workplace - the Doll museum, the kind Mrs. Mellow, her little duck-taped room with the old tape-recorder.

“No, this is nonsense. I must be having a nightmare. I want to wake up and go home,” Odry came back to her senses. This could not be happening. She was about to get up, but the man sat on the side of the bed and looked into her eyes sternly.

“You are free to leave anytime you want, but… tell me, who will protect the people around you from yourself?”

“What do you mean, sir…Monsieur?”

“Do you know how your parents died?” he asked innocently.

“In a car accident, right after my birth, on their way from the hospital. The car brakes got stuck. How do you know…?”

“And how did your lovely Grandmother pass?” Monsieur interrupted her.

“She had a heart condition, and her heart stimulator broke,”

“Both technical malfunctions. What a strange coincidence!” He smirked coldly.

“What do you mean, sir?”

“What usually happens with devices in your presence?”

Odry’s eyes widened with the terrifying revelation.

“I did it? I killed them all?”

The lights flickered madly.

“Not deliberately. You were not aware of your power,” he said sympathetically.

Odry covered her face and moaned, all the lights went out with an explosion somewhere outside the tent.

“The f*cking generator blew to bits! Winnie, come here! What the f*ck!” Odry heard Mateo curse outside.

“I can help you learn to control your powers. I shall turn the curse into a blessing. Think about it,” Monsieur Bastille spoke in the dark, then he got up, lit a candle on the nearby table with a mere flick of his wrist and left Odry alone.

No! She refused to believe it. Odry wiped off her tears, tied the blanket around herself instead of a skirt, because she was still in her underwear and left the candle-lit tent.

She was standing near a huge circus tent, all dark after the power-cut. Odry looked around, the circus and the carneval amusements usualy came to town once a year, on the first weekend of September, and stayed for a week on the grounds of the city outskirts.

Odry turned her back on the dark silhouette of Cirque du Macabre and marched away without looking back.

“Should I follow her?” Linden asked Monsieur Bastille. Both stood looking at Odry walking away to the glittering lights of the city.

“She’ll be back,” Bastille answered calmly.

It was a long way back to Tiff’s house. A red Saturday dawn greeted Odry as she made her way barefoot through the streets. It took her a couple of hours to get home, but Odry didn’t care - she had a lot on her mind and walking helped to sort things out. Luckily the summer had lingered this year and the weather was pleasantly warm.

When she got back, the entrance door was opened in a narrow gap, but, of course, there was no sign of Tiff’s body on the floor. Loud snoring resounded through the house; Tiff was sleeping on the couch of their living room. Odry blinked, maybe it was a weird dream after all? Maybe she was sleepwalking or something?

She took a shower; the soles of her feet were black as coal after walking through the streets barefoot.

She walked to the kitchen and turned on the coffee machine; the poor device was not at all happy to see Odry, it moaned like a wounded beast. Tiff had duck-taped it, when she noticed Odry’s strange influence on the machines.

The dark trickle of the steaming-hot beverige poured into Odry’s mug, the machine howled with the pain of a tortured cat. Their fridge was almost antique - a relic from the 1970.ties, once bought by Tiff’s Grandpa. The device had seen everything in it’s lenghty life and it was almost indifferent to Odry, except for the rare occassions when it gave out strange sounds in her presence. Odry called it “the singing fridge”. She took out the milk, the fridge greeted her with a song.

By the time Odry’s mug was half-empty, Tiff stumbled her way into the kitchen and threw herself on the chair next to Odry.

“Coffee…” Tiff groaned. She looked terrible - thick layer of black mascara smudged around her eyes, lip gloss smeared over her chin, and her blond extended hair mushed into a stork’s nest.

“Had a good night?” Odry couldn’t help but asking, holding back a smirk.

Tiff regained her posture and gave an ambiguous smile.

“It was to die for!” she pretended to be extremely pleased.

Odry nearly laughed out loud. The bitch  lied. Suddenly Odry wished last night was not a dream, just to shove the truth in Tiff’s face.

“Was the goth guy any good?” Odry pushed her luck.

“Peeping through the key hole, Oddity? Well, I hope you enjoyed the show. Since your love life is… umm… non existent?”

Odry opened her mouth to confront her landlady, but she stopped herself. What could Odry say? The guy was an energetic vampire and you passed out? Then I passed out and he took me to a freak circus?

She held her tongue. It was all too weird even for her.

“I’d better get ready for work,” Odry finished her coffee and went to her room.

“Say hello to your only friends, the dolls I mean!” Tiff yelled after her and added, “maybe you can find a pretty Ken doll to be your boyfriend? Or maybe not, he’ll probably want to date somebody who’s less frigid than you, like a Barbie doll,” Tiff laughed loudly at her own joke.

Odry gritted her teeth, but said nothing. She put on her favorite T-shirt, the grey one with the bleak silvery palm-trees and “Paradise island” on it, pulled on her baggy jeans with multiple pockets; a practical way to carry around all the little brushes and cloths to take care of the dolls. A pair of dirty-once-white sneekers, her Grandma’s old leather purse and Odry left the house with the happy jingle of her keys.

The girl rode her bicycle to work, the day was sunny and warm. Last night indeed appeared fading like a nightmare it probably was. How could she be responsable for her parents’ and her Grandma’s death?! Impossible!

Mrs. Mellow stood by the museum’s entrance, unpacking a box wrapped in thousands of bubble-wrap layers.

“Oh, hi dear!”

“Hello Mrs. Mellow! Is this the new one from France? Can I take a look?”

The old lady smiled nervously. She hesitated to open the box in Odry’s presence.

“You know, this one is worth a fortune! I took a loan to buy it. 18.th century, the finest porcelaine…” Mrs, Mellow took her time to open the box.

“It’s magnificent!” Odry exclaimed looking at the doll in Mrs. Mellow’s hands, “may I?” Odry reached out her hands to hold the piece of art.

“You know I love you, dear, I really do! But not this one, dear! The Barbie section needs a thorough cleaning, the Kens look extremely dusty,”

Disapointed, Odry went upstairs, but she noticed Mrs. Mellow sigh relieved. So, that’s how Mrs. Mellow saw her? A freak? Not her! The old lady was always so kind to Odry.

Tears gathered in Odry’s eyes. Maybe her great boss was not so great.

After all, Odry was the one who arranged the purchase. She convinced the French collector to sell the doll, they had exchanged letters for several months. Physical letters, on real paper!  She waited for this delivery impatiently.

Odry looked at the Ken section. Suddelny three or four dolls flew up and smashed against the wall hard. The light flickered above Odry’s head. Disassembled doll parts scattered across the floor.

“Are you alright, dear? Oh! This will not do! You can’t just take it out on Kens! I should’ve hired that Chinese girl instead of you, when I had the chance,” Mrs. Mellow whimpered, gathering the Kens’ body parts from the floor.

“But she didn’t even speak English!” Odry objected. The Chinese girl was her competitor for the job as Mrs. Mellow’s assistant.

“She wouldn’t have to understand much. Be carefull - that’s all she would have to know. Looks like you don’t even comprehend that much,” Mrs. Mellow whined.

Tears rolled down Odry’s cheeks. The lights in all the museum flickered, dolls fell from the shelves uncontrollably. The old lady ran around like a headless chicken, trying to hold back the tide of falling dolls.

Odry stepped back, she turned around and ran to the door. The 18.th century porcelain miracle stared at her from a glass pedestal. Odry gave the doll a spiteful look. “It’s all your fault!” she thought.

The glass cracked, the next moment the doll exploded from the inside, taking the glass with it. Odry covered her face. The glass shards bruised her hands.

Mrs.Mellow screamed standing on the top of the stairs. Odry was definetly fired, what else could follow such a disaster?! The girl ran out, jumped on her bike and pedaled home.

When she stumbled into the house, Tiff was fresh out of the shower, wrapped in a fluffy white robe. She opened her mouth for yet another insult.

“Don’t!” Odry yelled and ran into her room.  The girl sat down on the foor, grabbed her head trying to regain calm. What just happened?! Why wouldn’t the nightmare end?

She hid in her room all day long, occassionally running to the kitchen to snatch some food. Tiff was out all day, she returned in the afternoon, only to get herself ready for another “hunt”.

“Did you lose your job?” Tiff’s voice caught Odry trying to sneak out to the kitchen to grab something for dinner. Bad timing - Odry had presumed Tiff was already gone. The tall blonde stood on the top of the stairs, she was already in her best “hunting gear”; the black mini-dress with the obnoxious low-cut front showing a ton of cleavage, face full of make-up, the extended hair flowing down perfectly straight. The final touch - the red latex pumps were waiting at the door.

“Does it matter?” Odry didn’t know what else to say.

“No, as long as you pay the rent. But I doubt you’ll find a new job in this town. I mean - look at you. Nobody wants a freak,” there was something so sinister in Tiff’s voice, Odry’s guts burned with anger. Without a warning, the red pumps flew at Tiff like two spears; one of them hit the wall flying just inches past Tiff’s shoulder. It stayed in the wall - the sharp heel was stuck. Tiff shrieked, the other shoe knocked the girl of her feet. Tiff screamed and rolled down the stairs, tumbling in weird, broken angles like a doll. She landed by Odry’s feet and laid lifeless.

“Oh no, no no no….” Odry mumbled. This couldn’t be happening. She didn’t mean it. She didn’t even touch the shoes, so technically she wasn’t to blame. Although deep inside Odry knew she was. Frantically the girl shook Tiff’s purse empty - the smart phone was turned off, Tiff knew she couldn’t use it with Odry around. The girl tried to turn it on. The few seconds it came to life were enough to press the emergency call. Then the phone died. Odry hoped it was enough for the ambulance to detect the address. But what if they think Odry did it on purpose? She kind of did…

No, there was no place for someone like her in a normal society. She was a freak! But where to go? To an asylum? To jail? That was not the solution! There would be people around her in all those places.

A recent memory of a low, idle voice resounded through her head, “I can help you learn to control your powers. I shall turn the curse into a blessing. Think about it,”

Odry didn’t need to think, she needed to get away. She ran out, got on her bike and rode into the night.

Cirque du Macabre (2)