What if I miss?
What if my fight mode never kicks in?
I don’t want to die.
Without warning, the sound of a lullaby breaks the silence, one as if from an old-fashioned music box. It starts off gentle, the notes alluring and peaceful before building up and becoming an ear-splitting, high-pitched noise. Everyone around me seems to come to life at the sound. They begin swaying to the noise as if it were classical music and not a cacophony.
I crane my neck around the crowd, trying to get a look at where the music is coming from, but I’m too damn short to see.
I spot the ticket box and decide to head towards it. I can’t stand to listen to the noise any longer, but I also can’t abandonmy life’s mission when I’m this close. I feel in the pit of my stomach that I just have to be brave and trust I can do this. As I look through the pane of glass, I try to hide my shock over the sight of a wooden figure staring straight ahead, frozen in time. I glance around to see if anyone has noticed I’ve broken away from the crowd, but everyone is still staring at the source of the music. I fumble through my bag and grab my ticket, placing it on the metal tray before sliding it through.
I almost scream in surprise when the wooden figure springs to life as if waking up from a deep slumber. It moves in a jarring, eerily robotic manner as it observes the spectators gathered. I take the opportunity to pull out my phone for more pictures. At the sound of the camera, the figure pauses just for a second, then turns its head back towards me. The wood creaks as its glazed eyes meet mine.
It frowns and tips its head down as if I’ve offended it. I frown back. The wooden figure then picks up my ticket without actually looking at it and points toward the entrance to what I can only assume is the ring.
“Thank you,” I mutter, just in case it can hear me.
I shake my head as I walk toward the dark arena. I’ve believed in vampires for most of my life; it looks like it’s time I start believing in magic, too.
The room is dark, almost pitch black. The sweet smell of circus food is replaced by a foul stench. I hold my sleeve up to my nose, wondering if they have performing animals.
I find a front-row seat in the stands and wait as other spectators fill up the seats around me. Nobody is talking, probably too busy wondering what dreams of theirs would be attainable tonight.
A prickling sensation gathers on the back of my neck, like I’m being watched. I look around, but all eyes are focused on the ring. Opening my bag on my lap, I clutch one of the stakes again,keeping it concealed. I search the rest of the crowd as they enter, looking for any sign of an immortal walking amongst them. My knuckles turn white as I squeeze the stake as tightly as I can. Maybe if I kill the vampire quickly, I can make a run for it and be back home in no time.
A single spotlight beams down onto the sand and sawdust-covered floor. My heart begins to pound as the show begins. A light blue satin ribbon drifts down from the ceiling, coming to rest in the center of the spotlight. I stare, transfixed, as the lower half billows as if from a breeze. I crane my neck, searching for the wind machine, but I find nothing except an old fashioned red velvet curtain trimmed with golden thread. Weird. It’s blowing towards us, so there should be something there. All part of the magic of the circus I suppose.
The prickling on the back of my neck increases. I’m definitely being watched.
Then, an extraordinarily beautiful woman emerges from inside the curtain-like ribbon. She wraps her hands and legs around both pieces of satin and begins her aerial dance. The audience holds their collective breath as she contorts her body in a way I never thought humanly possible.
The awful high-pitched noise from earlier slows back to the twinkling lullaby music, then ceases abruptly. Chaos ensues as a bunch of clowns run out onto the stage below the swaying curtain. The aerial artist pretends to be afraid as her silk-slippered feet hit the ground, then she runs to the back of the platform. Some of the clowns ride tiny children’s motorcycles, the deafening revving of the engines cutting through the crowd’s delight.
When I grab my phone out of my bag to take more photos, the screen instantly cracks beneath my fingers as I try to unlock it. I gasp, looking around to see if anyone else had the same thing happen to them, but everyone is watching the stupid clown skit.
Something screams inside of me to run as the prickling sensation becomes painful. I frantically search for an exit sign glowing in the darkness, but I find only an endless sea of enraptured spectators. Just as I’m about to rise from my seat and leave, the music starts up again. My eyes snap back to the ring as a new group of people emerge from the shadows, their faces concealed by black and white face paint. Their bodies move in an unnatural way, seemingly more animal than human. They slink and slide towards the center of the ring in beat with the music, forcing the clowns on the motorcycles to cease their mayhem.
A gentle tug pulls at me from within, tying me to my seat.
Is this part of the magic?
My body seems to hum with electricity. This must be…the vampires.
My breathing shallows and I struggle for air. I look from one painted face to the next, examining the newest performers standing in the ring. When my eyes fall on the tallest man in the center, my heart somersaults like an acrobat. Confusion wars deep inside of me as I fight the urge to rise from my seat and go to him. Some sort of outside force has taken control of my body, the invisible string tying me to my seat now relentlessly pulling me forward.
What is wrong with me?
My throat begins to close as the string yanks me harder towards the stage.
I need to get out of here.
I need air.
I can’t breathe.
But my body won’t follow my mind’s instructions.
Even though it’s hard to see his face beneath the thick paint, the man standing in the center is the definition of perfection. My mouth waters as my gaze roves over the tight black t-shirt,a second skin hinting at abs underneath. His leather jacket fits snugly against his arms. I tilt my head as my eyes narrow, focusing hard to determine just how stacked he is beneath his clothes.
