The Nightmare Game (62 page)

“Help me,” said the mouth.

“Well, you could at least thank me for getting you
more air,” Geoffrey told her, sounding wounded.

“Help me,” she said again.

“You know,” he said to me, “If she’s got more than
two eyes, I’ll bet you anything that she’s got more than one mouth around here
somewhere. You wanna see?”

He began to unwrap the strips of cloth that
covered her lower torso.

“Stop it, Geoffrey,” I snapped. I’d had more than
enough of his disrespect for his fallen comrades. “Leave her alone.”

“But,” he said, surprised at my reaction. “Don’t
you want to see what’s down there?”

“I’d rather not see one more thing that Arrosha
did to any of them. This is gruesome. This whole damn thing is gruesome.”

“You wanna see what’s really gruesome?”

“What?”

“Them,” he said, pointing behind me to the
entrance.

When I turned to see what he was talking about, I
saw the creatures that had attacked me entering the tent in their rambling,
mindless manner.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” I yelled.

“Wrong lady. You’ve to get out of here. I’ve just
got to get out of their way. Arrosha won’t let them lay a hand on me”

“Which way is out?” I was too panicked take his
baiting and I knew Arrosha well enough now to know that there would be only one
way out.

Pulling aside a curtain at the end of the
side-show tent, past the “exhibit” that housed Illea, he pointed with his cane.

“I’d figure this would be about it,” he said.
“Good luck, toots. You’ll sure need it.”

With no direction in which to go but one and with
the ghoulish creatures at my heels, I ran toward the curtains that Geoffrey
held aside. It was dark in that room, but soon became illuminated enough for me
to realize I was in a hall of fun-house mirrors. I became completely
disoriented, running in the distortion of mirrors reflected upon mirrors. At
first I saw only myself, fat and pushed in alternating with thin and pulled
out, but as I continued to run, images of the ghouls dominated the mirrors
instead. Running as fast as I could, I had no idea of knowing what was real and
what was reflected image and my disorientation increased. The monsters seemed
to be coming at me from all directions at once. I bumped into mirror after
mirror in my confusion, thinking each time that I’d wound up in the arms of one
of Rochere’s vile creations, only to see its image “bounce” as the mirror was
shaken.

I ran in this manner until I was at the point of
screaming. It was only then that the creatures began to vanish from the mirrors
and Rochere, or rather Arrosha, appeared, laughing at me. Laughing or not, I
followed her image until I reached yet another curtain, which I opened and,
going through it, suddenly found myself outside the tent, high upon a strip of
land bridge. When I looked behind me, there was another mountain. The carnival
was gone.

As I stood upon the land bridge, the world was
quiet. The only sounds to be heard were the lonesome whistling of the wind and
my own breathing. With a light breeze, the air was cool and pleasant, a welcome
change from the stifling heat and humidity of the world of the carnival.

At the other end of the natural bridge stood a
tower, the only man-made object in sight. Long and thin, the tower seemed
almost too thin to support the rather squat and flat structure that sat atop it
like a pancake. As I walked closer to it, I saw this structure was comprised of
pillars and a roof but no walls; it reminded me somewhat of a metallic gazebo.

Before I could take further stock of my
surroundings, I suddenly experienced another “jump”, one which set me inside
the structure. From the inside, this tower room was open, airy and
overwhelmingly large, much larger than it appeared from the outside, for I
could now appreciate the great height to which its ceiling rose.

 Bathed in the light of a blazing red sunset which
poured in from a cloudless sky, the empty room also seemed surprisingly warm.
It was made up entirely of a bronze-like metal, the floor and ceiling so highly
polished that they’d become the room’s prismatic, bronze-tinged reflectors.

The round floor and ceiling seemed roughly equal
in diameter. The columns encircling the room were not straight, but instead
curved outward from floor to almost mid-height, at which point they turned to
curve inward again into the ceiling, giving the room a more organic feeling
than it otherwise would have had. Every fifth column bore a bronze statue of a
semi-nude woman growing out of it, sculptures done in the same style as my
necklace amulet, Arrosha’s crystal sculpture and the satyrs at the mansion. The
sculpted women leaned out at an angle, as if they might escape from their columns,
yet were anchored by butterfly-like wings. From the large ornate pitchers the
statues held, they continually poured what appeared to be an iridescent light
bronze liquid into a small pool beneath them, pools that never got emptier or
fuller.

Walking nearer to the edge of the room, I very
cautiously peeked downward. What appeared at first to be a cloudless day proved
to be an illusion, for I saw now that this room was actually above the clouds,
leaving me to wonder why the atmosphere was not thinner this high up. Not one
for heights, I became woozy and stepped back.

No sooner, though, had I retreated, than the sky
began to darken until it was as black as night. The liquid that the sculpted
women poured from their sculpted pitchers grew luminous and began to shimmer
and glow, casting the entire room in a soft, warm light that was reflected by
both the highly polished bronze floor and ceiling.

As the dark sky now began to reflect the light of
the room, I realized that the sky itself had not gotten dark, but rather that
which I’d perceived as open space was actually a clear barrier, now darkening
or solidifying to black. Putting one hand on a column for balance, I leaned out
very cautiously once again until I touched the barrier. It was solid.

A circular spot of light suddenly appeared,
bringing my attention back to the center of the empty room. This spotlight
gained in intensity and grew upward, incrementally, organically, as if it were
an incandescent plant made of light, its iridescent colors shimmering as if it
were alive. It began to breathe and soon a the sound of a heartbeat was added
to the breathing. The living light of many colors grew to a height of perhaps
nine feet and then began to solidify, turning into what appeared to be a large,
closed exotic flower bud of multi-colored, multi-faceted crystal. I viewed it
from my distance, not daring to venture closer, as I now knew that nothing good
could come from this world. Even so, it was still the most beautiful object I
had ever seen in my life. When it had finished solidifying, its petals began to
open, revealing an amorphous female form comprised of light, hovering in
mid-air over what came to be a round platform that arose from the floor out of
seemingly nowhere. Gradually, the form began to solidify, revealing an
exquisite black haired woman with white, translucent skin. She floated down
slowly until she was standing upon the raised platform, clad in a majestic
finery. Its details coming into focus, an extremely beautiful yet powerfully
shrewd face revealed itself to me, its piercing eyes boring into through me.
Before me, glaring at me in all her glory, stood a most regal Arrosha.

The light continued to surrounded Arrosha, as if
to display her as she stood in her queenly regalia upon the platform. The now
opened petals of the crystal flower dissolved without a trace as the entire
platform glided toward me without effort or resistance, stopping about fifteen
feet away. I assumed that the necklace I wore would allow her no nearer.
Arrosha looked down upon me with a cold, hard look of complete contempt upon
her face as the platform hovered in one spot for a few moments. Slowly,
noiselessly, the platform grew smaller as it descended, bringing the figure it
bore to ground level before disappearing altogether, as if it had never existed
at all. Arrosha continued to stare at me for a long time, assessing me, judging
me, her eyes finally coming to rest upon my neck.

“That necklace is mine” she said bluntly in a
voice that was richer and throatier than I’d been expecting. Apparently the
little old lady voice of her Rochere persona had been just another part of her
act.

“It’s not yours.” I told her, sounding much braver
than I felt inside. “It belongs to someone else. It was given to me.”

“It belongs to someone else? Do you mean Edmond?”

“Yes,” I said. Her mood changed from arrogance to
rage in the flash of an eye.

“You think it belongs to Edmond?” her voice boomed
so loudly in her fury that I felt the floor shake. “How dare you? How dare you
speak of things about which you know nothing, you puny, insignificant little
insect! And if you weren’t wearing my necklace, that’s exactly into what I
would turn you this very instant!”

I was terrified. I knew she could and would do it
were I vulnerable to her machinations. The longer this game continued, the more
I understood the full importance of the many warnings not to take off this
necklace.

“Belongs to Edmond,” she mocked me, contempt now
mingled with her rage. “Edmond is a thief! It was never Edmond’s to give you.
He’s nothing but a nasty, filthy, rotten little thief! That necklace is a
product of the technology of my people and therefore it belongs to me. He stole
that necklace from me and I want it back! Take it off! Now!” she commanded.

“If it’s really yours, why can’t you just come
over here and get it yourself?” The words squeaked quietly and mousily from my
dry throat. Unfortunately, my voice had lost its power, making me now sound as
brave as I felt. Words that were defiant in my mind evaporated into a frightened,
broken whisper when exposed to the air.

I noticed that while she had been circling around
me like a big, caged cat, her circle had not shrunk. She wasn’t coming any
closer. It was true, then. The necklace amulet did repel her.

“But you can’t do that, can you?” I said, pointing
out the obvious.

“You stupid, trifling woman.” Her voice lost its
fury and became dangerously low, making her even more menacing. “You really
don’t know who you’re dealing with, do you?”

“Not really, no.” I admitted, trying to keep the
trembling in my voice to a minimum. “But I do know that if I were to take this
necklace off now that you would kill me or worse. I saw what you did to the
others.” I braced myself for another outburst, but it did not come.

Instead, her mood softened and she smiled the most
wicked smile that I had ever seen. She seemed to be relishing her memories of
the atrocities which she’d inflicted upon her loyal followers. “Oh, yes,” she
said with an oily slyness to her voice that had an almost sexual undertone.
“That. Quite interesting, weren’t they, my creations.”

“Abominations, you mean,” I found the nerve to
say.

“Oh, my,” she replied, sounding slighted. “So you
didn’t like my work. Well, aren’t you just the little critic. Feel free to
criticize me any time that you have my powers. Oh wait, let’s see now. That’s
not possible because you will never have my powers!”

“Even if I could have your powers I would never do
to any living creature what you did to those poor people. You’re evil.”

I wished my voice could have conveyed more force.
I was proud of my words, but they came out sounding too meek and timid. Even
so, I braced myself for yet another outburst of rage from her. Again, it did
not come.

“Evil?” she said, almost analytically. “You think
I’m evil?”

Was this the calm before the storm?

“Yes.” I said, my eyes lowered, not daring to look
at her lest it set her off again.

Unexpectedly, she began to laugh. It was a cold,
hard, joyless laugh, but still it was not the reaction I was expecting.

“So you think I’m evil,” she repeated.

I said nothing. I just stood still, scared out of
my wits.

“Evil, you little wimp, does not apply to me.
Good, evil, these are just terms that mortals use. What are they, after all,
but selfish terms? Ultimately, good is merely only that which benefits you,
evil is only that which harms you. Now, what is that saying from your culture
that I like so much? Ah, yes, ‘one man’s meat is another man’s poison’.
Interesting, isn’t it? Your own species feeds upon itself regularly, doesn’t
it? So often what benefits one group requires it to feed off of another group.
What destroys one sector makes the second sector wealthy. So what becomes good
to faction A is evil to faction B. It’s all relative, Ashley. Good and evil.
Where does one end and the other begin?”

“No one benefits from you,” I said, finding my
voice. “There is nothing in you but destruction.”

 “But I benefit and that’s all that matters. And I
am more than destruction, Ashley. I am the Goddess of All Creation!”

“You’re lying.”

“You know nothing. My good is the only good that
is important. You’re all so sad, so concerned about your, as imagine, immortal
souls. There is no such thing. Your soul does not exist, you have only life
force. When you die, it leaves you. And whither it goes, you know not. You
comfort yourselves in your powerlessness because you’re all afraid to die. You
make up little bedtime stories of a beautiful, perfect afterlife, where you fly
about the clouds with newly sprouted wings, playing harps and singing all day.”
Her hard laugh was now mocking. “You wish! Once your life force leaves you,
you’re lucky if it winds up powering a light bulb! Its energy is squandered in
some trivial use.” Her circling around me stopped and she began to pace before
me back and forth. “What a waste! Those I feed off are actually lucky that I
find their life forces so very tasty. At least then it has some purpose. And
that purpose is to nourish me!”

She looked at me now with eyes that betrayed a
violent hunger. She didn’t just want to kill me, she wanted to feed off me. My
self-preservation had been telling me to be as neutral as possible, but now I
could not hide my shock. Again, I was grateful to be wearing the necklace.

“You – you’re a succubus!” The words came tumbling
out of my mouth without my permission. I couldn’t help myself.

“A succubus! How dare you call me that! How dare
you insult me so! I am a Goddess! I am the Goddess, the creatrix of all! I give
all, therefore I can take all!” She lunged at me but was stopped cold. The
invisible protection of the necklace would let her come no closer. Realizing
she could not get to me, that she would not be allowed to do to me that which
she so badly desired, she calmed down quickly. She eyed me intently with wicked
mischief.

“I created you. I created your life force. Yours
and everyone else’s. It was exhausting work, by the way, so you will excuse me
when I want a little of it back. And yes, I know what you’d like to know.
Everyone does. What does it taste like? It is, my dear, extremely tasty.”

“That’s not what I was thinking. I didn’t want to
know.”

“But of course not, dear. You didn’t need to ask.
You know already what it tastes like, that it’s the most wonderful thing that
you’ve ever consumed. At least, that’s what you thought at the time. Everyone
does.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, puzzled.

“The essence.”

“What about the essence?”

“It was wonderful, wasn’t it? So exhilarating, so
liberating, so intoxicating. It took you into new dimensions, new heights. It
always does. But Geoffrey was right, that was a particularly good batch, if I
must say so myself. I was particularly proud of it. A Hindu yogi and a Nobel
laureate went into that particular mix. And the rest of them weren’t too shabby
either, lots of artists and musicians and scientists. Ben really enjoyed them
at the party we gave just before you arrived at the mansion. I’m so glad he got
to enjoy them again a second time. You see, in partaking of the lovely,
delectable dish of essence, you weren’t eating, my dear, you were feeding!”

“No!” I screamed at her. The implications were too
horrendous to consider.

“That’s right, dear. The essence is made of the
life force of many different people. The more, the merrier. Nobody really
expects to find any of the missing, either, because this is such a dangerous
world in which to live, don’t you agree? Just look at the news, there are so
many natural disasters. Thousands of people go missing every year from
earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, as well as the random violence that runs
rampant these days.”

“Are you responsible for those things?”

“No, dear, I simply take full advantage of them.
They’re such a wonderful excuse for my soirees, don’t you think? I harvest the
more interesting of those most likely to die, bring them to my nice, secluded
little island, wipe their memories, and leave them there until I need them. One
more memory wipe before the party and as far as they’re concerned, life’s gone
on as usual and they’ve just been invited to a fabulous soiree. I always dine
my guests well before they become dinner. At least I give them one last bash
before they die, which is more than they would have had otherwise. So you see,
my dear, I’m not as horrible as you imagine.