Cirque des Anges
Answers
The scene was much the same as the last time. The same candle was lit with a flame still dancing with the tendrils of breeze that fit through the tent flap, the same orange glow on the walls clashed with the same dark shadows, the same tattoo of rain sounded on the roof, and the same wide eyes of three children stared back at Isabella unblinking. However, hidden in the darkened mass of a cloak the color of charred wood and the mix of shadows darker than any absence of light could ever achieve was a figure unfamiliar to anyone other than those he willingly graced himself upon.
In the awkward moment between Isabella’s outburst and the first word spoken from anyone else, four heads turned in unison to stare open-mouthed at Isabella. Deep crimson eyes on the far left, violet a shade darker and more intense than any other to their right, and a third pair of eyes the color of gold in the sunlight. Heads without bodies they seemed for their torsos and limbs were lost in undertones of grey in black. The only hint there was a person engulfed in the shadows at the back of the tent was the glint of orange fire in the coal black eyes.
“Yes, m’am, can we help you?” a voice issued from the back of the tent, the words dripping with a sweet honey so thick it was almost visible in the warm air. Through the air of phony sweetness a smile could be heard in his vocals as the corners of his lips turned up in a smirk; right on cue, he thought to himself.
Isabella’s knees buckled and all of a sudden the four eyes swam into and out of focus in front of her and the orange and black merged to a blob that smeared over her vision. She struggled to clear her mind and was surprised when the fog cleared and she was standing straight again. The dark purple eyes narrowed to slits as the being who possessed them cursed under her breath at her inept ability to use the gifts bestowed upon her at her creation.
“Now, now, Mercy, that’s no way to treat our guest,” the cool voice reprimanded from the shadows. The shadows shifted as he stepped forward, the black cloak whispering around his feet. Isabella’s gaze traveled from his feet to the top of his top hat which only reached a head above her eye level. His features were the same as the children’s, if not more perfectly aligned and smooth like marble. Whiter than death, especially against the black of the walls, his features shifted and before she could blink he was smiling at her. The small grin seemed genuine enough, almost boyish in its unflawed innocence. Isabella blinked and when her eyes reopened, his hand was extended for her to shake. She glanced at it but otherwise ignored it completely.
“Are you…I figured…I just came to…I should leave…sorry for this…” she mumbled, words falling like stones compared to his floating voice, trailing off into nothing as she spun around to exit the tent. His arm outstretched to catch her around the arm before she had moved an inch towards the opening, glinting like metal as it caught the sudden firelight.
“Don’t leave yet, stay and talk a while. It’s raining and cold out there, nice and warm in here,” his black eyes were somehow less cold and offered some sign of genuine friendliness. She glanced at his cold fingers wrapped around her arm like a band and thought it better to stay and talk than try to free herself from his grasp. She folded her legs underneath her and sat just inches from the candle on the damp earth, letting the bright glow burn dark patches into her grey eyes as they remained stationary on the solitary flame.
“You are curious, I assume…” he said, again from his comfort zone at the back of the tent, farthest from the flame and the light. “…of our nature. We interest you; you think of us constantly,” he continued. In her timorous state, she was unnaturally quiet, unnaturally calm, a calm she had no control over. Someone else was controlling her emotions, a puppeteer of sorts.
“Yes. I would like to know….everything.” she said, but the voice was not hers. The mechanically dull sound that issued past her lips couldn’t possibly be her own words, but the feelings and the will behind them were her own, for even though the puppeteer could move her body, it had no control over her mind, and however scared she was of the answers, she had a million questions. The controlling presence lifted form her body, and though she had the freedom now to move of her own accord, she was hooked to the spot; the man in the shadows seemed to be willing to give her the answers to all the questions she could ask and those that she couldn’t.
“Can I ask….what are you?” she mused aloud, rather to herself than to the man or the children who’s eyes were still focused on her. “…you’re not human…obviously…” she said, her vacant gaze wandering up to meet the figure’s in the back.
A smile broke the smooth contours of his face and his burnt eyes glinted in the candlelight like some supernatural being’s as he parted his icy lips to whisper into the air, “We’re…vampires.”
In the awkward moment between Isabella’s outburst and the first word spoken from anyone else, four heads turned in unison to stare open-mouthed at Isabella. Deep crimson eyes on the far left, violet a shade darker and more intense than any other to their right, and a third pair of eyes the color of gold in the sunlight. Heads without bodies they seemed for their torsos and limbs were lost in undertones of grey in black. The only hint there was a person engulfed in the shadows at the back of the tent was the glint of orange fire in the coal black eyes.
“Yes, m’am, can we help you?” a voice issued from the back of the tent, the words dripping with a sweet honey so thick it was almost visible in the warm air. Through the air of phony sweetness a smile could be heard in his vocals as the corners of his lips turned up in a smirk; right on cue, he thought to himself.
Isabella’s knees buckled and all of a sudden the four eyes swam into and out of focus in front of her and the orange and black merged to a blob that smeared over her vision. She struggled to clear her mind and was surprised when the fog cleared and she was standing straight again. The dark purple eyes narrowed to slits as the being who possessed them cursed under her breath at her inept ability to use the gifts bestowed upon her at her creation.
“Now, now, Mercy, that’s no way to treat our guest,” the cool voice reprimanded from the shadows. The shadows shifted as he stepped forward, the black cloak whispering around his feet. Isabella’s gaze traveled from his feet to the top of his top hat which only reached a head above her eye level. His features were the same as the children’s, if not more perfectly aligned and smooth like marble. Whiter than death, especially against the black of the walls, his features shifted and before she could blink he was smiling at her. The small grin seemed genuine enough, almost boyish in its unflawed innocence. Isabella blinked and when her eyes reopened, his hand was extended for her to shake. She glanced at it but otherwise ignored it completely.
“Are you…I figured…I just came to…I should leave…sorry for this…” she mumbled, words falling like stones compared to his floating voice, trailing off into nothing as she spun around to exit the tent. His arm outstretched to catch her around the arm before she had moved an inch towards the opening, glinting like metal as it caught the sudden firelight.
“Don’t leave yet, stay and talk a while. It’s raining and cold out there, nice and warm in here,” his black eyes were somehow less cold and offered some sign of genuine friendliness. She glanced at his cold fingers wrapped around her arm like a band and thought it better to stay and talk than try to free herself from his grasp. She folded her legs underneath her and sat just inches from the candle on the damp earth, letting the bright glow burn dark patches into her grey eyes as they remained stationary on the solitary flame.
“You are curious, I assume…” he said, again from his comfort zone at the back of the tent, farthest from the flame and the light. “…of our nature. We interest you; you think of us constantly,” he continued. In her timorous state, she was unnaturally quiet, unnaturally calm, a calm she had no control over. Someone else was controlling her emotions, a puppeteer of sorts.
“Yes. I would like to know….everything.” she said, but the voice was not hers. The mechanically dull sound that issued past her lips couldn’t possibly be her own words, but the feelings and the will behind them were her own, for even though the puppeteer could move her body, it had no control over her mind, and however scared she was of the answers, she had a million questions. The controlling presence lifted form her body, and though she had the freedom now to move of her own accord, she was hooked to the spot; the man in the shadows seemed to be willing to give her the answers to all the questions she could ask and those that she couldn’t.
“Can I ask….what are you?” she mused aloud, rather to herself than to the man or the children who’s eyes were still focused on her. “…you’re not human…obviously…” she said, her vacant gaze wandering up to meet the figure’s in the back.
A smile broke the smooth contours of his face and his burnt eyes glinted in the candlelight like some supernatural being’s as he parted his icy lips to whisper into the air, “We’re…vampires.”