Cirque des Anges
Angel, Don't Fall Yet
The sky darkened, if possible, to a black deeper and more empty than one could fathom the outer edges of space being, and the fiery orange blaze brightened in the middle of the tent, almost blinding in it’s brilliance. Among the depths of shadow in the rear of the tent, the hooded figure’s gaze trained on the young girl sitting near the entrance to the tent. His last words hung in the still air, but it didn’t matter that a silence has stolen over the camp because with the blood pounding in the girl’s ears, there was no room for other sound.
As the sharp, numbing pain dulled to a soft throbbing, she looked up and met his cold, black eyes. “All of you?” she asked, her thin voice quivering. She looked across the flame at the three kids, all of whom suddenly appeared exactly like Isabella figured a vampire should. Before their skin was white, now it shone like polished metal, before their eyes were unnerving in their abnormal colors, now they were hypnotic at the very least…and before their sad expressions Isabella had thought to be due to their current conditions, now they had the distant look of a young soul who knew more about the world than was fair. “Even the kids?” she breathed.
“Newly turned, but, yes, they’re vampires, too. “ His voice hadn’t changed, hadn’t wavered a note. She doubted whether he had feelings at all.
“I get it,” she said, though she was lying through her teeth.
“Do you really, get it?” he asked, mimicking her tone which sounded harsh and puny next to his. “There are no questions you have…No longing for further explanation.” She followed his lead, became aware of how he was putting words in her mouth.
“Why?” she questioned, putting more courage into her words than she could muster in her mind. Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, but a shifting of the shadows surrounding the man in the back and her perfect lips met again, silenced. Her stunning golden eyes were suddenly blank, and Mercy’s eyes narrowed in anger, though the man couldn’t have possibly seen. “Why are you telling me? Why should I know? Is this one of those ‘If I told you, I’d have to kill you’ things?” She asked, her voice gaining strength and feeling with every word. By the end, she was actually anxious to have the answers.
“We,” he cleared his throat and his eyes found the back of the three children in front of him, “plan to make you one of us. Isn’t that what you’d like?”
“What about the children? Why weren’t you there Friday night?”
“Business.”
“What about Charlotte’s,” he hissed under his breath at her name, “injuries. They need to be treated.”
“What injuries?” behind Charlotte’s back he beckoned her and she stood without complaint, eyes fixed on something unseen on the tent wall. The holes and rips in her muddied garments revealed nothing but more creamy, white skin. She seemed fine, but Isabella knew her mind was forever changed, not to mention that her body would never change.
“Can they care for themselves?”
“As of right now, they need to remain with the carnival, but they need someone to watch them.”
“What of my family? Will I ever get to see them again Will they know where I’ve gone?”
“Do they know now? Would you care if you never saw them again?” His words broke her heart; she had left them, but she had been intent on returning. It would seem they didn’t care about her, but why would they still be together, if not for her sake?
“I know nothing of your nature,” she started carefully, “I know nothing of…anything.”
“Its now or never, and I must insist on now, since death is the only option should you choose to return to your family.” Isabella shivered in her jacket as an icy finger traced her spine and the tops of her shoulders.
She couldn’t find her voice, so she just barely nodded, teeth clamping down on her bottom lip to keep the tears forming at bay. Between narrowed eyelids, she saw Mercy’s gasp of horror, Criss’s crimson eyes widen in terror, and Charlotte’s blank stare remain unchanged.
“Good choice,” he approved, a laugh intruding upon his voice. “Hold still darling,” he said quietly, and suddenly he was in front of her, one cold hand on her left wrist and the other gripping the back of her neck. Isabella closed her eyes for a bit longer than the standard blink and when she reopened them, the vampire had taken one of his nails and gouged a cut in her left wrist and a similar one in his own.
“Peris!” Mercy’s voice sounded so far away, fading into gray that threatened to creep in and enfold Isabella. Isabella’s gray eyes found the vampire’s face, and saw only the face of a boy her age with eyes darker than coal, before black ensued and the joker exploded behind her closed lids.
Her lips found the blood at his wrist, and his lips locked onto the cut on her own wrist; soon she was falling, falling away from the blackness into an empty world of gray. From behind closed eyes, she saw as her body lay curled up at the base of a gray tree, and felt the first taste of the pain to come.
As the sharp, numbing pain dulled to a soft throbbing, she looked up and met his cold, black eyes. “All of you?” she asked, her thin voice quivering. She looked across the flame at the three kids, all of whom suddenly appeared exactly like Isabella figured a vampire should. Before their skin was white, now it shone like polished metal, before their eyes were unnerving in their abnormal colors, now they were hypnotic at the very least…and before their sad expressions Isabella had thought to be due to their current conditions, now they had the distant look of a young soul who knew more about the world than was fair. “Even the kids?” she breathed.
“Newly turned, but, yes, they’re vampires, too. “ His voice hadn’t changed, hadn’t wavered a note. She doubted whether he had feelings at all.
“I get it,” she said, though she was lying through her teeth.
“Do you really, get it?” he asked, mimicking her tone which sounded harsh and puny next to his. “There are no questions you have…No longing for further explanation.” She followed his lead, became aware of how he was putting words in her mouth.
“Why?” she questioned, putting more courage into her words than she could muster in her mind. Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, but a shifting of the shadows surrounding the man in the back and her perfect lips met again, silenced. Her stunning golden eyes were suddenly blank, and Mercy’s eyes narrowed in anger, though the man couldn’t have possibly seen. “Why are you telling me? Why should I know? Is this one of those ‘If I told you, I’d have to kill you’ things?” She asked, her voice gaining strength and feeling with every word. By the end, she was actually anxious to have the answers.
“We,” he cleared his throat and his eyes found the back of the three children in front of him, “plan to make you one of us. Isn’t that what you’d like?”
“What about the children? Why weren’t you there Friday night?”
“Business.”
“What about Charlotte’s,” he hissed under his breath at her name, “injuries. They need to be treated.”
“What injuries?” behind Charlotte’s back he beckoned her and she stood without complaint, eyes fixed on something unseen on the tent wall. The holes and rips in her muddied garments revealed nothing but more creamy, white skin. She seemed fine, but Isabella knew her mind was forever changed, not to mention that her body would never change.
“Can they care for themselves?”
“As of right now, they need to remain with the carnival, but they need someone to watch them.”
“What of my family? Will I ever get to see them again Will they know where I’ve gone?”
“Do they know now? Would you care if you never saw them again?” His words broke her heart; she had left them, but she had been intent on returning. It would seem they didn’t care about her, but why would they still be together, if not for her sake?
“I know nothing of your nature,” she started carefully, “I know nothing of…anything.”
“Its now or never, and I must insist on now, since death is the only option should you choose to return to your family.” Isabella shivered in her jacket as an icy finger traced her spine and the tops of her shoulders.
She couldn’t find her voice, so she just barely nodded, teeth clamping down on her bottom lip to keep the tears forming at bay. Between narrowed eyelids, she saw Mercy’s gasp of horror, Criss’s crimson eyes widen in terror, and Charlotte’s blank stare remain unchanged.
“Good choice,” he approved, a laugh intruding upon his voice. “Hold still darling,” he said quietly, and suddenly he was in front of her, one cold hand on her left wrist and the other gripping the back of her neck. Isabella closed her eyes for a bit longer than the standard blink and when she reopened them, the vampire had taken one of his nails and gouged a cut in her left wrist and a similar one in his own.
“Peris!” Mercy’s voice sounded so far away, fading into gray that threatened to creep in and enfold Isabella. Isabella’s gray eyes found the vampire’s face, and saw only the face of a boy her age with eyes darker than coal, before black ensued and the joker exploded behind her closed lids.
Her lips found the blood at his wrist, and his lips locked onto the cut on her own wrist; soon she was falling, falling away from the blackness into an empty world of gray. From behind closed eyes, she saw as her body lay curled up at the base of a gray tree, and felt the first taste of the pain to come.