MonsterVille
Thirty Four

All Hope abandon, ye who enter here.

Dante’s famous words echoed through River as he descended into a thinly veiled hell. Beauty was an illusion, the monster’s weapon of choice. As far as the eye could see the monsters wore the faces of the beautiful, the seductive, they used appearance to amuse and disarm before they struck. The pretty young woman who fluttered her lashes at River? He remembered her from his first night in town, when he had been running scared at god knows what a.m. and had stumbled into that diner—her eyes had been like molten lilacs, an incandescent entrancing swirl.

She glanced away and River swallowed hard, his heart thundering in his chest. The monsters were just mingling. The same as any human party, they were drinking, boasting, looking for their prospects. The real party hadn’t begun yet. He suspected he would know when it had; blood, screaming, death and carnage.

A dark roil of clouds thundered overhead and a chill of anticipation past over the crowd.

“Hello River.” That husky voice. River closed his eyes as fingers gently fell across his shoulder and guided him around.

“Princess.” He replied quietly. She looked like hell. The bisecting mounds of scar tissue across her exposed body were bad enough, but she was freely bleeding from one side of her throat. A thick trail of blood that pooled along the thin straps of her scanty black dress—it was all straps—and left little to the imagination. Her eyes were sunk back and she was pale as a corpse.

His eyes widened at the sight and he instinctively reached to try and stop the bleeding; Mellie caught him first. Her slight but strong hands gently wrapped around his outreached arm and pulled it back; she pressed along his side, trapping his arm within the confines of her own. Princess smiled faintly.

“Why River, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Mellie purred. There was a predatory note in her tone; a warning.

“Oh um, Mellie—”

“Melanie.” Mellie corrected, “Only my friend’s call me Mellie.”

There was more going on than met the eye but River would be damned if he knew what was happening.

“Melanie,” he amended, “this is Princess, servant to Delphine. And Princess, this is my Master.” He only stumbled over the word ‘master’ for a moment. The way Mellie squeezed his arm reassured him he’d used the right terminology for the occasion, even if she wasn’t all that fond of the word.

“And how are the two of you acquainted?” Mellie inquired.

“Ah, we met at the beach party.” River said sheepishly, subconsciously rubbing his wrist where Delphine’s teeth had grazed his flesh—drawn his blood.

“I see,” Mellie purred, “and where might your Master be, Princess?”

“Here and there,” she replied non-committal, “you know what night walkers are like.”

Mellie moved like an uncoiling serpent, a rush of motion that escaped River. She reached out, her hand clasping Princess’ throat and turning her head. Princess tensed, but didn’t resist, as Mellie exposed that long slim bleeding throat.

“This isn’t a Night Walker’s bite.”

“My Master has many friends.”

Mellie inclined her head, her fingers rested lightly on Princess’ neck. Her lacquered nails tapping against that bloody wound. River had a sudden visceral image of those nails ripping a hole through the nearly exposed artery. He shuddered and wondered where the thought had come from.

By the slight widening of Princess’ eyes, River knew he wasn’t the only one with that mental image. He could have sworn she tilted her head into Mellie’s hand, that there was very nearly a look of peace passing through her eyes. The moment was broken.

Delphine materialized like a heavy mist settling around Princess, she appeared in long flowing silks, her arms draped over her servant’s shoulders. Whatever semblance of humanity usually resided in Mellie vanished, replaced by a steely gaze and hardened expression. Her eyes were still blue, the inner monster nowhere in sight, it was all Mellie.

“Delphine Baudelaire,” Mellie greeted in a semblance of civility.

“Mellie,” Delphine returned expansively. “How lovely to see you again my dear, it’s been far too long.”

“Oh I don’t know, I wouldn’t have minded a few more years. A century perhaps.”

“What a charmer,” Delphine cooed. “I must congratulate you on your fine taste in this young man, and choosing to keep him rather than barter him? A bold move for one such as you.”

“One such as me?” Mellie asked softly.

Delphine waved off the comment, “Oh you know, someone so…human.” She made the word dirty, an insult. “I suppose it’s your own human sentimentality, you should do something about that dear, before it gets you in trouble.”

“I don’t know, I replace humanity to be rather beneficial.”

“Silver linings,” Delphine mocked. “It’s not too late you know, the Harvest has yet to commence. I would be happy to take the boy off your hands, his blood would pair well with a dessert wine.” She ran a long salivating tongue across her full red lips.

If River hadn’t been touching Mellie he wouldn’t have noticed how deathly still she had become.

“You’ve tasted him?”

“Just a sip darling, but if that was an offer I would be happy to indulge.” Delphine was already moving forward, flowing around and towards River, reaching out. She was so consumed with her belief that she was in control, that she was the greater of the two monsters that she never saw it coming. Mellie’s hand flicked out in a flash of inhuman motion—a geyser of blood erupted from Princess, her throat exploded with the force of her thundering heart pumping all that blood. It splashed across the three of them, each of them wearing a look of shock.

Delphine swivelled to catch her falling human, wrapping herself around Princess as she crumpled to the ground. That faint smile still tugged at her lips. Delphine looked devastated.

Princess reached up, her bloody hand leaving streaks down Delphine’s face as the light burnt out of her eyes.

“What have you done?!” Delphine wasn’t quite so jovial anymore. Her voice dropped an octave, it reverberated with her rage. Black veins burst out across her face and the red ring in her iris blazed to life, she snarled, saliva dripping from her needle point teeth.

“I am going to rip you apart.” She screamed as she launched herself forward. Her body exploded in a wave of mist that coalesced inches from Mellie—who stood quite calmly in the face of that rage.

Mellie quirked her head and in another motion too inhuman for River to register she snaked out and caught Delphine by the throat. Mellie’s skin was paling, her eyes beginning to bleed to red.

“You overstepped,” Mellie warned. “You violated my pet, your machinations with the Bacchii almost cost him his life,” she leant in, “all of which was intended to disrespect me. Why? Because you believed you could, you believed that I was too weak to protect what is mine. You were mistaken.”

Mellie shoved Delphine. Sent her sprawling along the ground. A small crowd had parted around the four of them, but for the most part the revelling monsters barely noticed the ‘tiff’ that was taking place.

“Your servant’s life is compensation for your foolishness. Press the issue further and the insult will become less forgivable. Do I make myself clear?”

Delphine hissed, smacked her fists into the ground, and nodded. It was a slow, but clear, sign of acquiescence. She misted into the earth and faded from sight.

Mellie looked the picture of monstrosity in that instant; undeniably in charge. The varying nods of respect and skittish looks from the surrounding creatures confirmed that was what they saw. River on the other hand? With his arm entwined through Mellie’s? He could feel her trembling, the glacial coolness of her skin. She might have put Delphine in her place, but it had cost her.

“Do you think killing the girl was monstrous of me?” Mellie asked quietly, leaning into River. Her eyes cast down on the woman’s body.

He wasn’t sure what he thought, but that tremor in her voice, the way she shook. She obviously thought it was.

“I think,” he hesitated, “I think you did what you had to.” He looked down at the girl’s scarred and broken body, “And I think maybe death was the only release she was ever going to replace.”

One week in that hellish town. River didn’t even recognise himself anymore.

“What now? Do we just leave her there?”

Mellie nodded grimly, “She’s not the first human to drop today, she won’t be the last.” She pointed towards two men moving in their direction. They were small, barely five foot, and wearing the same black and white tux’s the men at the gates had been. It was only as they drew closer that River noticed the little patch on their jackets, a symbol, intersecting sticks? Or maybe a broom and a stick. Some kind of livery?

They didn’t even look at Mellie, blood still dripping from her lacquered nails, as they set to removing the body.

“She’ll become part of the festivities, maybe even presented to Delphine at the feast—to eat or share out as she sees fit.”

“Waste not.” River murmured.

“I told you that all monsters crave human flesh, and we have so little of it in this town, no one could afford to waste it over sentimentality.”

“Because sentimentality is human.” River said. “And anything human is weak.”

“Exactly.” Mellie agreed. Her words, her tone, were cold. But she squeezed his arm comfortingly. “Now we must pay our respects to the Mayor, once we’ve done that we’ll be left to our devices until the Eclipse.”

“At which point?” River prompted.

“We eat.”

They made their way through the crowd, and either the monsters parted out of a healthy sense of respect for what Mellie had just done, or they were aware of their destination and had enough of a healthy fear for the Mayor that they didn’t want to disrupt any respects paid to her.

The last of the crowd parted and Mellie almost ripped River’s arm off. He froze mid step and stumbled as he was yanked forward. Up close he could see the rock throne was weathered—ancient—and the wood inlays were of a wood he didn’t recognise. Each piece carved in exquisite detail, depicting scenes of violence and bloodshed. He also noted the palpable air surrounding the Mayor. Like static electricity, her gaze raised the hair on his arms and made him swallow hard. The intense focus of her gaze pierced through his soul, he was thankful beyond belief when her gaze turned to Mellie.

The Mayor smiled, it was a slight smile, but Mellie relaxed beside him and offered a deep curtsey. River hastily tried to follow suit with a dreadful sweeping bow, he lost his balance and fell to his knees which drew a chortle from the Mayor.

Maybe it was chance, or coincidence, but while she laughed the Mayor’s finger idly drew little circle’s on one of the chains bound to her throne. A chain that ran taut, a chain that looped around the neck of a handsome guy in his early twenties.

Derrick.

River didn’t know if it was excitement or terror thundering through him. Derrick was alive! And besides being half naked he looked good; healthy. His eyes were glazed over, almost vacant.

The Mayor rose from her throne and descended the stone steps, her arms opening expansively to greet Mellie. She embraced her with a kiss to either cheek before she stepped back.

“Melanie,” the Mayor said, a lilt to her voice, “thank you for coming. It warms my heart to see you walking amongst us on this auspicious day.”

Mellie inclined her head, “Thank you for the invitation Madam Mayor.”

“Please, no need for such formality. Call me Elyse.”

Mellie smiled, “Then please, my friends call me Mellie.”

“Mellie.” Elyse said, “You look like you have a question burning on the tip of your tongue, you’ll replace candour is an attribute I admire.”

“Why am I here?” Mellie asked bluntly.

“Why wouldn’t you be here?” Elyse asked. River could have sworn she sounded genuinely puzzled by the question.

“I am not Apex.”

Elyse look surprised, surprise that quickly become mirth as she covered her mouth with one hand and—giggled? For anyone less dignified he would have said she was giggling, but did Mayor’s giggle? Wasn’t there a more pretentious word, like rich men weren’t crazy, they were eccentric. What did dignified people do instead of giggle?

“Oh my darling,” Elyse mused, one hand gently cupping Mellie’s cheek. “You and Analyn need to have a long talk. Suffice it to say, that for tonight you are my guest. And from what I hear you are representing the Berserker’s? Pack Leaders attend my festivities with the same regard as any Apex.”

“But you couldn’t have known that, I didn’t even know that until after we received your letters.”

A wry glint flashed through the Mayor’s eyes, “I couldn’t have?” The mist thickened, the chill-factor dropped another degree and an ominous thunder of storm clouds boomed overhead. “Candour I respect darling, foolishness I do not. You can’t comprehend what I am capable of, so I would advise against making assumptions.”

“My apologies,” Mellie said quickly, “I spoke in haste.”

Elyse waved it off, “It’s forgotten. Now this lovely specimen of yours,” her attention turned back to River and his stomach did flip flops. “Do you bring him as your servant, or as your offering? As I understand it there are several interested parties; an offering might appease some of our more aggrieved brethren.”

Mellie had been cordial. She had shown all due courtesy. Apparently that was over.

“Let them be aggrieved.” Mellie declared, “It is not for me to care for another monster’s appetites or sensibilities, if they want what is mine let them try and take it, they will enjoy the same treatment as the Rats and the Blemmyes.”

A slow clap filled the vacant space, “Khorosho dearie, khorosho.”