Okay, so because Fanfic is being a total loser and not allowing me to update JLT at the moment, I decided to upload this little beauty I started a year ago and haven't touched since. I don't know if I'll do anything with it…It's just a prologue.
DISCLAIMER: Use some common sense. Of course I don't own Cirque or its characters. That freak-otaku Darren Shan does.
"This is…"
"Yeah. It's called a rave."
I looked over to Larten, a smile dangerously close to quivering on my lips. The open-eyed expression of surprise made a nerve tremble in utter delight, especially considering that he was very rarely ever taken off guard.
Pulling my eyes away from him, I surveyed the room beyond through the door being held open by Alexi. Hard vibrations rattled the walls, the bass so deep that it was as if it were an entity, swallowing up the room. Dark as it was outside, within was devoid of any white light, only the smoldering darkness accompanied by bright neon paint splattered along the high ceiling and walls.
The people too.
It was a horde of dark masses conglomerated throughout the whole warehouse, shaking and moving to the intense music buzzing from the DJ on the far side of the scope. He stood on a raised platform in the sea of aroused dancers, his arms making jerking movements to each scratch and remix of the sound.
Glow stick's of all colors hung from around the dancers necks, were held in their hands and lay on the floor. It was a rainbow of neon, making the entire dance arena look like an alien world of strobe lights and fantastic noise.
"This will be utter hell," Larten sighed, making note of the volume pulsating around the room. Our ears would most probably bleed if we went in there without plugs, considering how heightened our senses were. Thankfully, Alexi had thought ahead and had given us each a pair before we'd gotten here. It's sort of weird that he acknowledges this- what we are. It's surreal how out of place he seems in this world, the world I'm a part of now.
"After you guys," he said with a smirk, his two sources already making their way ahead of us and into the depths of movement.
We both looked at each other, Larten and I, before following in after them and embracing the rave. It was a lot louder inside, but that was expected. Even with the plugs I could hardly think, a deep ache thrumming behind my eyes and in the back of my skull.
"Okay," Alexi yelled over the noise, "We'll split up so we can cover more ground. The faster we find them, the better." He motioned with his hands to either of us. "Mr. Crepsley can go with George, and you can come with me and Klein."
We both nodded, our hearing giving us too much trouble to argue. However, Larten slid next to me and whispered hoarsely into my ear.
"I do not like this."
I looked to him, and then to Alexi.
"I don't either. He's oftly bossy," I joked, but his serious expression made me continue. "It's all right. What he says makes sense, and the faster we get out of here the better."
"This is very suspicious," He continued while Alexi talked to the other two men, briefing them with instructions I couldn't hear. "We should stick together." He paused and winced. "But I would like to leave this place. I will trust your judgment."
"I trust Alexi," I said breathily. "He's been nothing but helpful."
Alexi called for us, and split us up into two groups. Larten strayed a few steps behind the man named George, watching me with steady eyes. I smiled at him reassuringly.
"It'll be fine," I yelled. He didn't nod to show that he'd heard me, but the brief flash in his eyes alerted me that he's understood.
"Come, they're probably somewhere in the crowd hunting," Alexi told me.
"This is a very public place," I started but saw that he couldn't hear me anymore. Instead, I followed him as we pushed through the melded bodies, the thick scent of ecstasy settling on my tongue. The flashing lights blinded me from most of what was around, but concise flashes of moving bodies helped me navigate through the throng of humans.
Alcohol, mainly stronger than just simple beer, and cigarettes , as well as heavy sweat and smoke clogged my sense of smell. The sensory overload was maddening, and almost made me want to puke with unease as we continued to weave our way around. Every touch that brushed along my arms and legs, the crushing bodies that threw themselves into me began to give me a slight case of claustrophobia, but I swallowed down the feeling.
I had to keep my eyes open for any sign of the vampaneze that we were looking for before he caught sight of us.
As Larten Crepsley followed behind his guide, he swept his gaze over the dancing mass. They were in a particularly spacious area, still clogged with bodies but not quite stifling. His sense of alert was on high as he searched for their target, but they'd already been at it for almost twenty minutes without luck.
Just as he was about to look towards the bar, he felt an electric sting that was his reflex to contact. In an easy move, he snatched the hand that had went for his neck and swung it around, bending it behind the persons back and twisting him onto his knees. Growling as the man dropped the syringe, he flipped him onto his back and kicked him in the head. He fell to the floor, conscious, and Larten found his attacker to be none other than his guide, George. The man shook with fear, permeable to Larten even in the warehouse of a thousand scents, and he tried pitifully to crawl backwards while cradling his broken arm.
Larten swept down, the dancing humans paying to mind to what went on, either too high or too drunk with the night. Pinning the mans leg down with his foot, he gripped his throat and snarled menacingly.
"What was in that syringe?"
"I-I don't know," he stuttered in freight. "It was supposed to knock you out."
Applying pressure to the leg beneath him, making the bone crack with a sickening snap, he neared the man and stared him in the eye as he squirmed and yelped.
"What for? Do you work for the vampaneze?"
The man shook uncontrollably, obviously human and most likely a puppet for someone else's scheme.
"N-No."
Crunch.
"N-N-N-"
Crunch.
"All right! Yes I do, yes!"
Larten smirked cynically and loosened his hold.
"What is the purpose of luring us here then?" He demanded quickly.
The man didn't answer, and instead rolled his stare to the side, avoiding his eyes. Larten gripped his neck that beat erratically with an accelerated heartbeat. The man quickly looked back at him before looking away again.
Crunch.
"T-The girl! He wanted to get the girl alone!" He exclaimed, gasping with labored and pained breaths.
"The girl…?" Larten repeated numbly.
"Y-Yeah, the girl that came here with you."
Larten's eyes widened at the information, instantly releasing his hold and stepping away from the man who was already forgotten. He swiftly turned back around, sweeping past the obstacle-like masses. Frantically backtracking, the mission far from his mind, he only thought of one thing as he hunted for his assistant.
I was beginning to wonder whether or not this whole thing was a goose chase. There had been no sight of that damn prick and it seemed like Alexi was just leading us in circles.
"Ouch!" I looked down at my arm, finding a dot of blood on the inside of it. "Wha…?" Wondering what had scratched me, I looked around but only found myself lost in a sea of rubbing and touching bodies.
"Alexi!" I called out, looking ahead only to find myself alone. Looking behind me, I saw that the other was gone as well. Then, things went sort of funny.
The world seemed to tilt on its side, the lights got flashier and the music got louder and less distinct. The bodies I had once stood firm against now pushed me around, and I couldn't seem to get a good breath of air. The beat of the techno music mixed with something like rock deafened me to everything as I was tossed around, my vision blurring along its edges. My stomach clenched and a cold sweat bloomed across my back and forehead.
"What is this?" I wondered as I gripped my head.
Then, a hand gripped my arm, pulling me to the right. I stumbled away, and just as I found myself in a small clearing of people, a sharp and severe pain pounded into my head as something cold and hard collided with my skull. It was like running head-long into a brick wall, except the wall was condensed and was using my head as a baseball.
Maybe it was a bat?
I instantly tumbled to the ground, faintly realizing that the feeling in my fingers was ebbing away and that someone was kicking me. I could feel them, and I could feel the steel embedded in the toes of the boots they wore, but at the same instant there was little retaliating pain that flared up. Numbness like pinpricks danced along my limbs and swelled within my torso, making me feel naked and aloof.
Feet were moving along my vision, the lights dimmed to a thought in the back of my mind and the music sounded as if it were being played beneath an ocean of water. Just how dirty was this floor? There must be so much bacteria crawling around this place, and just think of the mold. People might've vomited right where I lay, or maybe someone urinated where my head was?
How long had I been laying on this nasty floor?
Who was I again?
Where was this place?
Why was I here?
An old record was playing in the background, somewhere deep within the crevices of an old apartment. Almost as if it were underwater, a woman's voice sang in a language of sadness that wavered with static and cracks, from a time before ignorance or death.
She played a harp, and the record player skipped over her when it felt that the silence had heard her haunting tune too much to bear.
It was a place meant for memories and lost time, pocket change and sunken treasure. Broken wind chimes clinked together in an absent wind, fake jewelry and cracked mirrors lined the walkway down the rows of wilting flowers and children's toys. Woven baskets and chipped pottery were thrown into piles, and all that could be seen of a sky was an abyss of darkened space clogged with machinery and spinning gears that hung languidly from their spots…
I wondered how long it might take someone to find this place.
You could leave if you like, it doesn't matter much to me.
What?
Oh.
It was a memory from a long time ago.
No, it wasn't very important.
No, I assure you it was very inconsequential.
But what happened next?
I could tell you, but it would ruin the story.
Would you like to hear it?
If not, then you should bear left at the stolen painting of the faceless woman. Once you do, you can follow the stream of bubble tea back to the hole in the wall where the newspapers are framed. You'll have to get lost from there, because I've never left this place.
But if you should like to stay and listen, then please, take seat.
Yes, actually. This is my story, because after all, it was my memory. I don't know how long ago it was, but I can still remember the very least of it.
What about this place?
How? Oh, I don't know. I just woke up here, but I'm pretty sure I can leave. Yes, I could leave, but then where would I go? Not exactly the brightest thing to do if you have no place to leave to, that's what I suppose I should say. But maybe I was always here and the memory was just a dream.
But now is irrelevant.
The memory started much earlier than that, in a different life among many. I was lost then, very lost, but had I something to lose in the first place? Maybe you'll be able to tell me.
Oh.
Is that your name?
I suppose that's a nice name, if there ever was one. I don't quite know what the difference between a nice and a not-so-nice name is, but I'm sure the one you've got is decent enough.
Mine?
Oh, I guess that's right.
My name is…
My name…
A name is important, is it? I should remember mine?
Well, I was never very important to begin with, so I suppose my name is a very silly thing.
It's not?
A name gives you meaning?
That's stupid.
Are you upset?
No, you aren't?
You can still leave you know.
No?
Fine.
My name is unimportant, and this is my memory.
Or at least, this is a memory.
I don't know if it's mine.
The memory of a replacement.
Which was me.
I think.
I was the replacement for the assistant and the son of Destiny, the git.
So I guess you could call this The Replacements Story, or The Replacements Memoir. Maybe The Tales of a Replacement, or The Recollection of a Vampire's Replacement.
Or simply The Replacement.
Because, really…
That's all I ever was.