DISCLAIMER: As usual, standard disclaimers apply for this chapter
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I hope everyone here has had a happy holiday and an equally happy new year's eve. This chapter has been long overdue so let's cut to the chase, shall we?
ACT ONE
Scene Three
Muffled sounds of mechanical devices turning and clicking filled the narrow elevator. The only thing separating Devi and the masked stranger in the very tight space was a flickering light bulb hanging from a thin rusty chain on the ceiling. Devi observed her limited surroundings and determined that the fading chipped beige wallpaper in the elevator was not very interesting to look at. She turned to look at the man standing next to her, clutching his gangly arms tightly around himself.
She saw him look straight ahead at the two-way door. All that they could see was darkness. So many questions ran through her head; who was this man? What could he possibly want with her? Deciding to be brave, Devi broke the silence by clearing her throat. Before she could speak, a small "ping" interrupted her. The elevator stopped.
"We're here," said the man as he opened the door.
"What is this?" asked Devi.
"You'll see."
The man motioned to Devi to step into the tall, cavernous hallway. More flickering and burned out light bulbs were hanging on the ceiling from thin rusty chains. Cracks and bizarre markings of deranged stick figures adorned the stone walls which resembled a deep, sickly green in the dark light.
"Damn, I thought those lights were fixed…" the man mumbled, trailing off.
"We could just use that flashlight over there," said Devi as she picked up a black plastic flashlight in the corner of the room.
"I suppose," sighed the man as the snatched the flashlight out of her hands.
He flicked on the switch on the flashlight and a small beam of light lit the shadowy pathway. Despite this light, the room still attained an air of grimy murkiness.
"Follow me," he said, nodding his head in the direction ahead…
The two reached the end of the hallway to a steep staircase. There still was not much interaction between the two but it was all about to change in a matter of seconds…
"Devi?"
"Y-yes?"
"Can you sing that song for me? Please?" he whispered.
"What?"
"It's just me and you. No one else can hear you. No jackasses can spew rot at you. No one can mock you. Nobody will leer at you like a drooling horny beast. All you have is me to admire the beauty of your voice…sing for me, Devi. None of that Murder of Crows shit. That other song…"
"'Interlude?'"
"Yes, I think that's what it is. Please. Sing…"
As Devi and the masked man walked down the stairs, Devi took a deep breath, ready to give an encore for a captivated fan…
"Time is like a dream
And now for a time, you are mine.
Let's hold fast to the dream
That tastes and sparkles like wine…"
As they descended down the stairs, Devi was joined by the singing voice of a throaty tenor, the man himself…
"Who knows (who knows)
If it's real
Or just something we're both dreaming of
What seems like an interlude now,
Could be the beginning of love…"
The smallest of smiles sneaked its way onto Devi's lips as she looked to find the man looking back at her with a grin. With that, a duet was born.
"What seems like an interlude now,
Could be the beginning of love…"
The two entered another hallway as a thick, cool mist began to sift through the hall. The flowing coat tails of the man's black coat brushed away most of the mist, clearing a path for Devi to follow him. Suddenly, the man stopped at what appeared to be the start of a small wooden dock leading out to a vast lake that stretched well beyond from what the eye could see. Torches were attached to the walls. The reflection of the flames in the water resembled fireflies flittering in a clear night sky. A long, narrow canoe fit for two was roped to the pole of the dock, swaying softly in the lake. A thin steel oar lay by the edge of the dock.
"A lake? There's a lake down here?" asked Devi.
"Yeah, why not?" shrugged the man as he led Devi to the canoe. He did his best to steady the canoe in order to make sure Devi wouldn't fall into the lake. Once she got in, he grabbed the oar and stood at the back of the boat and began to paddle.
"Now where were we?" he asked.
"Yes, I remember now…"
Devi initiated the starting point of the duet.
"What seems like an interlude now,
Could be the beginning of love…"
"Ah, yes," the man grinned, joining Devi in the spontaneous union of two voices singing together.
"Loving you is a world that's strange
So much more than my heart could hold.
Loving you makes the whole world change
Loving you, I could not grow old.
No, nobody knows
When love will end
So 'til then, sweet friend…
Time is like a dream
And now for a time you are mine.
Let's hold fast to the dream
That tastes and sparkles like wine.
Who knows (who knows)
If it's real
Or just something we're both dreaming of…"
The mist began to fade, the flames became brighter and a dominant, black barred gate became clear in the distance. The gate began to open…
"What seems like an interlude now
Could be the beginning of love.
What seems like an interlude now
Could be the beginning of love.
What seems like an interlude now
Could be the beginning of love…"
Once Devi and the man rowed past the gate, he stopped rowing and let the canoe float on its own in the lake. They stopped at a stone post with the head of that same deranged stick figure in the hallway they entered previously. As the man put the rope attached to the boat onto the post, Devi quickly scanned her unfamiliar surroundings. Old paintings, perhaps even more surreal and demented than her own creations, barely hung onto the rusty nails and hooks hammered into the walls. Stuffing and metal screws were squeezing out of the old brown couch but one thing that caught her eye was a desk with stacks of paper, Indian ink and a lantern. She also noticed a wooden dresser with a mirror tucked behind cream, red speckled velvet drapes. On top of the dresser were two styrofoam sculptures resembling doughboys painted with great attention to detail.
"Devi…"
She snapped back into the present and noticed the man standing at the top of the small stone staircase behind the pole with his arms crossed.
"Oh…" she uttered as she got out of the raft and walked up the stairs joining the man. He took off his coat to reveal his black and white striped sleeved shirt with two long coat-like tails trailing from the back of his shirt and stopping just behind mid-calves. While he hung up the jacket onto a dusty gold coat rack, Devi saw what appeared to be a symbol on his back. A large black "Z" partnered with a question mark.
Z? What the hell?
"I must say that your voice is even more stunning in person, especially when these walls are clouding everything. Once again, bravo, Devi…" said the man as he handed Devi a deep red rose.
"Well, why thank you…um…" stuttered Devi.
"My name is Johnny but you may call me Nny."
"Nny, huh? That's pretty clever actually."
"Simplicity is often most effective, unlike that vile bitch…Anne Gwish, something or other. Fuck, I would rather drive sharp pencils into my ears than listen to her wailing."
"God, I know," Devi laughed. "And then she goes on to smoke like a chimney in order to 'preserve her voice?' What the hell? It makes no sense and don't get me started on Dillon…"
"Dillon, yes, that complete and utter asshole," said Johnny, rubbing his bony gloved hands. "You're not the only person that he has spat at and stomped all over. He berates everyone and anyone that doesn't fit his so-considered little 'goth world.' Fuck, I don't think he even knows how to properly hold a guitar. That wasn't the only reason why he was kicked out of Clod of Xylophone, though. He did a whole lot of other shit that pissed off the rest of the band…"
"You know, that doesn't surprise me, Nny," said Devi. She stopped to breathe in the sweet scent of the rose. "This is lovely. I've never had anyone give me a rose. Most of the time I end up getting those cheap plastic roses you find in the dollar store…or if I'm lucky, a withering dead rose."
"Wh-why…um, thanks," Johnny blushed. "I actually searched for the best roses I could find earlier tonight but then there was this incredibly annoying flower vendor who thought that I looked…" He began to shudder, his eyebrows furrowing in fury. "…wacky."
"That's dumb."
"I know but I let him know who was the, ahem, 'wacky' one…" he let out a deep chuckle from the pit of his concave stomach. "Oh, you should have seen the look on his face when I…I…" Johnny exploded into a fit of cackling.
Devi chuckled softly, twirling her finger around the rose petals and staring down at the ground. Her attention turned to a painting of a bloodshot eyeball with screaming pupils and hooks plunging into the cornea.
"Say, I really like this painting. The colors really stand out and I can definitely feel that eyeball's pain," said Devi, pointing at the painting.
"I painted that thing years ago. I've been on a bit of a break from painting such things. I've been mainly doing comics for the last while for my own such amusement: Happy Noodle Boy. If you've been observant, you should have seen him all over the place."
Devi looked at the stone pole. It finally came to her.
"Oh! That must be him, isn't it?" said Devi, sounding as if she had discovered the cure for cancer.
"Well aren't you the bright one," said Johnny. "There's another thing. I'm sure you were part of the reason I decided to try painting again."
"Really?"
"Yeah, um, I can show it to you, if you like…y-you don't have to if you don't want to."
"Oh, Nny. I like all the paintings I've seen so far so I'm sure this one is just as good," said Devi with a reassuring smile.
"Okay. Come with me…"
Devi followed Johnny to a spot with a large wooden crate of nails sitting across from an easel. A white canvas decorated with deep red swirls and spirals that formed small music notes and an intricate yet familiar shape.
"As you can tell, I'm not quite finished yet. There's a few more things that I need to really give this piece the beauty it deserves," said Johnny.
Devi looked closer at the painting. From what she could make out, the shape looked more familiar to her. Is that…two D's? Intertwining? she thought as she also recognized a strong metallic scent. She looked down beside the easel and saw a bucket filled with a deep red liquid she assumed was paint. No, it can't be paint. I've been painting for years now and never has any paint smelled like that…
She looked down at the bucket and noticed a small round bump. Scanning closely, she noticed there was a little bit of brown, white and black in the bump…staring back at her. A sight all too familiar. Holy shit!
Devi gasped stepped back from Johnny's piece feeling all too light headed. She collapsed to the ground with a thud. Johnny looked down to see an unconscious Devi lying at his feet. Confusion and panic rose in his mind. His shoulders quickly tensed up. He stepped backward, letting Devi's body slide gently off his boots. His head jerked back and forth to Devi…and the fountain containing a knife beneath the water. Johnny shook his head and kneeled down to Devi. His hands began to shake as he nervously crept his left hand beneath her neck, letting the weight of her head rest against his hand. He took a deep breath. His shoulders dropped. The tension was melting.
He scooped his right arm beneath her legs and lifted her into his arms. Despite his emaciated build, Johnny somehow managed to develop a surprising amount of strength over the previous years of doing away with the defects and assholes of the world. His arms shook.
No, you've done this before. You've carried passed out and bloodied bodies before…but will she be one of them? Sweat was pouring down his temples, beneath the white mask.
With Devi in his arms, Johnny staggered his way to a separate area greeted by torn black lace curtains. A lantern hung from the ceiling, high above a dusty, canopied bed. Johnny cautiously placed Devi onto the bed and wrapped the turquoise silk sheets around her body. He also placed the softest pillow he could find under her head. Johnny turned to leave the space but stopped to look back at Devi, calm and serene on a turquoise cocoon. He shut the curtains in the space, letting Devi sleep in peace…for now.
High above the underground lair and into the buzzing, busy night club, the rest of A Murder of Crows were lounging around backstage in the green room, which in reality was painted a mustard yellow. Edgar was fiddling with the cross pendant hidden in his pants pocket while Jimmy and Dillon were sharing their third bottle of vodka. As Jimmy swayed tipsily, Dillon lay on Tess' lap as she was holding his woozy body up.
"Man, if I ever met the Phantom Maniac, I swear, I'd give him a big ass hug, tell him he should run for president and then we'll all live in a city of gold and unicorns and dragons riding shopping carts and eating sno-cones…" Jimmy trailed off before taking another swig of vodka.
"God, you still believe in that stupid Phantom Maniac shit?" Dillon wailed. "I tell you, he doesn't fucking exist! If he did exist, he would have better things to do than haunt some stupid nightclub."
"But how do you explain that light falling, dude-man?"
Meanwhile, Todd, with Shmee in tow, was wandering backstage but stopped at the green room door once he had heard Dillon. He stood behind the door left ajar and proceeded to listen to the rest of the discussion.
"It was just a god damn coincidence. Like I said, if he really did exist, he would probably be some skinny ass loser going around trying to pretend to be something he's not. He'd probably buy all of his Nine Inch Heels shirts at the mall and claim he's their biggest fan when he's only ever heard one song. He would be some zit faced fag with braces getting the shit beaten out of him each day…"
"You know he'll be listening to him, don't you?"
"Shmee, it's loud here. How can he hear what he's saying?" whispered Todd to his teddy bear.
"He will kill him and you know it. Don't deny it," said Shmee, echoing in Todd's head.
"You're silly, Shmee. He's way down in the ground."
"He can hear everything. Warn him. Save his life. Don't become a crazed killer for the rest of you life like HIM."
Todd's hands began to shake. His heart was beating rapidly. The door was open. He could easily run in and tell Dillon to be quiet. It was his chance. Todd reached for the door knob, opened the door and stood in the door way between the green room and the hall backstage. The rest of the band stared at Todd, shaking and clutching onto Shmee.
"What the hell do you want, kid?!" barked Dillon.
"…squee."
