XXXIX
"…but I'm not going to play anything on that stupid screen, HELL NO! Fuck that shitty screen, you suck stupid screen." Casta glares sourly at the stupid screen, pointing at it disdainfully.
"I think somebody's got really into character tonight," Rochelle can't help to gloss. "Can't say she's not a dedicated actress."
"You guys deserve better than pixels. Tonight you're getting a full-fledge immersive experience into the movie brought to you by your magic server!"
"Well, isn't she the most fascinating person we've ever met in our unlives?" Draculaura asks, looking at Cleo, getting a peeved look from her. Remember how she once pointed that Cleo is yet to be the most fascinating person they've ever met? She does.
"So are you ready, guys?!" she asks, the crowd answers loudly. "I can't hear you! Are you ready!? Are you ready for a good time?! Are you ready for the nightlife?!" This time the answer is even louder, much to her pleasing.
A Cheshire smile curls in her lips. She snaps her fingers once. Instantly, waves of mana unfold around her, perhaps due to the spell having already been set up beforehand or perhaps due to a huge amount of practice, fair to say it could be both, then shining purple magic circles suddenly appear in the air around her, multiplying all around the ballroom whilst emanating a faintly glowing purple mist that grows thicker into fog. Then everything changes.
At first it feels all like a dream, as the luminous ballroom fades to black into the fog and their surroundings become a dark and desolated city, or rather a war zone guessing by the way the buildings have been torn asunder, fire illuminated the streets with its orange glow as the moon above fails to do so by the thick clouds that cover it. In simple words it all looks like —
"Chicago! We've gotta be in Chicago, no other city in the U.S. is this shitty, " Devon remarks.
I was going with post-apocalyptic, but that also works.
On one side of the street they see a hunky and scaly red behemoth growling and snarling at them, then getting assaulted by what can only be described as a knight in an armor of high tech ammunition… the ballroom has literally become a movie scene.
Funny thing, when puling out his flask Clawdeen looks at it and before she can even say anything he would say "Did you honestly believe I was going to make it through that concert soberly? Deary, you know me better than that." To which she lets out a sigh, feeling something quite close to disappointment.
Then he suddenly stops at a turn away from the ballroom.
"What's the matter?"
"I… something… something's wrong, I can feel it… like something's about to happen, but I don't know what," says with genuine alert in his voice as an strange uneasiness takes over him. Sensing all over his skin, a shift the air — in the power the ley lines on the school ground give off, most students wouldn't notice this, but he does as would anyone who tampers with magic the way he does. Ever since he first set foot in the school, he's sensed the air humming with an unusual power all around them, that's always been the cause of their weather or so he believes — and now this energies are behaving oddly, increasing so suddenly his whole body jolts as though it has been whipped with a live wire. The pain of this shock lasts only a second, but he can still feel the spiking magic all around.
Even though she can't feel the change he feels, she can still feel him, she feels him getting on an edge, the uneasiness that has suddenly sat upon him being far from his usual anxiety, the tension of his muscles speaks to her with a message, he is readying himself for something that carries true danger. With this school being Monster High, that could be just about anything, just when she thought this night could end smoothly.
"Should I — just let me know right now, do I have to use this?" Clawdeen says, half jokingly perhaps hoping to lighten his mood, holding her sword's handle.
He glares at her from the corner of his eyes, not bothering to reply.
"Need I be worried?"
"Maybe I'm just letting my paranoia take over, but then again only paranoids survive."
"Ah… am I interrupting something… again?" Frankie asks showing up behind them, no eyeliner, and good thing she's using her black and gold eye which doesn't give away the fact that she's been crying, only one bloodshot eye {the blue one) which can be by anything, not like they noticed though.
"Keith's spider-sense is tingling," Clawdeen points at him with her thumb.
"Why?"
"I feel someone might have done something quite — remarkably stupid with magic… and I don't often say this but I actually hope to be wrong," states direly with no emotions in his voice.
Pushing the doors open they're shocked to see there is not a party but instead a city in chaos with heroes and villains from any and all movies they have and haven't seen beating the crap out of each other, inside a large swirling sphere of sheer magical energy the size of almost the entire room. A sinister and ominous snow globe with ashes raining inside.
"Did we cross to the right instead of the left?" He asks, getting a peeved look from the ghouls.
Now he's joking.
Compelled by her innate curiosity, Frankie takes a step inside the city beyond the doors, or so she tries, only to be pushed back as though by a giant invisible hand… holding a huge cattle rod — large violet sparks fly off the air the moment she makes contact with the large violet sphere.
"That hurts…"
"I was going to warn you not do that. Thought it may happen," says he.
"Then why didn't you?"
"I wanted to see if you could actually walk through. To be honest I didn't think you'd get electrocuted." Keith explains carefully touching the globe of mystical power in front of them, with only multicolored tendrils of energy dancing around his fingers, which are bent in a strange fashion, black rings spread across its surface like ripples in a pond.
With a nod he tells them to leave to the hall, closing the doors.
"Okay, time to use your genius, what the hell happened here?" Clawdeen demands an explanation, hoping all the boasting about his brains isn't for naught.
"That we missed the concert and the clip," he begins with the obvious. "Other than that I have no idea."
"Then guess! Whatever your guess is, am sure it will be right," Clawdeen snaps.
"Okay, if I had to guess… based on what we're seeing — or not seeing here, the date, and location… I think Casta screwed up big time."
Clawdeen and Frankie grimace in confusion, then the former sighs with exasperation before asking "Care to elaborate, please?"
Scratching his chin as he thinks, a gesture as cartoonesque as only he can make it look, he begins, "Well, we know that Casta has a penchant for giving it all in her shows, I'm thinking maybe she thought it wise to use her magic to create an Illusory Bubble. A field within the ballroom where she can be master of their reality by controlling their whole perception to make them feel like they're really into the movie, which is in itself a good idea — beats the hell out of 3-D and 4-D, but granted that her talent to control her magic is proportionally inverse to her artistic talents… and the intensities of the ley lines around here and how frail the fabric of reality is tonight (all of them factors that ought to be weighed in when using any form of spellcraft), the spell most likely overloaded becoming instead a Reality Bubble of which she evidently has no control whatsoever, where everything is just like the movie — and I really hope everyone in a costume became the character which they're dressed. That would explain why this is crossover-land now, as I said she screwed up. But I'm just speed balling here, this school being Monster High means every crazy thing can happen most suddenly your guess is just as good as mine," he reasons with such casualness it overlaps with indifference, with the girls staring at him in shock. "Honestly I thought it would be something worse, I was already getting worried for my safety — and your, naturally."
A look of horror cementing on their pretty faces.
"How could it have been any worse?"
He mulls for a few seconds then says "She could have summoned a man who was so, so ugly… that everybody died."
"I'm not sure I'm doing it right." Fran says.
"Don't worry, that only means it will be easier for me to win," says he tapping her fingers.
"Are you two kidding me right now?! We gotta get some help! We can't just sit here doing nothing," Clawdeen pleads with urgency at Keith who does nothing but to sit on the floor playing Chinese sticks with Frankie as he waits for the spell to wither away as he explained.
"Like who? Every responsible adult in the school is inside that bubble. Not like there is anyone in the school staff who can really help either because they know nothing of witchcraft," Frankie argues.
"Then let's move our asses and do something ourselves as always like, I don't know, going inside the bubble world and save our friends!"
"Do you really wanna risk jumping inside that thing just to play the hero, like literally? And then what? We don't know if they're in any real danger, or what could happen if we get inside, assuming we find a way to get inside in the first place —"
"When has that ever stopped us!? We do this kind of shit all the time!"
"Well, how about this time instead of getting involved in something stupid and dangerous, we wait for it to solve itself!?" Frankie snaps at her, while still playing with Keith. "He said it, in time it will fade away and —"
"Probably!" Clawdeen cuts her madly. "He said probably it will be overwritten by the actual reality bringing everyone back assuming they haven't suffered a permanent death! Now you probably don't talk enough with him to know his language, but that roughly translates as if we're lucky enough, this is bubble will pop itself up — and let's pray nobody dies inside for when it does."
"Oh, that is only a comic joke because no one in comics really dies, even characters whose deaths should be permanent are brought back every now and then. The only thing truly dead here is the party. Also I would very much like to stay away from a movie war zone with super powers, and I recommended you to do the same," Fran insists.
"Our friends are in that war zone and none of them had costumes — most of our classmates didn't, have you stopped to think about what's happening to them now?"
"Maybe they're enjoying the experience." Fran concludes with a mixture of indifference and bitterness. "But okay, say you can fix anything — everything once you get inside… how do you plan to get inside? That thing is rigged to bounce back anyone who touches it."
"Well, why do you think I got him? Please, tell me you can at least come up with a plan for this," she turns begging eyes to her boyfriend.
Pausing the game, he stares a her fixedly, his face expressionless, his eyes reflecting his lack of interest as anything he had to gain tonight is forfeit already. She knows how his mind is processing the situation: no party means no concert, no concert means no magic show with extended and unseen movie teaser and no chance to meet his favorite celeb, which means there is no reason to venture in this enterprise and the best thing for him to do is wait til morning to see if the spell fades because it is stupid to waste energy and time to solve a problem that would solve itself — most important, he didn't make.
With his middle finger and his thumb he presses his nose bridge, then stands up, reaching her hands, caressing every single knuckle of hers, most tenderly before saying.
"If we are to solve this, things will most likely get… out of hand… this is hardly a PG-13 movie we're jumping in, after all… worst comes to be, then you would have to take on more violent means than your usual… open heart talk or whatever is it you ghouls usually do to solve your problems, or…" he takes a deep breath. "This isn't family friendly territory, darling. Assuming the danger in there is actually real enough to harm them in any way, to open it would be more dangerous."
"…I don't care — if anything that is only the more reason to go in there and save my friends. You just tell me how can we get inside the snow globe of peril to save them. If they're safe, that's great, but of they're not… I really can't wait to see if this thing vanishes in the next eight hours and everyone made it out alive. And the PR nightmare this would be — Bloodgood will have our head for this, no doubt."
Sighing deeply, he finally gives in to her desires…
"Under one condition," he blurts. "From now on, no more parties, I don't care what, you will not drag me into one of them again — specially if it ends up like this."
"Deal."
"All right then, first I gotta get some things from my room, meanwhile you can stay here, few people still on the fair would probably stay there but if they want in, tell them the party is over, if anybody useful was out and comes back, keep them here."
Thirty-six minutes have passed from then, and just when the ghouls assembled begin to lose their patience, he finally strolls down the corner with a drawstring bag in one hand and his cat on the other, wearing her hat and being as adorable as a feline can be.
Much as he expected few more people came back to the ballroom, among them some people he hasn't even talked yet, and others who are just like ghosts from yesterday.
A beautiful ghost that can easily be a beauty from a tragedy from a much simpler time that is not really that far, with eyes blank and expressionless and yet so mesmerizing, inherent to them there is an allure that can't be defined and only a selected few can see, her lips pretty as they might be are always shut even when smiling, rarely speaking the words her mind and heart shout inside, yet one day they will break their vow of silence and shriek death upon the windows of her keen, her skin green and smooth with little make up but beautifully done matching her green with light purple on the eyes.
"Hi," Scarah says timidly, waving a hand. Keith walks past her not bothering to look at her, utterly ignoring her existence.
"I thought you guys were good friends," Frankie whispers in her ear, surprised by his cold and uncaring demeanor towards her.
"He is… I'm the one who's not," answers looking prone, ashamed of herself.
Next to Clawdeen are Robecca, Venus, and Viper.
On a corner sits Operetta, her face, even though masked, can't hide her concern. Jinafire, who happened to be in the bathroom, sits next to her offering her solace, her arms wrapped around her shoulders, resting against a wall, is Twyla.
"Hi slim," she greets him with more familiarity than expected.
"Hi deary," he answers backs with more warmth in his voice than his usual. "So these are all the people who got left out?" asks he to Clawdeen.
"The ones who would be… useful as you said, some other people tried to come in but Venus and Scarah… convinced them to leave. There were also other students… who wanted to stay or come in but I had to make them leave too."
"Is that so? Just these girl? Not that I'm complaining, but are there no more than five boys in this whole school? Me and Devi excluded," he asks looking at the ghouls with an inquisitive and assessing look.
A derisive sneer scapes her lips. "Come to think about it, not really. You should consider yourself lucky."
"I sure do. Well, I have done more with less and better with worse. I trust you gave them a summary of what's going on in there."
"Yes magic bullshit we don't really get leaving our friends trapped inside a… what was it again? A Reality Marble?" Venus interjects, sounding everything but pleased.
"Is a Reality Bubble."
"And I must believe you really got a plan to get them out?"
"Oh, no way! Getting them out would be stupid and risky — no way to calculate what could come out to bite us in the face, for me to do that I would need more time than I have and it wouldn't solve the problem either. The solution is to get inside the bubble and get the one who did this undo it. Once done, she gets back on stage plays the old it's all part of the show card, and once it's over she plays the movie clip on screen in the student lounge for us, and finally we can move on with our lives, head home and wait for the summer to see that stupid movie hit the theaters."
"And we are to believe you can do this because you're supposed to be what? Frankenstein meets Merlin?"
"Haha! I'm laughing a fake laugh. Hiding real pain," says as mockingly as he can, getting a scowl from Venus. "Oh, I love your Mad Max meets Milan streets outfit by the way, I totally get the feeling I'm talking to a post-apocalyptic pseudo-Amazonian queen who just came back from a ride on her velociraptor and is looking for well dressed fashionistas to feed it with — fuel for the tank is important. Please, PLEASE, tell me you got it parked outside and is waiting for you to feed it, 'cause I'll be honest… always wanted to see a werewolf gladiator fighting a dinosaur to death. My money is on gladiator wolf with a sword, by the way," explains pointing at Clawdeen who can only look at her friend with an apologetic expression.
"Sorry, I should have told you… he doesn't take kindly people questioning his abilities with anything, but he can do this, trust me."
"Fine, I'll trust you. "
"Hey I meant what I said about her outfit, it achieves a perfect balance of two completely contrasting and opposite styles, elegance and rebelliousness all at once. This is the stuff you gotta look out for, the competition here is getting the upper hand on you."
"Thank you, I guess," Jinafire says, not sure whether to believe it or not.
"I also mean what I said about the dinosaur, please tell me you got a dinosaur somewhere here that she can fight to death with — don't worry deary, I totally got your beautiful and smooth back, morally speaking, I'm not changing my bet in the last moment because I know you can extinguish it back, you know what? Doesn't matter, I'm sure you'll find a dinosaur in there, hopefully it wasn't an idiot in a dinosaur costume."
"And here I thought you were of the quiet type." Venus remarks.
"Only when the mood suits him," she explains, taking him apart to ask in a murmur into his ear "You already drunk, ain't ya?"
"Well, in case you haven't noticed, we don't have time for stupid questions. I gotta open my way through a supernatural phenomena — a miracle in its very nature that breaks all laws of nature and physics. That is super complicated stuff, and I need to focus." With a furious kick, he opens the doors to the ballroom and stares at the large bubble glowing a violent violet, saying with a grin "Hello danger."
Clawdeen knowing what his answer means, slams her paw flat across her face.
"You really know how to pick them, don't you?" Venus turns to Clawdeen as soon as he begins to unpack on the floor everything he brought in his bag.
Clawdeen stands opposite, arms crossed, FUMING. "He's… a work in progress."
"Well, you better get working fast."
"For the record," says he, beginning the preparations for… whatever he's going to do, "I could have used this whole time to watch an awesome slasher film series marathon that was going to be all day on TV, and then some porn. Good porn I've been waiting to watch for days, so I hope you show some appreciation for this when we're done."
The process of piercing through a Reality Bubble isn't simple, for most of magic users among monster kind (mostly wizards and witches) it would be unthinkable to attempt such a thing, not because it is not doable, but because the power required isn't always available, thus why the idea has always been fiddled with on paper and rarely brought out to practice. Having said this, what most of the few witches and wizards who have managed to break through the personal reality of another have to say is that the only reason why any other caster hasn't done such thing is by the lack of talent to do such thing. If power is the problem, there is always plenty of places for them to harvest… or those always ready to bargain. Fortunately, Monster High possesses nearly two hundred years of history, and many spiritually powerful ley lines exist in the school, or rather the land upon which the school sits is like a large ley line convergence point — a knot some would say, whatever secret history lies underneath this soil to explain why this particular power is still unknown to him, but he would soon learn it and get an answer to his question: was the school built here because of this or did it become like this because of the school? Well, for now it is most utterly irrelevant, the point is the power he needs is right next to him, or at least most of it, all he needs to do is reach out to it and seize it… in a most literal way, reaching out to the air with his hand wearing a strange fingerless green leather gauntlet with an intricate pattern on the back, a sigil ghastly resembling a skull against a blazing sun, wires running along in and out, connecting with what they guess used to be a smartphone, or at least the screen, attached by metal clasps.
"As always I'm afraid to ask," Clawdeen begins, "but I have to, what is that?"
"Just a little something I've been working on, an artificial magic circuit gauntlet," explains with a grin that reflects utter pride in his invention. "Evidence my potential hasn't been wasted."
"So this is what you do in your free time?" Frankie asks.
"Yes, kind of, among other things. I based this on a design by Dr. Steam, improved upon it — considering the fact that he only fiddled with it on paper and never got the chance to make one, and of course there were some things he got wrong, because it was the nineteenth century —and we got better materials nowadays. Now, this here, in theory should help me gather the mana in the air the same way a born witch does. Not sure this would hold for what you're asking me, but is our best choice and a really good test."
Next, using a dark chalk distilled from the dusted bones and blood of dead witches bleed and burned at the stake of the lovely state of Salem, he draws a magic ward: a ring of power carved around a ring of nine purging circles connected by a line that traces the form of a star, surrounding a ward of transition. In the center, he places a crystal ball with a blackened skull inside. It is an all-or-nothing ritual, but Keith stares and nods triumphantly in satisfaction at the quality of his work
From the corner an unnaturally coy and low voice sounds, seizing the ghouls attention.
"Are you sure we should do this?" Operetta inquires.
"No," Frankie says while Clawdeen answers with as much certainty "Yes."
Both girls stare at each other, never being so out of sync.
Given he's finished the preparations for the ward quicker than he had anticipated, Keith has some free time until the mana in both his body and most importantly his gauntlet reach their peak, with the gauntlet being a key to all this since it is the instrument with which he can convert the mana in the atmosphere, the way Casta does oh-so unfairly naturally as breathing.
Unconsciously — probably because of boredom — he takes another drink from his flask, then looks at the girls, ignoring Clawdeen's scowling.
"Sorry, do you want some?"
"No thanks," Operetta replies hiding on the back hoping nobody saw her make a little gesture with her hand, as if to say I do, only to pull it back.
"Operetta, right? See your hand did a little thing there. Well bad news, this stuff is not for sharing, is too good for you."
Operetta glares at him.
He stands before his magic ward, checking his wrist watch, 11:34 P.M. Soon to be midnight in a Halloween night, when the veil of life and death is thinnest — and is fairly certain to be a dark night somewhere in Russia as well. No other time could be more appropriately suited to Keith Morningstar as he presides over all night and darkness.
A heavy exhale billows from his lips as he rehearses a mental exercise for controlling his emotions and voids his mind from any turmoil he has, a strong waft of cheap coconut vodka hits his nose and Clawdeen's who stands just close enough for her wolf nose to smell it, which could be from right behind him to over the vending machine down the hall.
"Let's get this started."
For the girls his words come out emotionless and neutral, as if all this were just a dull assignment he does out of obligation, but for him the traces of tension that taint his voice are more than perceptible, like a sour aftertaste in his tongue after eating candy — a good sign that he is maintaining a favorable if not optimal mental condition. Perhaps it'd be optimal if I were sober but good lord I can't bear this sober — because of course I am like the one male left in this whole school, he concludes after quickly analyzing himself.
Raising his gauntleted hand, which now glows an eery purple light with dark shades around the skull, he gathers the magical energies from the room.
"Just one more thing, I'm doing this at big personal risk for you, so never let it be said in life I don't care for your needs or feelings, and when I get to pay for it, you can kiss nice Keith good bye." Keith states with eyes fixed in the Reality Bubble.
"What?" Clawdeen asks aback.
Thus he begins chanting, his voice vibrating as an evensong tune.
"By the name of the Seraphim…
O black angel who spread his coal wings and flew into the night, heed my plead.
For my dark hand, I command my soul.
For the deer's hand… I command thy spirit.
O power of the world, come to rest in my hand,
for I call upon thee in need…"
He pauses the incantation, and at the same time, he feels a dull sense of discomfort, as though the invisible hands — or rather claws of a monster are playing with his organs, pinching in his stomach, his lounges, his heart…
His entire body — his entire human body forced to do something very natural and yet something every way unnatural. Something that if stretched any longer could be quite lethal for him. Aware of this, Keith wildly puts the pedal to the metal stepping down even harder, further accelerating the mana circulating within his body.
"As an affront to your divine nature has been made.
A wound that most be healed… and by my dark hand it shall be done…
Let me tear the purple veil to glimpse into this world that is not."
Then the circle glows dark purple and suddenly turns ablaze, the girls gasp in shock and are shaken in fear while he stands there unflinching among the blue blazes; and yet, even with the ward in which he stands bursting into unearthly flames, the flames known as mana the fuel of all magic, his concentration is not broken — instead he stands firm as a demon in the fire where he was born or perhaps just the opposite — a dark angel welcoming its gentle caress, and continues the incantation without hesitation for now is not the time for Keith to be paying attention to such things, now is the moment to finish what will finally be the realization of a miracle and if he does this, won't he become and angel then?
"I am now your humble servant, o grand Seraphim of the night.
Let the gates be open… to see this other world be crossed over.
Let this world be crossed… for it to be crushed.
Let this world be crushed for no other must stand in your grace, that is my oath to you."
At the same time as these words are spoken, the bluish flames from around Keith become a raging purple fire storm which makes the girls cower in panic, and Robecca covers her face with her hands. Clawdeen, Frankie and Scarah let it wash over them like a warm summer breeze, already having some experience with the theatrics that come with his magic tricks. Compared with the one he used in the woods months ago, this is a step up.
For an instant that seems to extend into forever, nothing happens. Then, the lights from the halls outside flicker madly until they're fully blocked by the flow of descending, accumulating dark energy, and a sense of dread glides between them. It is only for a moment, a second or two… the strange feeling comes and goes so fast as the fleeting shadow of a hawk diving into the ground for its pray, but they feel it deep into their bones.
Then in contrast to the frightening darkness outside, there is a blinding light erupting from the complex and elaborately drawn magic ward. Smiling, Keith reaches for his main tool. From his jacket he pulls out his kriss dagger and cuts the flames around him, just one swing is enough to make it glow as if it has just been heated in a forge, that is if heated iron glows icy blue instead of hot red.
"Thank you," Keith murmurs, shooting a quick glance around the ballroom.
Thanks who? Clawdeen thinks… consciously ignoring how truly, the darkness above their heads mirrors the darkness in his voice.
Now with dagger in hand he steps forward to the sphere and stabs it tearing open a hole large enough for them to cross.
"Goddammit, I love myself! Now, who wants to come in?"
