Darren's nightmare is a nod to the crackfic I wrote when I was 14. TVF Christmas Carol you will always be (in)famous to me.
⋆꙳❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:・*❆ ₊⋆
Chapter 2: A Living Nightmare (Before Christmas)
⋆꙳❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:・*❆ ₊⋆
THREE WEEKS LATER — DECEMBER 22
Darren awoke in a cold sweat. He'd just had the strangest dream. It probably qualified as a nightmare. He was back in Vampire Mountain and he'd gotten the notion in his head that he could stage a musical theatre production of A Christmas Carol in the Hall of Princes. Larten, Seba, Harkat, Kurda, Mika, Arrow, and Paris were all there. Although not Vanez, for reasons that were never made clear. (The lucky bastard). Seba kept getting drunk on eggnog. Kurda seemed to have been lobotomized. Everyone else seemed more or less the same; albeit characterized versions of their real selves. There was all kinds of stuff in Vampire Mountain that had no business being there. There was even a computer. What idiot dragged that thing in? How did it even work? The eeriest part was how real it all felt.
Thank God, or the gods, or whoever was on duty tonight (he wasn't picky at this point) it wasn't real.
Darren took several deep breaths as he glanced around the familiar interior of the camper van he shared with Darius, who was snoring obliviously in the top bunk. It was 4:45 in the morning. Only six more hours til it was time to drive to the ferry terminal to retrieve his family for what would be one of the best Christmases ever. Just Darren, Darius, Mum, Dad, Annie, Callum, and the twins. Mum booked an AirBnB the second she got the invitation. There'd be room for Darren and Darius to stay there too; a welcome break from the camper.
The dream had been a sign, Darren realized as he closed his eyes and attempted (in vain) to fall back to sleep. Changing his mind about inviting everyone else had been the right decision.
⋆꙳❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:・*❆ ₊⋆
SIX HOURS LATER — THE FERRY
"Are you practicing for when we go to the airport tomorrow?"
"How does one practice for the airport?"
"By checking their pocket every six seconds to make sure the boarding passes haven't escaped. It'd make more sense if we hadn't already boarded." Debbie grinned and squeezed her wife's hand as they stood side-by-side at the railing, staring out into the frigid navy seawater that separated the island from the mainland. Alice rolled her eyes and let out a soft scoff at that, as if being truly seen wasn't favourite thing about Debbie.
"We won't have to worry about the airport if our tickets for the return ferry go missing between now and then. If we miss that boat, we miss our flight." Alice reminded her. It was true. It took militant precision to strategize their holiday travel plans to attend the Cirque performance and get back to the mainland in time to drive to the airport and fly across the country in time for the Hemlock family Christmas, but Alice had managed. And Debbie loved her for it, among countless other things.
Debbie looped an arm around Alice's shoulders and kissed her cheek. "Come on, let's go to the coffee stand."
They both turned around, and all thoughts coffee promptly slipped from her mind. Something, no, someone had caught her eye.
"She looks familiar. Where have we seen her before?" Debbie mused in an undertone. Alice took a closer look without making it too obvious. Sure enough, there was something familiar about the brown-haired bright-eyed woman who was rocking a fussy toddler while the man beside her did the same with an identical child.
Debbie turned to Alice, dark eyes alight. "I know! She looks just like her brother! That must be —"
"Annie!" Another young woman appeared from amidst the crowd. Gracie Smahlt-Ver Leth was a familiar face to both Debbie and Alice, despite having only met them at their wedding. They watched as Gracie greeted Annie with a hug that suggested they'd met several times. By the time she caught Debbie and Alice's eyes and waved them over, they were already on their way.
"Do you think Darren invited the entire night shift crew…" Alice muttered out of the corner of her mouth, referring to Darren's many vampire and vampaneze acquaintances, "…or just the ones that can function in normal society?"
"Baby, we're going to a freak show." Debbie snorted as they approached Gracie and Annie. "What do you think?"
As if he'd been waiting for his cue, another familiar, sun-blistered face stepped directly in front of them, grinning with yellowed teeth as the wind whipped his tangled green hair to and fro.
"Sire March." Said Debbie politely. "Nice to see you again."
"Well, fancy meeting the two of you here!" Vancha gathered both of them into a tight, smelly hug that lifted them off their feet for a moment. "Glad to see the newlywed glow hasn't faded yet. You both look as illustrious as the day you said I do."
"And you stink as bad now as you did then." Alice grunted. "By the way, my family still thinks you wandered in off the streets to crash our wedding and Deb was too kind to ask you to leave."
"Isn't that more or less exactly what happened?" Gannen Harst remarked, appearing by his brother's side. Debbie and Vancha laughed.
"It's a more plausible story than how they actually met him." Gracie grimaced in Vancha's direction, then threw her arms around Alice and Debbie in turn. "So nice to see you both! Have you met —"
"Darren's sister, Annie." Debbie finished the sentence. "Not til just now, but I feel like I've known her for years."
"And you must be Debbie and Alice." Said Annie, shaking their hands in turn. The Shan generics were uncanny. Her eyes were the exact shade of green as Darren's, and they had the same sparkle when they smiled. "Wow. You two are legends! I can't believe we're all here. I'm just sorry for the circumstances." She paused solemnly, then added with a smirk, "The circumstances being my brother's history of questionable decisions, of course."
There came a great chorus of laughter from all around them. It became clear Darren had indeed invited the entire night shift and they'd all heard Annie's sisterly jab. Annie went on to introduce her husband, Callum, her twin babies Eleanor and Robbie, and her parents, Dermot and Angela Shan. Even surrounded by blood-sipping night walkers, the whole family just seemed happy to be there.
"Hey, I don't see that Mr. Crepsley fellow." Debbie remarked, still scanning the crowd even after she'd completed the gauntlet of introductions. "Is he still… you know."
"Oh, yeah. Crepsley's alive and well. Weird as ever." Gracie shrugged, pulling a wry face. "He got the same invitation everyone else did, and insisted he had to stay behind and look after the mountain. Wouldn't want Darren to think he misses him." She exchanged an eye roll with Harkat Mulds, who was standing several feet away. Harkat's eyes couldn't roll back, but he answered the look with a knowing shrug that suggested they were skeptical of Crepsley's absence.
Admittedly Debbie didn't know much about vampires and their strange customs. All she knew was that they were notoriously unaffectionate; Crepsley in particular. Yet there was no small amount of irony in the fact that the one vampire who abstained from making the trip was the one Darren had once pretended — and very convincingly so — was his father.
Just then, the captain's voice echoed from the intercom — "Attention, passengers. Due to high winds, we are experiencing rougher waters than usual. At this time we request that all passengers take a seat and remain there for the duration of the voyage."
Most of the vampires and vampaneze scoffed at the rational safety guidelines being imposed here. Vancha took it as a challenge to climb the railing and was promptly chastised by a deck steward. While visibly thrilled by the experience, he conceded and took a seat beside Alice — to her dismay — and asked her if she wanted a sip from his flask.
"I'll pass on the human blood, thanks." She replied, leaning as far away from him as the limited space would allow."
"Oh, it's not blood!" Vancha reassured her. "The blood's in my other flask." He patted his left hip pocket. "This one's milk!"
"The humans don't want your unpasteurized milk either, you fool." Gannen growled under his breath from Vancha's other side.
"Of course it's pasteurized! The cow was in the pasture when I milked it; happy as can be!"
Debbie had never been more grateful for the teacher reflexes that allowed her to lock names and faces into her memory after one brief introduction. Then again, they were plenty memorable. Across from her, the one known as Arrow sat hunched over with his head in his hands. Seasickness (paired with debilitating thalassophobia) had gotten the better of him. He was flanked by his fellow Prince, Mika, and one of the two vampire sports specialists who went by Hale. Both kept a comforting hand on Arrow's shoulders while trading eye-rolls with each other.
"Our chances aren't bad, A." Mika attempted to reassure him. "I'm running the numbers and I think there's almost enough lifeboats for everyone if the ship goes down. We'll just have to be fast."
Vancha, Gannen, Harkat, Alice, and Annie all laughed at that.
"Women and children get priority." Hale interjected, visibly fighting a smirk. "It's maritime law."
"Fuck. Never mind." Mika played along, straight-faced. "Life jackets and positive thinking for us, then."
Arrow groaned in distress. Angela Shan was sitting a few seats down. Being the world-class mother she was, she immediately sympathized with his plight. She caught Mika's eye and asked very sincerely, "Would your husband like some Gravol? I find it helps with the motion sickness."
Kurda and Hale, who sat on either side of Mika and Arrow, burst into uproarious laughter at the innocent faux-pas. It was an honest mistake. Meanwhile, Arrow raised his head to look at Angela as if she was, well, an angel from heaven.
"That would be lovely, Ma'am."
⋆꙳❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:・*❆ ₊⋆
THE OTHER SIDE
Darren had become quite adept at driving, if he did say so himself. Mr. Tall had no qualms about handing over the keys to the newest addition to the fleet, an ivory Escalade. It even came with a GPS; although Darren was able to find his way back to the ferry terminal by memory alone. The Cirque's convoy of campers, trucks, and vans had arrived there just three days before. Everything was show-ready back at the theatre. All that was left to do was pick up the VIP guests: Mum, Dad, Annie, Callum, and the twins.
Darius was sitting in the passenger seat beside him, practically bouncing off the windows with excitement. "There's Mum! And Grandma and Grandpa!"
Sure enough, the whole family was emerging through the revolving glass doors and toting suitcases. Darren's heart leapt and he wheeled the massive SUV into the first available parking spot with a level of smooth precision he was certain he'd never be able to replicate. Darius was out of the car and in his mother's arms before Darren even put it in park. Darren knew the feeling. He ran to his Mum first, too. It defied the laws of physics that she could still pick him up, but she managed.
"There's my little Prince!"
"I missed you, Mum. Thanks so much for coming." Darren could've hugged her for the rest of his life, if not for the fact that Dad needed a turn.
"You've grown." Dad remarked, looking his son up and down with disbelief. "You almost look your age now!"
"That's awfully generous, Dad. He's giving college freshman at best." Annie rolled her eyes, but she was beaming as she slid between her parents to embrace her brother. Her husband, Callum, wasn't far behind. He bearing one twin in each arm. Both toddlers were clinging to a stuffed animal Darren recognized well. Robbie had a Madam Octa, and Eleanor had a wolf-man. The plush versions were much safer and more endearing than their real-life counterparts.
Darren was spared deciding who to embrace first; it became the best group hug he'd ever have. Once the greetings were out of the way, Darren and Darius took everyone's luggage and packed it into the spacious trunk of the SUV.
"Alright, I'll drive you to the AirBnB. It's right across the road from the theatre. You'll have a few hours to settle in before the show starts." Said Darren as he closed the trunk and headed around to open the passenger doors.
Angela paused beside the vehicle, looking from the door to the terminal and back again. "Dear, I don't think we're all going to fit in there."
"Of course we will. It seats eight. There's eight of us. I even borrowed the Vons' old car seats for Robbie and El…" Darren glanced over at the terminal and his voice trailed off as he tried to determine what kind of hallucination he was experiencing.
Alice and Debbie? And Gracie?! What were they doing here? While he remembered writing their invitations, he had no recollection of mailing them. All three were walking side-by-side, holding steaming cups of coffee and sharing the type of laughter that can only be found in the grandest of inside jokes. As if they'd all known each other forever. As if the invisible string that connected them was pure gold, not part of a meddlesome puppeteer's dark web. As if none of that even mattered anyway. And maybe it didn't.
"You're here?! You're all here?" Darren heard himself blurt out between hugs.
Gracie raised an eyebrow at him. "You invited us! Why do you look so surprised?"
The strength in her embrace came as a stark reminder she was fully-blooded now, and Darren experienced a sharp pang of some emotion he didn't know how to label. He'd been a half-blood for almost two decades before she was. Now she'd moved up in the world, and here he still was. Right where he'd started.
Probably for the best he didn't have time to dwell on that.
"Did you think we'd decline?" Debbie added, pulling a familiar-looking invitation from her pocket. "We would've RSVP'd immediately, but you didn't include a return address!"
Beside her, Alice rolled her eyes. "That would've been more useful than the damn glitter! It got all over our new sofa and the dog."
Oh boy. An equally unsettling and exhilarating thought occurred to Darren. If their invitations had somehow been dispatched, by that logic… so had everyone else's.
Another familiar voice caught Darren's ear: "Did you hear that, Kurda? I told you I wasn't overreacting about the mess!"
Darren pivoted to see two figures emerging through the terminal doors. The taller one wore a black leather jacket. The smaller wore a blue denim coat with a sherpa collar. Both wore sunglasses to protect their eyes from the weak light that trickled between the clouds. As well as they blended into the human crowd, there was no mistaking Mika and Kurda. Kurda waved and quickened his pace as soon as he spotted Darren.
"What are you doing here?!" Darren gasped as he was swept into a long, warm hug.
"What do you mean what are we doing here? We wouldn't have missed it for the world!" Said Kurda, bright blue eyes gleaming with delight.
"I was coerced to be here, personally." Mika deadpanned, straight-faced. But only for a second. Then he allowed Darren a swift smile and a firm handshake. "It's good to see you." Mika added. "You look well. But we are going to have a conversation about the glitter."
That conversation would have to wait. He'd been right about one thing. The dream was indeed a sign… of what was to come.
Arrow and Vanez appeared next; walking shoulder-to-shoulder. Arrow seemed to be serving as Vanez's guide, although he looked a little seasick. Still, he caught Darren's eye and waved. Meanwhile Co-Games Master Kaden Hale darted through the doors and grabbed Vanez by the arm before he walked into oncoming traffic.
Next were the March-Harst brothers. Vancha was laughing uproariously at Vanez's close call. Typical. Just as typical was Gannen's thin-lipped stoicism as he shook his head at his brother. Gannen was wearing sunglasses, but it was still clear he shared an eye-roll with his fellow Vampaneze Elder, Tycho Otazu, as he too emerged from behind the doors.
Then there was Shane Astor, another one of the esteemed Vampaneze Elders. He was walking close to Ambassador-General Renley Azerion. The distance (or lack thereof) between Renley and Shane made Darren wonder if the new title wasn't the only development in Renley's life since the war.
Darren's inner gossip immediately fell silent at the sight of one of his favourite faces of all time — Harkat. He waved both of his thick, grey arms as soon as Darren caught his eye.
"Darren!"
"Hey, Harkat!" Darren knew he'd grown taller since they parted, but he didn't truly realize how much taller until he had to bend his knees into a crouch in order to properly embrace his friend. "I've missed you so much."
Then, behind the glass, Darren saw red. Out popped Seba, taking great care to keep his customary red cloak from catching in the door. Darren's heart swelled with joy; he'd missed Seba almost as fiercely as Mr. Crepsley. And if his math was right, Mr. Crepsley would be the next and final face to appear. It was really happening. His unspeakably stupid wish was coming true. Darren's eyes began to burn with the threat of tears. Tears of confusion. Tears of nostalgia. Tears of bitterness. Tears of I just missed you, okay? Sue me! I can't help it!
The next several minutes became a blur of rib-cracking hugs, what are you doing heres, and what do you mean what am I doing heres. It was somewhere amidst that chaos Darren realized there'd been some magical interference with the stack of invitations he thought he'd disposed of. He really should've seen that coming.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and fired a quick text to Evra — Going to need a second passenger van at the ferry terminal. Evra arrived within minutes and parked the Cirque's largest passenger van behind the SUV Darren borrowed. Darren glanced at the doors one last time, but it was all for naught. The crowd of disembarking passengers had dwindled to nothing. Seba's remained the only red cloak among them. Where was Mr. Crepsley? Why, out of everyone, would he be the one to decline the invitation?
With difficulty, Darren turned his attention back to the crowd that had assembled around him. They were here. They'd made the trip. And now that he'd recovered from the initial shock, Darren really was happy to see all of them. One absence didn't change that. He wouldn't let it.
"Is… is this everyone?" He asked at last.
"Were you expecting more?" Vancha scoffed.
It was rhetorical. Darren didn't bother answering. His unexpected guests set about dividing themselves between the two vehicles. But Seba heard Darren's unspoken question, squeezed his shoulder and confirmed in an apologetic undertone: "Larten is not coming."
Darren forced a nod. Then a smile. Then a shrug. Each gesture took astronomical effort. "Oh. That's okay." He reassured Seba. "I guess it wasn't a good time for him to leave the mountain. The rest of you are here. What more could I possibly ask for?"
⋆꙳❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:・*❆ ₊⋆
VAMPIRE MOUNTAIN — CAVE OF BA'SHAN'S SPIDERS
"Do not look at me like that." Said Larten.
Have you nothing better to do than sit here idly and twiddle your thumbs, Madam Octa's pointed head twitch seemed to say. At least her mate of seven monogamous years, known as Lovely to the locals, was glad Larten came to visit. The honour of siring such a prolific bloodline had certainly not gone to the fluffy grey tarantula's head. He'd dropped onto Larten's shoulder and scuttled for the bag of grubs as soon as he was within range. Larten did not invest nearly as much time analyzing Lovely's brain waves as he did with Octa. There simply wasn't as much material to work with.
"I will have you know I have finished my entire to-do list with hours to spare." Larten informed her. He was seated on the wooden stool close to the cavern wall where Octa spent most of her time. He used to carry this stool with him every time he visited. Eventually he just left it.
Octa kept her eyes on him as he spoke. She seemed to study him as much as he studied her. He reached into the bag and pulled out two grubs. One for Lovely, who was now sitting on his shoulder, and one for Octa. She was perched on the wall, eye-level with him. While they didn't spend nearly as much time together as they did in the prime of his Cirque career, their mental bond had endured the test of time. She wouldn't bite. He held his palm out to offer the grub. She closed the space between them and devoured the treat in small, elegant bites. Then she clicked her pincers, which he took to mean,
This will do for now. Bring goat next time.
He rolled his eyes. "I shall see what I can do, Madam."
After several minutes and a few more grubs, he pulled a small tin flute from his pocket. It wasn't the flute; that flute had found its way back to the Cirque Du Freak where it belonged. How ironic that thing made it back before he did. He banished that thought from his mind and began to play a merry tune for the spiders. He didn't have to try to get Octa to 'dance' along. She picked it up as automatically as if she'd never missed a night on stage, bless her carapace. Lovely tried too, although he lacked her effortless grace and kept knocking other spiders out of his way. He was just happy to be included.
Larten lost track of time eventually. Most of the spiders got irritated by the noise and crept back to the upper corners of the cavern. By the time Larten ran out of familiar tunes to play, all that remained were Octa and Lovely. Lovely was asleep in the empty grub bag, but Octa's eyes hadn't strayed from Larten's face once.
"What?" He asked, throwing his hands in exasperation.
What are you still doing here?
He narrowed his eyes as he peered up at her. "Do you not enjoy my visits?"
You know what I mean.
"I am Quartermaster! I cannot just leave the mountain on a whim."
It's not a whim if you're invited somewhere.
"How do you even know that?"
I know the Cirque's customs as well as you do. There's gold dust on your shirt. Now quit changing the subject. What reason could you possibly have for turning your nose up at Darren's invitation?
"Since when do you care about such things? Besides, everyone else is going! He does not need me to be there."
He doesn't need you for anything anymore. But it speaks volumes that he wants you there anyway.
"…He will be fine either way."
Yes. Of course. Darren will be fine when he sees all of his friends and colleagues arrive to greet him… except for the one he holds most dear. Whether you can admit it or not.
"Since when are you so emotionally intuitive?"
I'm not. All I care about is when I'll be served my next helping of raw flesh. You're projecting this entire conversation. But I'm still right and you know it."
⋆꙳❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:・*❆ ₊⋆
