Club Scaretale (Part 2)

She was murdered. The Storyteller had been murdered, and for days, Anette had been closed off from the world.

Emma’s funeral had been a quiet one, all the staff from the club turned up, even the owner. Speeches and tears had been shed. Anette could not remember much of it. Anger and sorrow had been battling in her heart, but she made an effort not to let it show on the outside. It was a weakness.

One week she had been given to grieve, then she would go back to work.

It was hard to get back to how it used to be. The pure joy she felt of going to work had been extinguished when she found out that Emma had been murdered in one of the dressing rooms. Tuomas, the pianist, had been the one who found her, lying in a pool of her own blood. It was a gunshot wound to the chest that had been her undoing. No one had seen anything and the security cameras had been turned off.

“Well, that is fucking fantastic!” Anette thought when she heard about it. The investigators had found no evidence that could point out the murderer, so the club continued their business as usual.

But this time it would be different. A new Storyteller had to be chosen.

    

Anette raised her hand and knocked gently on the blood red door that led to the Wishmaster’s room. 

“Come in!”

Hesitantly, she opened the door and immediately the heavy scent of incense greeted her. Candles in each corner and on the heavy wooden desk lighted up the office. There were several bookshelves filled with old, leather covered books. An old phonograph played a soft melody while the man behind the desk looked at it, deep in thought.

Anette sat down on the visitors chair and noticed the quill in front of her.

“So, it is a replacement you are looking for?” Anette thought somberly and swallowed back the sob that threatened to escape.

“This is not easy.”

The Wishamster’s voice cut through her thoughts and she looked up to meet his gaze. He was, as always, dressed in a black suit and a top hat, not even a strand of hair in the wrong place.

“We both know that we need a Storyteller.”

“No, YOU need one. She was the reason why people came to visit this place, the reason why people kept throwing money in front of your feet. It is the green little monster called Greed that keeps telling you that we need to replace her and do not think…”

He brought down his clenched fist on the desk, quickly silencing the black haired woman.

“You are not the only one who has been grieving her. I know we have had our differences in the past, Anette, but for once, just trust me when I say that it is not just about the money.”

The man settled back in his chair.

“This place is an escape. People need a place to which they can escape. You, as well as I, see the joy in people’s eyes when they go home after a night filled with wonders. To take it away from them would be cruel.”

Anette was well aware of what he was saying. She had made hard ass men and women cry like little children during her performances. She knew what power she had over them.

Club Scaretale was addicting and people always came back for more.

The best part was when children started to come with their parents. The joy and amazement in their eyes did not go unnoticed by either of the employees.

“It was real life Disney magic!” they often called it.

That was the best part of Anette’s job.

Anette crossed her arms over her chest.

“I am well aware of what you are saying.”

“Good, then why are you hesitating? You look at the quill like it is going to burn you.”

He was right, of course. She hated that about him. Arguments between herself and the Wishmaster often erupted. She was the only one who dared to defy him. Countless arguments about working hours to the position of the piano on stage left their lips and often fell on deaf ears. But Anette was always too stubborn and refused to back down until she got what she wanted. Although this time, she caved.

She breathed in deeply and uncrossed her arms before she picked up the quill with shaking hands.

She felt the familiar buzz of magic, it tickled in her fingertips and spread towards her chest. She closed her eyes and felt how her heart started to flutter before a warm blanket seemed to have covered every inch of her skin.

Anette opened her eyes and looked at the quill. It glowed intensely and lit up the dim room.

She looked back up on the Wishmaster and saw the astonishment in his eyes.

Shocked and speechless, Anette dropped the quill and ran out the door, quickly shutting it and leaning her forehead on the wall outside the office.

She tried to calm down her rapidly beating heart while the feeling of newly discovered magic continued to buzz on her skin.

Big changes were on their way, and for Anette they would be life changing.

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A/N

Hey all! 

I won't be updating next Monday, since we are celebrating Midsummer here in Sweden and it's kind of a big holiday for me, both religiously and traditionally. The next chapter will only be delayed one week, nothing more.

This chapter is a bit short, I know, but I wanted some kind of background before the story truly begins. The storyline is already finished in my head, just needs some polishing before I put it down in a document.

Club Scaretale (Part 1)

She felt the anticipation in the air. The smell of smoke and the sound of clinking glasses filled her senses while the smooth, black piano felt cool against her warm skin. Behind the curtain, she was in her own little world, preparing herself for the long night ahead.

Soon, everyone’s eyes were going to be on her.

“Five minutes left, Anette.”

Anette adjusted the microphone and took a deep breath. The familiar stage fright kicked in and made her head feel dizzy. However, she knew that it would fade away just as the curtains were drawn back and the light from the spotlights fell onto the stage.

This was the place where she belonged.

Around her, the band began to pick up their instruments. She felt the gaze of the pianist as he sat down on the bench in front of the piano. Anette smiled gently at him and nodded her head in greeting.

She heard the steps of the club owner behind the curtain before his voice drifted through the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, be heartlessly welcome to this magical evening here at club Scaretale. The place where your greatest nightmares and fantasies may come to life. With us tonight is the beautiful and talented singer Anette Olzon and the house band. Let us all give them a big hand!”

The applause rained over Anette as the curtains drew back and revealed the audience. The piano began to play the familiar melody and soon Anette began to sing. She held the microphone tightly in her hand and scanned the crowd in search for familiar faces.

It was a Friday night and the club was packed. Men in suits and women in evening gowns were sipping their drinks while Anette’s voice drifted through their ears and into their very core.

She recognized all of them. Businessmen, mayors, and other important people in the government were here. They came here every Friday to watch her sing.

But Anette was reminded that it was not only her they came here to see. She lifted her eyes towards the ceiling and watched how a myriad of colors and stars began to swirl together. As she sang the chorus, the color red seemed to explode over her and made her long, red dress glow. Anette smirked as she heard a few small gasps from the audience. Carefully, she sat up on the piano and swayed her head back and forth as the guitar solo came up. The lightshow above started to calm down and changed to a calm blue color. Anette soon found the pair of eyes she was looking for. They belonged to one of her most loyal regulars, Frederick Peterson. He and his friends came here almost every Friday and Wednesday night and left a generous tip for her after her performance.

The guitar solo came to an end and Anette breathed in deeply before the final chorus. The ceiling exploded in a bright pink color and rained down on the audience.

When the song was over and applauds erupted, Anette got down from the piano and bowed deeply. She smiled brightly and exited the stage, moving towards the dressing rooms to change to another dress.

The night was young and the show was far from over.

She sang a number of songs during the evening, most of them were ballads, and the audience were in an awe. But soon she would rip them from the security they seemed to have formed.

The most wicked song was left, to Anette’s delight. She always enjoyed singing this one.

Dressed in her Evil Snow White costume, she stepped out on stage. The audience applauded, knowing what was going to happen next.

The spotlights dimmed down while Anette grabbed the microphone and held it tightly in her hand.

She was no longer Anette, she was the Bride, the Nightmare in human form.

This was her show.

A carousel appeared in the middle of the room. White and purple horses went up and down, accompanied by a soft melody. A children’s choir could be heard in the distance.

The pianist brought down his keys hard and broke the peaceful sight.

Clowns and skeletons with hollow eyes appeared and danced around the tables. They were an illusion, but Anette could see the fright in people’s eyes.

She plastered a wicked grin on her lips and started to sing.

“Once upon a time in a daymare…”

The audience was on a rollercoaster, arriving to one horrible thing after the other. Anette’s voice was haunting them and the lightshow above made their eyes widen. Blue danced around with black and purple. There were circus acts. Sword swallowers, fire breathers, jongleurs, trapeze artists and animal handlers. The ceiling was alive, and when the ringmaster’s voice came, they all stopped for a moment.

“Ladies and gentlemen

Be heartlessly welcome

To Cirque De Morgue

And what a show we have for you tonight”

If you touched the clowns, they would dissolve into smoke. But none of the audience members dared to move. Anette watched them in amusement.

Fireworks erupted. A pendulum swooped down and cut through the crowd. Even though they knew it would dissolve, they still screamed.

The song came to an end. The carousel was back as the clowns and the skeletons moved to the back of the stage.

Anette came back to being herself and felt how the Bride left her body.

The audience applauded and Anette bowed deeply again.

“Great show tonight!”

Anette turned her head from looking in the body length mirror in her dressing room to the person who stood at the threshold.

“You were not so bad yourself, Emma!” Anette said and walked towards the Storyteller.

Magic was what made club Scaretale special. You could feel it lying heavily in the air. The lightshow and all other special effects came from magic. The club was built upon a fissure that transported magic from another realm to this world. It was a well-kept secret between the employees and the owner, a man called the Wishamster. He had come from the other world, bringing with him various books and knowledge about the fissure and the magic that was leaking out of it.

To make a magnificent show they needed a Storyteller. Someone who could bring written words to life. The Wishmaster passed around a quill and when it began glow in a bright yellow color, the quill had chosen its master. It made its way through the employee’s hands until it ended up in Emma’s hand, and the bright color that erupted when she touched it almost blinded her.

Since that day, Emma had been the one responsible for the amazing effects in the club. She had a book where she wrote down all the shows and what effects she wanted to use.

It took a long time for Anette to get used to the club, but now, she could not imagine a life without it.

It was the end of the night and only a handful of people remained in the club. Emma and Anette walked out from the backstage area to the bar and ordered drinks for themselves.

“It still amazes me, you know? What you do…”

Emma gave Anette a confused look before she grabbed the beer on the countertop and gulped down the cold liquid.

“Nahh, its nothing. Just write and read. It does not get more complicated than that.”

Emma and Anette never had time to spend time outside of work and every Friday night they would order drinks and talk until the club closed.

A question burned on Anette’s tongue and she had to get it out before her whole mouth caught fire.

“When the song Scaretale come up… do you…. do you control me in any way? Give me another personality somehow? Because the slight change in me scares me sometimes.”

Emma smiled brightly at her friend and brought a lock of blonde hair behind her ear.

“No that is actually not me. I would never do that to someone. The whole control thing freaks me out. But it is really fascinating to see the Nightmare, or whatever you want to call her.”

“Yeah I can imagine. Having all that power in your hand and at the tip of your tongue. I do not think I could handle that.”

Emma chuckled and shifted in the barstool.

“It is addictive and dangerous, but at the same time, it is really beautiful. If you would read a book aloud, then the chapters would play like a movie in front of you.”

Anette let Emma’s words sink in and finished her own drink.

They continued their conversation until Anette had a hard time to stifle the yawn that tried to escape her lips. She got up from the stool and turned towards Emma.

“Are you coming?”

Emma looked at the black hired woman and nodded.

“No I think I am going to stay here for a while. I just… there are some things I have to go through.”

Anette frowned at the slight stutter in her friend’s voice, but chose not to make a comment about it. Emma was a private person, and even though they had been friends for months, she still was hesitant to reveal any major secrets about herself.

Anette did not want to push her, so instead she leaned forward and gave the blonde a hug.

“See you tomorrow!” Anette said in her cheerful tone before she went to the exit, leaving a night of work behind her and a comfortable bed to look forward to.

The constant buzzing of her phone woke her up. Anette rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and went to grab the device on the bedside table. She quickly checked the caller ID and saw the name Emppu on the screen. The guys in the house band rarely called her, they did most of their discussions face to face.

Anette cleared her throat and pressed the button to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Anette…!”

He had a slight tremor in his voice and immediately it felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured into her veins.

“Emppu… what happened?”

“It’s… I… there was so much blood… we could not save her…”

Anette heard the tears in his voice and shot up in a sitting position in her bed.

“Who”

There was a pause at the other end of the phone before Emppu spoke up.

“It is Emma, she is… she is dead.”   

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A/N

I just couldn't help myself. Yes, I did steal some things from Once Upon A Time and I will continue to do so. Don't judge me, it's a great show! 

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I will start to write on the next one as soon as possible.