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.