Dancing on Strings

Defying Reality

She knew veterans who would still move forward.

But no, this girl just span and span and Mai wasn't sure the audience quite understood what they were watching.

It was amazing for them to watch, no doubt, but she didn't believe it possible and yet she couldn't see any strings. No wires or safety cords.

She just danced on a high wire.

She span and waltzed and cartwheeled. She jumped off the wire, catching it at the last second with the crook of her parasol, whirling through the air and landing, balancing her little hat in a dramatic fashion as if she were dizzy.

And with that, after she stopped buckling her knees, she straightened and bowed and everyone cheered.

The lights went out and The Black Rabbit started laughing, shaking his head as his spotlight came back.

"So how was that one?" he called. "Wasn't she charming?"

People cheered and whistled and he laughed again.

"And what did you think, My Lady?" he asked and Mai stopped a grimace as the spotlight hit her again.

"Quite impressive," she replied and The Black Rabbit gasped.

"Quite?! Is that all?! My goodness! Ladies and gentlemen, whatever shall we do? My Lady is not very impressed."

Mai closed her eyes for a moment, then settled back in her seat, rested her arm on her the armrest and crossed her legs, looking up at him.

"I guess you'll just have to do better then, won't you?" she said coolly.

The Black Rabbit's smile twisted into that grin she spied a couple of times. It wasn't like his wide, beaming, showman smiles.

This one was more private, like they were sharing a secret joke.

Not that she had any idea what said joke was.

"How do you feel about a little horror then?" he asked, his voice dark as he tilted his head to the side.

"You think you can scare me?" Mai asked, smiling, "Be my guest."

"Ohhh, I wouldn't extend such an invitation if I were you, My Lady," he said, his voice almost a growl before he looked down. "But, if fear is the order of the day, let's meet with monsters."

His light went out and another one lit up the floor where a cage had appeared and people screamed.

A monster stood in the centre of the marble floor, locked in a steel cage that stood ten feet tall.

It needed to be that tall because the beast inside it was at least seven.

It was the Wolfman from the poster.

He was huge! Standing on his back legs, dressed in rags, bulging muscles rippling across his body as he turned this way and that.

He was covered in thick, sleek grey hair but it was his face that was truly horrifying.

It was monstrous. Like it had been pulled from the deranged mind of a traumatised person who only knew what wolves looked like through descriptions, not paintings.

There was none of the intelligence or majesty of real wolves in that face.

That was a monster, snarling as it slammed its powerful clawed hands into the bars, rocking the cage, red drool pouring from fang that would tear people in half.

A woman appeared beside the cage, dressed like a lion tamer with a red mask but she had no whip or stool to defend herself.

Instead, she held up a large, golden key for everyone to see, slotted it into the golden padlock and released the creature.