Vengeful Creations || ONC 2021

Chapter Two

My mouth fell open with a painful pop. "You must be fucking with me," I said.

Had Gigi told this guy about my reimagined version of "Hamlet"? No. She wouldn't have done that. But what other possible explanation could there be? How could he know details about a story that only existed in my imagination and notebooks?

And had I really just dropped the F-bomb at a black tie event?

I glanced around, but no one was paying us any mind.

"How do you know about my story?" I hissed at Faux Hamlet.

"As I am the principal character, I am intimately familiar with the prose," he replied. "Beautiful alterations from that of the Bard, by the bye. Eloquent speeches, to exceedingly good sense and length. And you have bereft me of the weight of my greatest weaknesses — no small feat, as the worst of the muddle was indecision. You have reassembled my person with the metal of courage and tenacity. I am all the better for it."

"...thank you..?" I said. My mouth was still ajar. I could feel it, but not correct it.

"For the passage of nigh a year, I have balanced most precariously upon the cusp of befalling the plot of Claudius, mine abhorrent uncle," Faux Hamlet continued, as if I needed reminding. "So close am I to uttering the words that will reveal his villainy to my mother and, by troth, all of Denmark, that I can taste the confession on my tongue like so much sour wine. I beg to be released from the infinite loop of written scenes that has become my purgatory. Break the spherical curse. Write me an ending, I prithee."

Both his tone and eyes were so earnest, I felt the prickle of oncoming tears. Was he for real? I wasn't seriously considering his bizarre, delusional confession to be legitimate, was I?

"Are you sure you've only had one drink tonight?" I asked.

"One," he swore. "Singular as the sun in our noonday sky."

I felt my head bob up and down. "Hamlet will have an ending," I said, punctuating each word as if it were a separate thought. "He will be King. As is cohesive with Shakespeare's play, shortly after his crowning, Fortinbras will attack with military forces from Norway. But Claudius will be thwarted, and Hamlet will be King of Denmark."

"Fortinbras," Faux Hamlet murmured. He cast an agitated grimace at the floor. "That is most unfortunate, but not at all contrary to prediction." He returned his gaze to me and smiled ruefully. "But let it be so, as 'tis. Thou hast my body and mind as if the strings were thine to command, dear lady."

I blinked at him. What was I supposed to say to that? "Awesome?" I offered.

"No, not some awe, but much," Faux (maybe?) Hamlet corrected me.

"Right..." I said. "Listen...Hammy, I don't really have a timeline for this story's production. It's been on the back burner for so long that I honestly can't say when it will be finished."

Hamlet's mouth settled into a solemn line, and he gave me a comprehensive nod. "I know not this 'burner' of which you speak, but I am learn'ed well enough to understand that the juices of creativity flow when ready, not when summoned. The fruit may exist on the tree, but lack the will and passage of time to ripen. You need fear no impatience from me, my lady. But I find must needs to tell you that I am not the only creation into which thou hast breathed life to tread most presently upon this plane."

"Wait, what?" I cried. "What do you mean?"

Hamlet took my hand and squeezed. "O, beware, my lady, of vengeance! 'Tis the promised course of action from the creations that have thus been abandoned. They are here, good Cristina. Here, among the masses. And one above all else doth seek to do thee harm."