Scarlet's Walk - Life Without Tumblr Season Two

Part Three

She hadn’t done this spell, not yet, but it needed no ingredients and sounded impressive, so it would have to do. There was a slim chance she’d get out of here without being defiled in some way. Defiled was a good word. It sounded unpleasant and uncomfortable. She wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but she was fairly certain that people who dressed in skin-tight leather and spent their days hanging out in a place called The Underworld probably did a lot of it. They stared at her, arms resting on legs as they leaned forward. Probably imagining the upcoming defilement. 

She was a performing monkey, or soon would be. And to think, she got nervous when she had to give a drama performance. Her hands shook as she lifted the spell book. This was no good, she wasn’t even going to be able to say the words properly. 

She let the book drop, looking around at the eager, greedy faces. ‘OK, which one of you did the invites for this thing? I mean, really, these outfits, have you even used a mirror?’

That was better. She was met with a chorus of hisses and sneers, but no one got up, or challenged her, and she managed a weak smile. The guy on the throne was the real deal, whatever that meant, but these others? Wannabe was pretty close to the truth she reckoned. 

She spoke the words, slowly, carefully, putting her weight behind it, just as Martin had taught her. She squeezed her eyes closed, as soon as she said the last word, and was pleased she did. She heard the gasps as light filled the room.

Holding the book up as a shield, she peered out through slitted eyelids. A ball of light, bright enough to make her eyes water, hung in the air before her. She stepped back, glancing around the room. Many of those hissing at her moments earlier were smiling and clapping. The few who had remained silent when the big man was holding court were still silent, watching her.

The big man himself was on his feet, applauding along with the rest, climbing down again from his throne. ‘Excellent, outstanding. It appears you are the entertainment after all. Not quite what I imagined, but entertaining nonetheless.’

He stepped closer and she got a whiff of him, the faintest scent of hospitals and burning rubber, hidden behind some nasty aftershave that made her nose wrinkle. He came around the light, a huge silhouette that blocked it out. She lowered the book and waited, hands on hips. 

His voice was lower, no longer meant for the others in the room. ‘Who is your father, girl?’

She raised her eyebrows, ignoring the shaking in her legs. ‘The name’s Scarlet, man… thing. And actually, who my father is is none of your business.’ OK, that was stupid, just plain, mum-level stupid. She coughed. ‘Where is Martin?’

The big man rocked back on his heels, folding his arms before him. She strained to see his expression, but the light behind still painted his face in black shadow. He chuckled, the sound climbing up her back and stroking her neck so she squirmed. ‘You have spirit. I will know who your father is, and from where you came.’

‘No you won’t. And ‘from where I came?’ Really?’

The light was fading, just enough for her to see his forehead crease, massive eyebrows meeting above his clear eyes. They stared at one another for a moment, long enough for Scarlet to realise the room had gone silent. The others might not be able to hear, but they knew something was happening. 

The shaking had become quite serious, and her palms were slippery against the cover of the book. She put it into her pocket, and put her hands back on her hips. The room was silent. This was like one of those awkward moments at a party, when she realised she didn’t have a clue what to say, or how to say it. Like all parties, then, really.