The Devil's Opera

God's 'Grace'

"Wait! Where are we going? Where are you taking me?" Tamara demanded, but her mysterious companion did not reply. Instead, he only continued to drag her through this strange, carnival-esque place. She wanted dearly to stop him and demand a straight answer, but at the same time, she had the feeling that he knew this place far better than she ever would. As suspicious as it was, it meant he was her only chance of escape. If trusting him for a little while was what she had to do, then so be it.

After a brisk jog past several tents, Tamara found herself being dragged into an empty plane.

"What are we doing here? Where are we?" Tamara repeated her question. Then, all of a sudden, someone grabbed Tamara's shoulder. She yelped in surprise and whipped around, jumping back again in fear when she got a look at who it was that had touched her. It was a tiny girl who looked about her age, but her face was covered in white paint, save for a red dot on the nose and mascara running down the cheeks. She had wild dark hair and wore nothing but a leotard.

"How old are you?" she slurred.

"16," Tamara replied, taking another wary step back. The clown-girl gave a laugh that sounded like a hyena.

"I had my first religious fallout when I was 13," she cackled. "Thanks to God's 'Grace', I couldn't feel or remember a thing. A month later? I was turning tricks..." she gave Tamara a horrendous smile before doing a handspring away from her and back towards her companion.

"Eew," Tamara cringed, shuddering in disgust. What had that girl even meant? Religious fallout? God's Grace? She turned towards her companion, hoping he'd have an answer, but when she turned again to find him, he had suddenly been swarmed by a bunch of other clown-freaks. Tamara gasped lightly. Where had they all come from? It was like they'd just teleported in out of thin air. One second, it had just been him and her, and now, there was at least 15 people crawling around him like dogs begging their master for a slab of meat.

"What-?" she began to ask, but her companion only raised his head, gave her a relaxed expression, and hushed her. Then, he turned back down to the clowns crawling all around his feet and he began to purr.

"Drug market, sub-market. Sometimes I wonder why I ever got in. Blood market, love market. Sometimes I wonder why they need me at all!" his face suddenly contorted into a fury as he pushed one of the clowns away, but then the anger was gone as soon as it had come and he whipped out a large bottle of alcohol from his leather jacket. Where had he been storing that?

"God's Grace comes in a shiny glass bottle!" he sang, looking over at her whilst waving the large bottle high. The clowns suddenly increased in energy, gasping in delight as the glass glittered in the dim, red light.

"A shiny glass bottle?" Tamara echoed in confusion. This was too weird. All she'd wanted was a way home!

"A shiny glass bottle!" the clowns all replied in a creepy unison, painted faces turning to look at Tamara as they said this.

"And that shiny glass bottle pours into a mug oh-so easily and then the God's Grace mug burns all down through your anatomy and when the 'Grace' kicks in, it sparks and you're ready for eternity!"

Tamara's companion continued to dance around, pulling mugs out of his coat now too and passing them out to any clown with cash. He filled up mug after mug with his shiny glass bottle and every clown who received some of that alcohol tipped the entire mug back and downed the whole thing within seconds. Tamara, herself, wasn't offered even a single drop, but she could feel it in the air that something was changing. Something psychedelic was happening. All of the clowns looked almost hypnotized as they finished off their drinks and Tamara could almost feel a sleepiness washing over the crowd.