The Giggler Learns to Dance - Shortlisted - Open Novella Contest 2020

Chapter Three - The Mance

Chapter Three

The Mance

The darkness lasted for several moments before an opaline orb of light appeared before Alice's eyes. It had an iridescent quality and seemed to shimmer at the edges. The light bobbed before her like a miniature moon. Still collapsed on the ground, Alice rubbed her eyes and peered over her shoulder.

"Giggler?" She whispered, unsure both if the man was still nearby and if the evening's events had really happened. She hoped it had been real. Though he was a stranger with an intangible healing gift, Alice didn't want to be alone right now, not when night was closing in fast.

She heard a groan in response and she spied the Giggler dragging himself to his knees, wincing as he moved. His white eyes found hers for a moment, before shifting to the light before them. As he took in the light, Alice saw the eerie glow reflected in his own prismatic eyes.

The Giggler shuffled to his feet and held out a hand to her, his eyes still trained on the light. She took his soft hand in hers and pulled herself to her feet, surprised at the man's strength, despite his near-crippled posture.

A warmth was beginning in her chest the longer she looked at the light. Unconsciously, she took a step forward. The Giggler moved in time with her, seemingly oblivious to the icy puddles under his bare feet. Yet with each step forward, the light seemed to move backward.

"It's guiding us," Alice mused, surprisingly unsurprised by this thought. She wanted to follow it, she had to. It seemed to be the only natural course of action left to her.

They walked, following the light, all the way back towards town. Alice did not glance sideways as they passed her house. If she had, she would have noticed that her father was still not home and that their fake pumpkin lay in smithereens on the porch.

None of the street lamps lit up the street, yet still they walked.

It was only when the Giggler and Alice were about to approach the town Square, the spot of the usual thoroughfare of markets, music and shopping, that the warmth in her chest began to fade and leave behind an icy coldness. Alice blinked, clearing her vision, horror reentering her mind.

This fear magnified when she looked around and saw children and teenagers walking alongside her, filing into the square. Trick-or-treating bags and props from costumes lay abandoned and no one spoke as they seemed to be following something that Alice could not see.

When she looked directly ahead of her, she saw that the light had vanished and the Giggler seemed to be panicking, his eyes wide and his breathing harsh and rapid.

Alice spun on the spot, scanning the crowd. Not a single adult in sight, if she didn't count the Giggler. Slowly, everyone seemed to be emerging from their hidden minds, shock and anxiety filled their faces. Small children began to cry and whimper, calling out for their parents, siblings and neighbours soothed them before they themselves began to panic.

Then, the music began.

Alice gripped the Giggler's hand in solidarity, as though he were a lifeboat out of this horrific situation. Joyful music erupted from a white marble bandstand at the centre of the Square that Alice could have sworn that hadn't been there mere moments ago.

Atop the stand, a soft sophomoric beat began to carry across the Square. It was jazz music, not unlike the kind Alice's father played around the house sometimes, speaking of the good old days that he had been too young to experience himself. Yet there was something tinny and scratching about this peppy beat that had her grinding her teeth in fear of what was to come.