Rabbit Blood

Chapter 14 - Dancing With The Devil

A woman of great power and influence attended the Hazbin Hotel this Tuesday night. She was searching for her friend, an old friend who had to be there.

She did not appreciate the renovations. She could not even recognize them, but the crowd itself was a flurry of different colors, bright and dark. There was some truth to the song: inside of every demon was a rainbow, and this overlord had the nose for them.

How long had it been? A couple of months at least, since her last fruitless visit. Her favorite would be here. He loved events like this. Any excuse to put on the Ritz and look down on his inferiors! If only she had more to go on. The rounded tip of her parasol rolled across the floor, left to right, right to left. This room was stripped to the bones in her eyes, and the empty spaces were packed with near-identical auras. She needed more - something of his - to locate the magnificent stag she was hunting.

Finally giving up, the woman retreated, as a mess of brown and orange ascended a raised platform to her left. Another time, perhaps, another day, but soon. He could not escape her forever.

o - o - o - o - o

Leslie suffered from mild stage fright.

It was easy to dance in front of students, because they were there to learn: they trusted her as their mentor. Dancing before the indifferent eye of a camera lens was also fine. But coming onstage did something to her; her knees wobbled as she climbed the wooden steps, and her chest felt flushed. Luckily her fur would conceal the latter. The colored stage lights kept the audience in relative obscurity. Well, not all of them - off to the side, there were two telltale beams of red which she tried to ignore.

Would they boo her for not doing as well as Angel? Those were some big shoes to fill, both figuratively and literally.

Leslie gave the thumbs up, the signal for the crew to start her song. For a horrible moment, she imagined Fleur de Lille coming on instead, but it didn't. She'd picked a song she personally enjoyed: a minor-key, slightly explosive electronic rock/dubstep kind of tune that Alastor would absolutely hate. As it faded in, she curled into position, crouching close to the floor. This dance would show what she could do alone, and she could lose herself to the music, if only for a short while.

Sometimes I don't know where we're going

Sometimes I feel you should be crawling back to me

Leslie spiraled, tightly controlled, demonstrating her strength, the geometry she'd spent weeks crafting, years prior. It was all there in her muscles.

Time is ticking by without us knowing

Before you know it, it will be too late to see

Only the music. She ignored his eyes, still flaring like the deadlights of a horrifying cryptid. As the dance continued, she used her signature contrariness, working against the pull of gravity, stopping short when her body wanted to fly. Ugly dancing. He would hate it. Good. Let him hate it.

You keep on talking but it makes no sense at all

You try to fake it, but you're breaking every rule

She pivoted, then gasped in fright. Leslie stopped with her back to the audience. Something was standing there.

Right from the start you always made me feel a fool

The stage lights should have killed every shadow but hers. This one was made of something stronger: a tall, humanoid silhouette with a long face and spidery fingers. It deftly stepped into a familiar dance, exceedingly light on its feet - his feet - as though the whole body hung from marionette strings around the shoulders.