The Venue

by T J Payne

  Amy and Mariko both looked up. What the hell was this?

  ***

  Caleb sat on the balcony. He held Lilith’s hand in his.

  He had made a point of sitting to her left so that he could see the char marks from where the explosion had burned the skin from her face. He would never turn away from her. Nothing about her could ever be seen as “ugly” by him.

  Even with her injuries, she was as beautiful as ever.

  She needed to know that. To always know that.

  She said she couldn’t see out of her left eye anymore. The explosion had also blown out a few of Lilith’s teeth and sent them down her throat. Luckily, she said she didn’t need the left side of her mouth to chew and she didn’t need her left eye to aim.

  After she had cut him free from the altar, they had gone back to their room to quickly disinfect her burns and take a few painkillers. She was lucky that her face barely bled; the blast had fused most of her wounds closed. It must have hurt though, Caleb thought. But he knew his wife was tough.

  Lilith didn’t want the painkillers to make her too drowsy (there was so much wedding left to enjoy), and so she balanced them out with a few lines of cocaine.

  Caleb had also been feeling a little down and lethargic, so he snorted some too. He assumed it was high quality cocaine, as everything at The Venue was the finest. He felt much better now, like he could enjoy himself again.

  And so, they had stepped out of their room and back onto the balcony.

  It amazed Caleb how Lilith refused to let her injuries slow her. She stood on the balcony and shouted out to the empty room, “We’re doing toasts now! Does anyone have anything nice to say about us?”

  He wondered if she wanted to make this offer to an empty room. The DJ looked like he intended to make a Venue-wide announcement, but Lilith shot him a glare that made him put down his mic.

  In the silence that followed, Caleb stared out over the ballroom. A few new bodies had been added to the collection. He recognized the forms of his mom and dad, slouched in their seats. Apparently, instead of fighting or offering up their lives as a sacrifice to their friends and family, his parents had eaten the cake.

  Typical. Cowards.

  They had, of course, lived down to his expectations, as they always did.

  “Anyone?” Lilith called out. “Last chance.”

  As Caleb took his seat, he heard the screeching of a chair moving across the tiled floor below. Lilith’s cousin Chelsea, who was about the same age as Lilith, crawled out from beneath one of the tables.

  With her arms hugging herself, and her body angled away from the balcony (probably to make herself as small of a target as possible), Chelsea stood. Even from the distance, Caleb could see the woman’s lip quiver. She was terrified.

  Chelsea slowly raised her hand. She was volunteering herself.

  Lilith gazed down at her with a look of confusion. For the first time, Caleb saw that his bride was speechless. Maybe it was just that her face hurt too much to speak. That was probably it.

  In any case, Lilith pointed toward the microphone on the stage.

  With slow steps, Chelsea made her way through the fallen chairs and dead bodies.

  Caleb didn’t really know Chelsea. Lilith hadn’t bothered to introduce him around to the family. During the wedding, Chelsea just smiled, shook his hand, and offered some bland platitudes.

  He had nothing against her, though.

  Chelsea seemed sweet, although Caleb tended to believe that humans used sweet faces and smiles to hide their venom sacs. That was where humans differed from other animals. Snakes and spiders at least looked like snakes and spiders. Their coloring declared to the world that they carried poison, and so, no one could be surprised when their bites proved toxic.

  Humans were different.

  Humans were worse.

  Humans were the only species that Caleb could think of whose survival instincts required them to give the appearance of being nice. Non-threatening. Non-toxic. Humans were kind to your face. They wanted you to trust them, to believe they were harmless and good. And then, when the smile and pleasantries finished disarming their prey, humans would sink their poisonous fangs into the backs of their unsuspecting “friends.”

  No other species behaved like that. Not rats, not dogs, not even a scorpion. At least, that’s what Caleb believed. Lilith believed it too, he was sure.

  And so, he sat and waited to hear what Chelsea had to say for herself.

  Lilith set her bow and arrow beside her. Caleb did likewise. A small table had been set up near them with two flutes of champagne and an open bottle. He picked up a flute and was surprised to find it to be chilled. He didn’t know when The Venue staff had set it out. They were good. Real good.

  He lifted his glass as he stared down from the balcony toward the stage.

  Chelsea picked up her own flute of champagne from a table near the steps of the stage. She then climbed up and stood at the microphone.

  “Hello… m-m-my name is Chelsea. Lilith and I are cousins,” she began. “We used to… used to… spend summers together. Lilith and me.”

  Chelsea shook so badly that the champagne spilled out of her glass. Her body remained tight as if in a perpetual wince. Due to the distance, Caleb wasn’t sure but thought he saw tears reflecting off her cheeks.

  “As a child, Lilith was… she was very smart. So smart,” Chelsea continued. “When we were kids, Lilith would go into the woods and set traps… the most ingenious traps… for the raccoons. And squirrels. And any animal.”

  Caleb leaned forward. He hadn’t heard this story. And stories about the love of his life, especially her as a child, made him happy.

  “She spent a week building this… this big thing. It had pulleys and ropes and nails and a pit. It was so complicated. And it wouldn’t just trap the animals. It would, um, it would tear…” she trailed off without completing the thought. “You had to see it. She was so smart. She is so smart.”

  Chelsea took a deep breath and chanced a glance up at Lilith.

  Caleb wanted to gaze at her as well. He wanted to see Lilith’s reaction. But he thought that might ruin the moment and so he reached out and grasped Lilith’s hand instead.

  “I… I didn’t want to build the traps,” Chelsea continued. “I wanted to hang out with my friends. But my parents made me play with Lilith. All summer. I… I yelled at Lilith. I told her she wasted my summer. I called her a loser. I made fun of her for having no friends. I called her stupid. I was the stupid one. Lilith was the smart one. Lilith is the smart one. She is amazing. And beautiful. And… and I don’t deserve her as a cousin. Or as a friend. I am so, so sorry that I didn’t appreciate you.”

  Finally, Caleb glanced over at his bride.

  Lilith moved her hand to clutch her heart as she smiled down at Chelsea. He wasn’t quite sure if Lilith was genuinely touched or if this was a misdirect. With Lilith, you could never be sure. And that was why he loved her.

  Chelsea raised her glass. Champagne sloshed around and splashed onto the floor as it shook. “T-t-to Lilith and Caleb. May… may their marriage be everything they want and more.”

  Caleb lifted his glass and tapped it with Lilith’s.

  “Thank you, Chelsea,” Lilith said after letting the silence sit for a moment. “That was very sweet. I love you and I forgive you.”

  She motioned toward the “Staff Only” door to the side of the stage. It swung open.

  “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Chelsea said. She dropped her glass and sprinted toward the door. She ran through and it slammed shut behind her.

  “Let’s hear it for the bride’s cousin, Chelsea!” the DJ announced. “Do any other guests have something they want to say to our lovely couple?”

  Another chair toppled over. A person scrambled out from under a table. A moment later, Tristan, one of Caleb’s former co-workers at the firm, ran up to the microphone.

  “Caleb is totally the smartest guy I’ve ever known,” Tristan
started. He then turned around and rushed back to the steps to grab a champagne flute. He returned to the mic and held his drink aloft. “He’s super cool. And really funny. And great. And really awesome. Just a, just a cool, cool guy.”

  Caleb let out a soft groan.

  “Ugh. So disingenuous,” Lilith said.

  Caleb nodded.

  “Allow me, sweetie.” Lilith picked up her bow.

  ***

  Amy listened as Tristan’s toast was broadcast through the speakers.

  “I really wish I was as cool as Cale—”

  She heard the whistle of the arrow as it flew down and thudded into him. He dropped the microphone, sending a loud thunk through the speakers. The next sounds were of him gurgling and choking out his final breath.

  Two more arrows thudded into him until there was silence.

  “Let’s hear it for Tristan!” the DJ announced.

  A smattering of applause came through the speakers. Amy could only assume it was the clapping of the only audience members who mattered — Caleb and Lilith.

  “We’re nearing the end of this magical night,” the DJ said over the speaker. “It’s now time for the bouquet toss. But here’s a little wrinkle. Whichever lucky girl catches the bouquet won’t just be the next girl to get married. She’ll be the next girl to get to live! So, come on down, girls. Let’s fill the dance floor with all the single ladies!”

  Mariko looked over at Amy. “Go.”

  “What?”

  “If you won’t kill me, then at least catch the damn bouquet.”

  “No. I—”

  “Amy, I want you to leave.”

  “But you’ll—”

  “Leave. Now.” Mariko leaned forward. With her good hand, she reached out and grasped the back of Amy’s head, forcing Amy to look her in the face. Mariko’s grip was surprisingly strong and Amy couldn’t help but look into her eyes.

  “I wanted to spend my life with you,” Mariko said. “But I never wanted to hold you back. I never wanted to be something you regretted. Some dead weight that tied you down. I wanted to live with you, but I never wanted to fucking die with you. So, go. Catch the bouquet. And give yourself a chance, at least.”

  They looked at each other for a long quiet moment.

  “I mean, if you can,” Mariko said, letting her smile break the tension. “Your hand-eye coordination sucks balls.”

  “If I get out, I’ll bring the cops,” Amy said. Although, she knew better. She didn’t know what would happen on the other side of the staff doors, but she was certain that whatever the European equivalent of dialing 9-1-1 was wouldn’t be an option.

  If Caleb and Lilith were to be believed, Amy wouldn’t remember any of this night. She wouldn’t remember her final moments with Mariko. Or with her parents.

  Mariko seemed to understand, though. Mariko always understood. Her eyes narrowed and she nodded her head in complete seriousness, letting Amy’s promise of retribution be the rationale for her leaving. “Fuck yeah, you will. Get out and then burn this place to the mother-fucking ground,” Mariko said.

  “I’ll… I’ll try.”

  The DJ’s voice came back over the speaker. “Close your eyes, Lilith. Caleb, spin your lovely bride around. Get her nice and dizzy.”

  There wasn’t much time. If Amy wanted a chance at the bouquet, she had to hurry.

  “Go get it,” Mariko said with a grin.

  “I…” Amy didn’t have any words.

  “Later, roomie,” Mariko said.

  There were many things Amy wanted to say, but all that came out was, “Later, Mariko.”

  “Now, hurry your ass up.”

  With that, Amy stood and climbed over the desk.

  CHAPTER 24

  Amy didn’t look back as she ran through the front lobby and past the grand staircase. She thought she heard the sound of shoes clanking on the stone steps, but she refused to check.

  She sprinted through the foyer.

  The doors to the ballroom had been propped open, allowing her to peek inside.

  The disco ball splashed light around the otherwise deserted ballroom. From her spot, she could only see the underside of the balcony. She couldn’t see Caleb or Lilith, but she could hear their feet on the metal platform as Caleb spun Lilith around.

  Amy scurried into the ballroom and crouched behind the cake table.

  And then she waited.

  “Let’s all count together now!” the DJ said. “Three… two… one… Toss!”

  The bouquet sailed over the railing of the balcony.

  It hung in the air a moment, as though it was refusing to participate with the massacre below. In that instant, it looked like, perhaps, the bouquet would remain in the air, out of reach, forever. Gravity itself had deprived Amy of her chance.

  But then, the bouquet reached the peak of its trajectory.

  With a delicate, graceful spin, it twirled its way earthward. Its momentum seemingly slowed at the last instant so that it could float down gently to the center of the floor.

  And there it rested.

  Perhaps thirty feet separated Amy from that bundle of petals and stems.

  It was as good as hers.

  She balanced herself on the balls of her feet and plotted her course through the tables. She didn’t want to make noise. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself. She just wanted to get there with as much cover as possible in case Lilith started shooting. And then get out.

  She decided that she would scurry to Table Two, and then she’d…

  The sound of clomping feet made her head pivot up. A woman, still wearing heels and an elegant black dress, raced in from the bathroom entrance.

  A table suddenly tipped over. Another woman had evidentially been hiding there the whole time, waiting for her moment. More tables and chairs shifted. More women leapt from the safety of their hiding places. More competition ran in through the doors.

  Amy didn’t have time to count the women, but they seemed to be materializing from all sides of the ballroom. In a mad dash, they all converged on the bouquet in the center.

  It was now or never.

  Amy sprang from her hiding place behind the cake and raced forward. She swerved around a table, jumped over a body, and ran.

  One of Lilith’s sorority friends veered in front of Amy, cutting her off and taking the inside track to the bouquet. Without even thinking, Amy reached over, grabbed the woman by the shoulder and pushed her to the side. The small bit of force was enough to knock her competition off balance and send her smacking into a chair.

  Amy reached the bouquet just as Mrs. Crawford did. The elderly third grade teacher must have been hiding beneath one of the nearby tables and had only now scrambled out to claim her prize. Amy didn’t look her in the eye — she couldn’t bear to — as she bent down and snatched it out of her teacher’s grasp.

  Something had come over Amy. Something she couldn’t explain. All of her impulses and responding muscle movements were singularly focused on the task of getting the bouquet and getting out of there. The world outside of her immediate goal fell away.

  Only survival mattered now.

  The scrambling scuffle of feet racing toward her filled her ears. A dozen, maybe more, frantic women charged forward. None of them slowed at the recognition that Amy had already claimed the prize.

  As she looked at their twisted faces, she saw their eyes focused solely on the bouquet.

  They wanted it, no matter the cost.

  She recognized that her own face probably contained the same intensity.

  At that moment, the bouquet was life.

  And life was blood sport.

  “Claim your prize at the door by the stage,” the DJ announced.

  As Amy turned to run to the exit, a spiked club filled her view.

  She ducked, letting the club pass over the top of her head. The woman who swung it lost her balance. Amy gave her a firm shove and sent her tumbling to the floor.

  One of the sorority sisters slash
ed at Amy with a large knife.

  Amy dodged to the side and, in a fluid motion, she picked a dinner plate off a nearby table and threw it at the girl’s face. It smashed into the side of her head, sending her toppling to the ground.

  By now, more people were racing in from all sides.

  Amy spun around and ran toward the exit.

  She heard the screams of the horde chasing her.

  The door was only ten feet away. Nothing stood between Amy and—

  WHAM!

  With a jolting hit, Amy felt herself flying through the air. All her joints seemed to separate before the elasticity of her cartilage snapped them back into place.

  She fell for what seemed like several seconds, but she traveled only a foot or two. She realized that someone had body-checked her so hard that she had left her feet. Her eyes took in a view of a crystal chandelier before everything went white.

  But the whiteness wasn’t from a concussion or loss of vision.

  It was from frosting.

  An explosion of white cream that gave way to the red velvet chunks underneath.

  Amy had been slammed into the three-tiered wedding cake.

  She shut her eyes and held her breath, desperate not to let any of the poisonous glaze into her system. She wiped the frosting from her face then looked around.

  The bouquet lay just a foot in front of her.

  But a man — the man who had just bowled Amy over — bent down and scooped it up.

  It was Father Dave, the priest.

  He didn’t even look at Amy as he took his prize and began to run toward the open door. But as he took a step, an arrow whistled down from the balcony and plunged into his back. He stumbled forward a step or two and then fell to his knees.

  Amy looked up. On the balcony, Lilith still wore her blindfold as she shot arrows randomly down into the crowd.

  Amy tried to stand. Her feet slid on the frosting like a car on ice. Over and over again, she dug her toes down for traction. Like running in a dream, every motion, every kick, moved her only a fraction of what it normally would.

  But she kept fighting.

  Finally, her feet carved their way to the tiniest bit of grip beneath the slick frosting and she pushed off and ran forward.