by T R Tells
In reality, she held onto the golden pole with her hand and twirled around it several times, before she wrapped her legs around it to hang upside down. Thea couldn’t hear individual noises, only distant clapping. Thea continued to climb up the base of the pole, swirling around it with her hands and legs before getting off it and slowly began to strip out of her colorful shawl and threw it out to the audience. Thea only imagined the men who would be fighting over it.
She went over to the middle of the stage, as she had practiced every day before curtain call. She turned to see one of the red-headed escort boys backstage holding the other end of the rope. Thea gave him a slight tip of her head like a cue, and he quickly began pulling the cable. She lifted her hands to her head as a red curtain came down to her. She knew that she would only have several seconds when the curtain came down.
When Thea saw the tip of the curtain hit the floor, surrounding her, she quickly slipped out her brassiere and panties, grabbing a large, satin red ribbon that was hanging from a hook and replaced the lingerie with the fabric. She quickly tied the large ribbon around her waist and private area, just as the curtain began to rise. The flowery image that had been in her mind shifted as the soft music changed to a louder, primitive, and suspenseful tone. The flowers slowly wilted and died, and the bright morning sky was shrouded in darkness. The beautiful clothing that Thea had worn were now torn and tattered.
She found herself running and her heart beat rapidly. She turned around, hearing the arguing chanting of voices, unknown to her, chasing her. The voices shifted briefly into more familiar ones and her vision flickered for a moment to show a deserted alleyway. It changed back to the stage just as quickly as it had appeared. Thea huffed and puffed as she ran through the deceased field of flowers that started to look more like a graveyard as tombstones slowly began rising from the ground and a thick gray mist began to swirl at her feet, but it didn’t stop Thea from running.
With a whirl of her arms, her hand was suddenly covered in blood and the stage was again gone. Dead bodies scattered on the ground and she heard her voice, except huskier, laughing with glee. Thea didn’t remember this happening, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened. She never learned what Hel did when she possessed her the first time because she didn’t want to know.
On stage, Thea twirled her wrists and lifted her hands, moving her bare-naked body around the stage. But in her mind, the bloody images of lives Hel had taken were flashing before her, her own body covered in the blood of the victims. The rambling of crazed men broke through Thea’s barrier and she was pulled back to the stage, out of Hel’s memories. The images slowly faded, and she was no longer in the graveyard. The horrible images flashed through her mind and the sound of cawing and desperation resonated through her ears. The music slowly came to a halt, as did Thea.
Her heart raced.
Her breathing irregular and ragged.
Her cheeks and naked body were sweaty, her entire body hot.
The tears that came from her eyes revealed how much the tundra of emotions in the music had impacted her – but no one cared to see through the cracks and pain. Thea tightened her hands into fists, feeling herself shake as she forced herself to choke down the sobs and block out the pain and misery as she always had done.
***
Donnie, or as he liked to be called, Donnell as he grew older, sat on one of the red couches alone when the lights on the stage lit up the room, making it so bright he had to blink a few times while his eyes adjusted. He’d heard the Meretrix was the best brothel in Kingsland and wanted to see it for himself.
Music played softly and a woman danced onto the stage. She moved and swayed with the tune, which was as light and beautiful as the flowery background. The dancer was painted to look like she was just another flower in the field. There was something in the way she swayed that made him unable to take his eyes off her.
As Donnell watched her fluid movements, he realized that the feelings of desire for her began to decrease. What’s wrong with me? She’s gorgeous and hypnotic, he wondered to himself. He couldn’t put his finger on the reason he no longer desired her. She was a skilled dancer and she was truly mesmerizing to watch. But as he watched her, he began to see through the mask she wore. He saw the pain that was rooted deep in her heart and soul.
As he watched, he realized there was something familiar about her. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, Donnell focused on the woman’s face trying to see her features under the paint. After a few moments, he realized where he’d seen this woman before. Eight years ago, in the Kingsland market. He’d stolen a sapphire necklace for her that she’d been admiring and had taught her how to be a boy . . . Thea, he thought. While he hadn’t thought much of the girl over the years, he had always wondered in the back of his mind what had become of her.
After the music picked up the tempo, becoming more urgent, Thea was completely nude, except for a large bow. Donnie saw her face wrinkled in pain. The other men in the crowd whooped and hollered obscenities at Thea, utterly unaware of the pain written on her face.
How do they not see how much this is hurting her? He wondered. The rage of the music reflected in her every movement, both in her dance and in her face.
As the music came to an end, Donnie realized that the sweat pouring off her face was tears. None of the other men noticed, too absorbed in their desires.
The other men applauded her performance, but Donnie couldn’t. He was disgusted that they were getting so much pleasure out of her agony. Donnie rose from the sofa he’d claimed and went in search for Thea. He had to see her.
***
The music ended and the curtains closed, separating Thea from the rowdy men. But she stayed frozen in the same position, staring blankly into space. She hadn’t meant to break down like that, although she knew no one had noticed. The moment had been far too quick for anyone to have seen, not that they would pay attention — no one ever paid her attention except for when she made their day.
How could I have broken down just like that? I trained myself to never shatter, even under pressure.
“Thea?”
Thea looked up. She stopped her tears and saw the red-haired escort stagehand. He was young, seventeen, and cute with his red curly hair; he had a dark brown complexion with several freckles adorning his face. He frowned in concern as he held out his hand for her.
Thea gave him a half-hearted grin and placed her hand on his. “I’m alright, Liam . . . just tired.” They both knew she was lying, but Liam didn’t push further. Instead, he draped a wool blanket over her naked body and escorted her off the stage.
When Thea was backstage, she first got dressed and slipped into a dark purple brassier set. She sat down on a wooden stool and looked into the mirror, seeing her reflection. On most occasions, the paint would have been flawless and wouldn’t have come off until she took it off, but today she could see several cracks adorning her cheeks and forehead as if the paint was going to chip at any moment. It wasn’t large enough to tell from a distance, but if anyone got close enough, they would see how much the paint shed away — even the blue color on her lips was chipped.
Thea felt her throat throb and she chewed on her bottom lip, tasting the dry and bitter paint on her tongue. She felt her hands gripping the sides of the table until her knuckles turned white. Thea stared at her reflection, suffocating.
A cold shiver lingered on Thea’s shoulder and traveled to the length of her spine. She didn’t need to turn around or focus on the reflection in the mirror to know that Hel was behind her, she didn’t say anything.
“To them, you will always be nothing, meaningless. And now you’re sick of it. Have I taught you nothing, Thea?”
“I-I just can’t take it anymore!” Thea snarled in reply, meeting Hel’s eyes in the mirror. “I don’t want to be an object anymore. I don’t want to spend my time having sex with whoever I’m told to.” Tears began to destroy the paint on Thea’s cheeks. “I . . . I just don’t want this meaningless existe
nce anymore.”
There’s no way out, and you know it, Thea, the motherly voice chimed in — she had grown bitter over the years.
Well, there is one way out, the mocking voice replied.
She’s too weak to take it, and you know it! She’ll always be here. There’s no escape.
“Silence!” Hel jumped in, and the other voices were cut off by the demon’s command.
“M-Maybe they’re right, Hel. Maybe I should take the only way out.”
Do it! End it all! The voices chimed in, before getting cut off by Hel. While there wasn’t a visual of the other voices, Thea could feel them cower when Hel commanded their silence.
“Don’t be foolish, Thea. I’ve told you more than once, do not show weakness. Kill the bastards, if you must, they’ll end up in the Lifeless Reach for eternity anyway.”
Thea chewed her lip, mulling over the voices’ suggestion and Hel’s counsel. She wasn’t sure who to listen to. On the one hand, she didn’t want to end it all — she couldn’t leave Kadda and Maggie. But they would have each other if nothing else. Thea was just so tired of it all. Maybe Kadda and Maggie would be better off without me, Thea thought.
She opened a drawer in the vanity she sat at and pulled out her dagger. She had to store it there when she was on stage, there weren’t many places to hide it while nude. Even in the dark lighting backstage, it still glittered. The shine was alluring, she could almost feel the blade calling her. Without thinking, she held out her wrist, and began moving the dagger toward it; the voices were cheering for her to do it, while Hel chastised her to stop. She felt Hel trying to take over her body again, but somehow, she managed to keep control. The dagger’s tip pierced her olive flesh, a little droplet of blood welling up instantly. She started to apply pressure-
“Thea?” A man’s voice broke Thea out of her trance.
Thea shook her head and blinked a few times before she could turn to look at the source of the voice. Hel smiled at the diversion before fading from the mirror. Standing before her was a man who seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. He was fairly tall, with a lean frame and was in clothes that were just a hair nicer than most of the men who came to the Meretrix. Worn loose with some of it covering his eyes, his hair was medium length and a darker brown. He sported a small beard that was trimmed, there were some faint scars on his face. He unconsciously pushed some of the hair out of his eyes as Thea took in his jade green eyes. She had an inkling that she knew him from somewhere.
“Donnie? Is that you?” She set down the dagger and rose to greet him. “Your eyes . . . What happened to them?”
“Yeah, It’s me. Puberty, as you can see, not that skinny boy you saw in the marketplace all those years ago.” He grinned and tilted his head to the side. “It also seems like you’re not trying to be a boy anymore,” Donnie joked.
He was worried about what he’d just interrupted and felt the need to distract her. Even though he’d only spent an hour with her eight years ago, something about her made him want to protect her, save her.
Thea waved a hand over her half-naked body and arched an eyebrow at him. “Well, obviously.”
“Bet you forgot my lessons after you stopped being Theo,” he teased, almost desperate to see a smile grace her lips, if even for a moment.
The corners of Thea’s lips twitched, and she jutted her hip out and placed a hand on it. “Give me a little credit, Donnie. Your spitting lessons are still a handy tool.”
“And the walk?”
“Well, I can’t do much without that either,” Thea said with a laugh and moved to embrace him in a brief hug. “But enough about me, what have you been up to?”
“I’ve just been shooting craps in taverns, getting into random fights at the taverns - sometimes about craps. I mostly drink, gamble, and fight.” He touched a more prominent scar on his cheek, “I got this beauty after flirting with the wrong woman. It turned out she was married, and her husband didn’t take too kindly to me turning my charms on her. Bastard almost gutted me. I was lucky to walk away with only this as a souvenir.”
“Guess you’re not much of a lady’s man,” Thea teased, running her finger over the scar. “Been spending much time in the castle these days?”
Donnie snorted. “That’s mostly Angeal’s territory. My father would spit at me if I went anywhere near the royal sleeping quarters. I mainly sleep in the guest house or Middilgard’s Inn.” He noticed at the mention of his father; Thea’s nose wrinkled in disgust.
Angeal, Thea searched internally for the name. The blonde boy from the day I met the king. “How is Angeal doing?”
“He’s a much better man than our father, that’s for sure,” Donnie answered with a shrug.
Thea chuckled, “Anyone is a better man than him . . . Except for maybe Flint.”
“Flint?” Donnie tilted his head in curiosity.
“The bastard who owns this lovely establishment,” Thea said, sweeping her hand across the room, leaving a trail of blood droplets. Donnie’s presence had made her forget the small wound she’d given herself.
“I saw you dance,” Donnie started, choosing his words carefully. “You’re mesmerizing on stage. But . . . I could see the pain in your eyes, your face as you swayed.” He took her hand. “Thea, what’s going on? You know you can tell me anything.”
Thea averted her eyes and nibbled on her bottom lip. “I . . . um . . .”
“Thea?”
Thea flinched and jumped, turning around quickly to see Freya giving her an odd look.
“Hope I’m not disturbin—” Freya stopped, seeing the blood run from Thea’s wrist, where she had nicked herself. She stomped up to Donnie, getting right in his face. “What the hell did you do to her?” Freya shouted.
Thea was mildly amused to see Donnie back up as Freya reached him. Freya was much shorter than Donnie, so she was more so yelling at his chest rather than his face.
“Whoa, I didn’t do anyth—” Donnie started.
“I’m fine Freya,” Thea interrupted, knowing Freya would never believe him. “I was just polishing my dagger and my hand slipped,” Thea lied quickly. Thea grabbed a rag and dunked it into a bowl filled with water that was on the vanity beside her and began to clean her arm.
Freya just stared at Thea.
“Oh . . . Well, if that’s all, I guess,” Freya said eyeing Donnie suspiciously. “There’s a gentleman caller that’s asking for you. He seems handsome. I know he isn’t from around here like there’s something mystical about him.”
Thea looked at Freya quirked an eyebrow. Mystical? “Alright, thanks, Freya. Just let him know I’ll be with him in a few. I need to clean up.” She turned to Donnie, “I’ll see you around?”
“You can count on it,” Donnie replied with a nod, turning to leave.
Donnie paused to take one last look at Thea, who had begun cleaning the paint from her face. He sighed, watching her for a moment - partially to see if she’d pick up the dagger and finish what he’d interrupted. Donnie would never have thought that the girl he’d met all those years ago, who’d had the gall to stand up to his father, would break like that. He decided that there was something terrible happening at this brothel, owned by a man just as evil as his father, and it had been slowly crushing the girl he once knew. Donnie worried about Thea’s predicament.
***
“So, are you my gentleman caller?”
When Thea had composed herself, tended to her wound, and removed the chipped paint from her face, she was told to go to one of the booths. There, a finely dressed man sat with his legs crossed. When he turned to her, she saw him smile, but something in his face made her skin crawl. He was handsome and enigmatic, a Mage. Thea wondered to herself why a Mage would dare step foot into Kingsland.
“I am, and might I say, you danced lovely on stage. It was a bit morbid near the end, but you certainly have talent, especially for a Roma.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly. Usually, when she felt uncomfortable around me
n, she would use her Intuition magic. But for some reason, it wasn’t working on him at all. That worried Thea, and Hel instantly went on alert. Thea felt her demon trying to nudge her to kill this man, and the voices agreed.
“Ah, so the rumors are true. You can use your Intuition to block me out perfectly, but you have to work better at hiding the magic when it changes your eye color.”
Curious, Thea’s eye color returned to their natural hue and she frowned at the man, crossing her arms over her chest. This is no ordinary Mage.
“How do you know about my Intuition magic?”
“Why don’t you have a seat? It’s more inconspicuous that way.” The man tapped his lap, and Thea complied, not in annoyance as she usually did. But if the man held an ounce of truth, he might know more about her Roma heritage.
Thea straddled him, resting each knee on either side of the sofa. Thea expected him to harden the moment she sat down on his lap, but she didn’t feel anything poking at her, which made her believe that either the man had a muscular endurance, or he truly wished to tell her more about her lineage. She placed her arms around the man’s neck and examined his features. His face was sculpted to perfection; his nose relatively small, had a dent in the middle of the bridge, and a protruding tip. His lips were mature and rounded they looked as if they were crafted to kiss. His hair and eyes were the only things that were off with him.
The man chuckled, clearly amused by something. Thea was about to ask him what was so funny when he spoke. “While it is very flattering you find me gorgeous, why don’t we get to business first?” Thea felt her cheeks burn, knowing that she was blushing. “And if you agree, we can see where this takes us.”
His grip on Thea’s waist made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She looked down and saw his arms linked around her waist, reminded that even if he wasn’t the typical male, he was still like everyone else.
