Semblance

by Logan Patricks

  “You’re insane,” Shadow said.

  Sinister turned to our direction and stared at us with dark eyes.

  “You’re one to talk Shadow. We’re all a little insane in the end, don’t you think?” he asked. “Now I’ll ask again, who wants to play the game? It’s the only way to save any of them.”

  “What if we say no?” Shadow spat.

  Sinister sighed as he pulled out a gun from his cloak. Before any of us could protest, he pointed the gun at Donald Huff’s chest and pulled the trigger.

  It was hard to tell what came first, the explosive sound of gunfire or Donald’s body going limp.

  I was too stunned to make a sound, but James and Brevin weren’t. Their eyes were wide open—screaming—as they moved frantically in their seats, horrified by the death of their friend.

  “Oh Christ,” Lincoln said as he dropped to his knees in disbelief.

  “I’ve always been intolerant of indecisiveness,” Sinister said. “A lack of patience is a flaw of mine. Now, I ask again, who’s ready to gamble?”

  “I’ll do it,” Lincoln said, rising to his feet.

  “Have a seat,” Sinister instructed. Two demon-faced men strolled up behind Lincoln and gripped his arms like a prisoner, forcing him to sit in the empty seat at the table where the pistols rested atop of it. One of the demon men removed a pistol, leaving three guns at the table for the three men.

  I feared what came next.

  Lincoln looked the other two in the eyes.

  “We’ll die with dignity,” Lincoln said.

  Brevin looked at him, tears streaming down his dark skinned cheeks. Eventually he nodded in agreement.

  “The game is very simple,” Sinister said. “I’m fascinated by high stake games of chance. I enjoy the mystique and magic behind the aspect of luck, which is why I’ve chosen for the three of you to play the romantic game of Russian roulette.”

  “Lincoln, don’t!” Shadow cried out upon revelation of what Sinister had planned. “Don’t do this. Let me play instead.”

  Lincoln turned to us and smiled sadly. “Forget it Shadow,” he said. “Lady Luck never liked you much. Let me play with that bitch tonight.”

  “Don’t play this game,” Shadow stated. “You take Aria and walk on out of here. I’ll play for all of us.” It was clear to me how much Shadow valued his friend’s life.

  “They won’t let us leave Shadow,” Lincoln said, turning to Sinister. “He’s here to watch us burn.”

  “If Lincoln wins the game, you’ll let him go?” Shadow asked.

  “Only if he wins the game,” Sinister replied. “I swear on the souls of my mother and father, whoever survives shall leave this place a free man.”

  “Enough talk, let’s play then,” Lincoln said. He turned to both Brevin and James. “I’m sorry guys, but this is all I can offer you—a chance to live by killing me.”

  Both James and Brevin seemed to acknowledge Lincoln’s words. Their lives were now in the hands of fate.

  “There’s a single bullet in each of the guns. The three of you will unlock the chamber, spin it, and lock it again,” Sinister explained. “You will then point the gun to the person on your left and pull the trigger every time the gong is struck. Only when someone dies does this round end.”

  Knife in hand, one of the demon-faced men cut the straps that bound the hands of James and Brevin.

  Anxiety filled my gut as I watched each of the three men reach for the pistols in front of them. I turned to Shadow to see if his nerves were as rattled as mine, but his face had become expressionless. His eyes however—those eyes of his had been touched by flames, watching the game unfold as if he were watching the world burn.

  “Spin,” Sinister ordered.

  Lincoln opened up the chamber of the gun and stared at the single bullet inside the barrel.

  “Spin,” Sinister repeated.

  The three did as they were told, rolling the palms of their hands across the cylinders of their guns, sending the single bullet twirling in a vortex of deadly chance.

  “Load,” Sinister instructed. I closed my eyes and heard the clicking of three guns and I took a deep breath. I was ashamed to say it, but I prayed that James and Brevin—two innocent men—would die. I wanted Lincoln to walk away from this.

  “Aim.”

  My eyes remained closed. I already watched Donald die. I had no desire to see it happen to another person.

  “Pull at the sound of each gong,” Sinister ordered.

  There was a moment of lingering silence. I heard the beating of my heart which echoed like war drums.

  And then the sound of the gong cut through the silence and reverberated throughout the room.

  Click.

  The gong struck again.

  Click.

  It wasn’t until after the third strike that the sound of gunfire erupted, followed by a loud groan.

  I opened my eyes just in time to see Brevin slump over in his chair and fall to the floor. The tip of Lincoln’s gun was smoking.

  “I’m sorry Brevin,” Lincoln was near hysterical. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I never liked Brevin,” Sinister said. “Some say it’s unethical to sell drugs, weapons, and sex, but honestly is selling false faith any more ethical?”

  “Don’t speak like you knew him,” Shadow said. “Don’t speak like you know any of us.”

  “Oh but I do,” Sinister said. “Since the day I killed your mommy and daddy, I’ve watched you and your sister grow, waiting for the perfect day to introduce myself into your life. Tonight’s games took almost over a decade of planning Shadow, and all for you. It’s all for you.”

  There was a moment of tense silence before Shadow spoke.

  “I’ll bury you.”

  “Maybe you will, but wouldn’t it be romantic if I dragged you down into the grave with me? We’d be locked in an embrace for all of eternity; dance partners in hell,” Sinister laughed. “But enough with my dirty little fantasy. There’s still one more round of this game to be played.”

  Sinister walked over to Lincoln and handed him another bullet. “One more to go,” he said.

  Lincoln loaded the bullet into his gun, his hateful stare never straying from Sinister. I could tell Lincoln wanted to use that single bullet on the bastard, but it’d only serve to get everyone killed.

  He spun the chamber of the gun and snapped it shut, taking a deep breath after.

  James did the same.

  The second round of this perverse game had begun.

  “Aim.”

  That was my cue to turn away.

  This time there was only one chime of the gong as the deafening blast from the pistol immediately followed.

  I watched as Lincoln dropped to his knees, tossing the gun aside. He buried his hands in his face and unleashed a horrific scream.

  Meanwhile James’s head hung over the back of his chair, his limbs dangling loosely by his side. Blood dripped down from the side of his temple and gathered into a red puddle on the ground.

  Shadow made his way towards Lincoln, ignoring the demon faces, whom had their guns aimed directly at him.

  “Lincoln,” Shadow said, “We’ll bury these fuckers. Every last one of them.”

  “Fuck, I killed them,” I heard Lincoln sobbing.

  Shadow pressed Lincoln’s head into his shoulder.

  “You didn’t kill anybody,” Shadow said. “Remember those words; you killed no one tonight.”

  Shadow glared in Sinister’s direction, whose eyes danced with amusement beneath his shrouded visage.

  I felt sorry for Lincoln. It was hard to imagine that he was the same man who bled confidence and boyish charm. He was now reduced to a husk of pity and self-loathing. Did Lincoln actually win in the end?

  Shadow lifted his friend gently to his feet.

  “Remember this man,” Shadow said, his long finger directed at Sinister. “He’s the one you hate. Together, we’ll fuck him over.”

  Lincoln sat himself down in th
e chair, took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

  “Congratulations Lincoln,” Sinister said. “I honor my word. You may leave this place with the stains of their blood on your soul.”

  When Lincoln opened his eyes again, all the pity and self-loathing were gone. Instead there was pure animosity, as if his heart and soul had suddenly transformed into something dark and frightening.

  “I’m not going anywhere until we all leave together,” Lincoln stated, “You, me, Aria, her friend, and Calisto.”

  Shadow shook his head. “I’ll finish this. Go while you still can.”

  Lincoln refused. “I’m not finished here.”

  Shadow gestured towards the dead council members. “I need you to make sure their families are okay.”

  Lincoln thought about it for a moment and finally agreed.

  Shadow turned to Sinister. “As for Aria, let her leave with Lincoln.”

  “What? No!” I protested. “I want to stay. I need to stay.”

  “Let her go,” Shadow repeated. “It’s the Tremaine family you want in the end, is it not?”

  “She is free to go on her own accord,” Sinister said. “However should she leave the premise without playing the game, then her friend will burn.”

  “I’m staying,” I cried. “I need to save him.”

  Shadow gripped me by the shoulders. “Aria, you may die. These fucking games are rigged.”

  “That’s my decision then,” I said. “If I let Justin die without even trying to save him, then the life I have is not one that I’ll want.”

  “Does he mean that much to you?” Shadow asked.

  I nodded.

  Shadow’s shoulders slumped and he gave in. “Then I won’t stop you.”

  “Have a little faith Shadow,” Sinister said. “I assure you that the next game, Ms. Valencia has the capabilities of winning with the skill set she has.”

  “What will you have her do?” Shadow asked, taking a step between the cloaked man and myself, acting as a human shield.

  “Come with me,” Sinister instructed, “And we’ll see how well the Golden Virgin performs under a baptism of fire.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  With guns pressed behind our backs, Shadow and I were led to the auditorium of the casino.

  “I understand you dream of performing,” Sinister said to me. “And it so happens that I adore classical music. I’d be honored if you’d play for me.”

  At the center of the stage, lit by a spotlight, was a majestic grand piano. However it was Justin tied to a pole and sharing the same stage as the piano, which drew my attention. He was unconscious.

  “Let him go,” Shadow ordered. “He’s a commoner for Christ’s sake. He has no involvement in anything we do.”

  “The day you chose the Golden Virgin to be your precious soul mate was the day you allowed commoners to be a part of the Midnight Society’s affairs. You allowed them into the game,” Sinister replied. “Everything you do Shadow sets precedence and we all know there’s nothing more dangerous than precedence.”

  “Don’t hurt him, please,” I found myself begging. At that moment, I didn’t care about anything else in the world besides Justin’s safety, whose only mistake in life was falling in love with me.

  “Well my dear, that’s up to you now, “Sinister said. “Are you ready to save your friend?”

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked.

  The man gestured towards the grand piano. “Play for me,” he said.

  “That’s it?” I was skeptical. “I can do that. And then you’ll let Justin go?”

  “There’s a catch though,” he said. “I have a very fickle ear and absolutely detest mistakes. I can hear even the most minor ones. I demand an absolutely flawless technical performance.”

  “What will you have me play?” I asked.

  “Gaspard de la Nuit.”

  My heart sank at the cruel twist of fate.

  “You can’t be serious,” I exclaimed, recalling all my failed attempts at trying to master the difficult song. What he was asking me to do was impossible.

  “I thought you dreamed of being the world’s best performer,” Sinister said. “You can’t be the best without taking on new challenges and facing pressure.”

  I turned to Shadow. “I’m not good enough.”

  “Aria, you can do this,” Shadow said to me, his voice void of any doubt. “You’re one of the most gifted pianists I’ve ever heard.”

  “It’s impossible,” I shook my head. “I make at least ten mistakes on every play-through of the song. It’s far from perfect.”

  “Is the Golden Virgin giving up already?” Sinister mused.

  “No,” I said without hesitation.

  “If the pressure is too much, then concede. I’ll take pleasure in listening to the melodic sounds of your friend’s screaming while he burns.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Justin stirring. His eyes slowly fluttered open and he fixed his gaze on me.

  I ran to him.

  “I’m so sorry Justin,” I said as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held him. The warmth of his tears trickled down my shoulders and I couldn’t help but cry with him. “I promise you I’ll get you out of this.”

  I held him at arm’s length and looked into Justin’s eyes. “I’ll save you just like all the times you saved me during those first years of school. I promise.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded, placing his survival within my fingertips.

  “If we’re done with the melodrama, let us begin,” Sinister said, taking a front row seat. The doors to the auditorium opened and the masked guests began to file in, filling the empty seats. Sinister patted the seat next to him, motioning for Shadow to join him.

  “Go fuck yourself,” Shadow replied.

  “Fine, stand there then,” Sinister said, nodding to one of the demon-faced guards.

  The thug jammed his gun into Shadow’s spine and left it there, making it seemingly uncomfortable for him.

  “Come on then,” Sinister said. “Time’s wasting. We still have the bitch Calisto to deal with after this.”

  I was incredibly nervous as I strolled over to the piano and seated myself at the bench in front.

  I rested my fingertips atop of the keys and tried to remember Gaspar de la Nuit and its complex melody. Like a computer, I began downloading the sequence of notes from my brain onto my fingertips.

  “Any day now,” Sinister was growing impatient. It was never good to leave a psychopath waiting and so I began.

  The sounds from the piano immediately flooded the auditorium as my fingers danced across the smooth ivory surface of the instrument. Never had I taken greater care in playing a piece, my mind focused solely on the music. I prayed that the muscle memory in my fingers didn’t fail me as they rapidly scaled up and down the piano, filling the room with the beautiful song.

  As I continued to play, I channeled all my emotions into it, injecting life and personality into the piece. I was determined to make this performance a masterpiece—one that had the equivalent value of another human life.

  I had lost track of time as to how long I played for, but when I reached the finale of Gaspar de la Nuit, I was exhausted.

  But I did it. I had no idea how, but I did it.

  I had played Gaspard de la Nuit flawlessly.

  The silence that followed the last note of the song was unnerving. What did Sinister think? Was it good enough for his standards to allow Justin to live?

  From listening to the song so many times before, I knew technically that it was flawless.

  Sinister slowly rose to his feet and began applauding.

  Was that a sign of his approval? I held my breath as I waited for him to speak.

  “Brilliant,” he said. “It was absolutely brilliant. That performance does solidify you as one of the world’s best.”

  I was relieved.

  “You’ll let Justin go then?” I asked.

  “Good heavens, no. I’m
afraid he’ll have to burn.” Sinister’s reply tore me apart.

  “You bastard!” I shouted. “I did what you asked. I played Gaspard de la Nuit perfectly.”

  “Actually, there was one minor error in your piece,” Sinister pointed out.

  “There was none,” Shadow said. “I listened to that song thousands of times. It was perfect.”

  Sinister shook his head. “Uh-uh,” he refuted like a ten-year old.

  I was in complete disbelief. I thought everything was perfect. What did I do wrong?

  As if the sadistic bastard had read my mind, he looked at me with a sick delight in his eyes as he revealed my ‘error.’

  “The forty-fifth bar in the song, second stanza, it should have been played as mezzo forte instead of forte,” he stated. “Aside from that, the performance was flawless, really.”

  I wanted to die. The mistake was a petty one, open to interpretation. It was the equivalent of saying tomato one way instead of the other.

  “Don’t do this,” I pleaded. “Let him go. He’s innocent.”

  Sinister laughed. “Now that’s a lie my dear. None of us are innocent. It’s true that he’s an outsider and unfortunate collateral damage to this game we play, but don’t mistake him for being innocent. He knows about the Midnight Society, and that in itself is a sin.”

  Oh God, this was my fault. I should have never told Justin about the party and the Midnight Society. At the time, I had thought to myself, what’s the harm of telling just one person?

  Now I knew.

  If I had only kept my mouth shut; and now, Justin was going to die because of me.

  “Take me instead,” Shadow said suddenly. “Let them both go and burn me instead and end this feud.”

  Sinister was surprised by the suggestion. “Well look at you,” he jested. “Shadow’s trying to be a sacrificial Messiah all of a sudden. You’re willing to give up your life so your whore girlfriend can end up screwing a sad, pathetic commoner in the end?”

  “Just let them go,” Shadow repeated. “We have history between us Sinister. I know it’s my life you want. Let Aria, Justin, and Calisto walk out of here safe and unharmed and you can have me instead. Finish what you started with my father and mother.”

  Sinister thought about it for a moment and then shook his head. “I would have considered it but Calisto doesn’t get off so easily. She’s the guiltiest of them all.” He then turned to one of his henchmen and barked out an order. “Burn him.”