Werewolves of the Other London

by Amy Cross

  "The show must go on," says Darla calmly.

  "This is awful," I say, but I feel strangely pacified by the song that Mena is singing. As she swims around the tank, she glances over at me and smiles. I step back, shocked that I was noticed.

  "She likes you," says Darla, looking concerned. "Remember what I said. She's dangerous. She's the most dangerous thing in this place, maybe except the audience himself. Even then, she might... Just stay away, okay?"

  "Sure," I say, not really meaning it.

  As the singing stops, Darla leads me over to the main entrance. "Come on," she says. "We have to take a bow."

  Shocked and not really sure what's happening, I stand with the other werewolves and various other creatures, and suddenly we're led out into the ring again. It seems to be the end of the show, and we line up next to Mena's tank and we bow toward the audience, who remains impassive as always.

  "Hey Jess," says Mena, whispering to me. "Sounds like I was overshadowed tonight. Good job."

  I nod politely, but I make sure I don't engage her in conversation.

  As the noise dies down, the audience sits completely passively. He hasn't moved at all during the show. It's as if there was no show at all.

  "Another excellent evening!" says Grinde, clearly trying hard to put a brave face on the disappointment.

  "Don't worry," Darla whispers to me. "It's always like this."

  "Everyone!" Grinde shouts at us, desperately trying to keep the energy level up. "Take a bow!"

  One by one, each person steps forwards and gives a little bow to the audience. When it's my turn, I pause but eventually I give my bow. All I can think about, though, is the fact that I apparently killed Joe. No-one, not even Joe, deserves to be killed like that. If I can do something so horrific, and then not remember it, doesn't that make me a monster? I'm out of control. This time it was Joe, but who will I hurt next time.

  There's a sudden noise next to me. I turn to see Darla, who has stepped forward to take her bow, tripping and landing on her face.

  There's silence for a moment, and then someone starts to laugh. It's a high-pitched, unusual laugh, and at first I can't see who it's coming from. But as Darla looks up in horror, I realize that it's the audience who is laughing. Finally, his impassive little face breaks into a smile. He seems just like a normal kid now.

  Darla gets to her feet, bows, and steps back into the line. She casts me a quick glance, and she's obviously terrified.

  Grinde walks up to where the audience is sitting and they seem to talk for a moment, before Grinde turns to us and grins. "My friends, ladies and gentlemen! It gives me great pleasure to announce that the audience has made a decision. He has decided that tonight, one of you will be set free. For delivering a wonderful, beautifully timed and expertly crafted routine, the audience has decided that he would like to set free our very own, dear Darla."

  There's palpable tension as everyone turns to look at Darla. She stares straight ahead, seemingly not reacting to the news.

  "Darla," says Grinde. "You are invited to be a guest of the audience in his tent tonight. After that, you will of course be free to leave."

  Darla turns to look at me. Her eyes are filled with horror and shock. She thinks she's about to die, and I think she might be right.

  Duncan

  I wake up. It's dark. But somewhere in the distance, I can hear him sharpening his blades.

  Jess

  "What about Darla?" I ask as we head backstage, having watched as Darla was led away by Grinde to go with him and the audience.

  "What about her?" says Stephen, the older werewolf, as he removes his clown costume.

  "What's going to happen to her?" I ask. "Come on, you can't just let her disappear."

  "It's not our problem," Stephen insists. "She's the one who went and got herself noticed by the audience. Maybe he'll just let her go free. You never know."

  "That's bullshit," I say, cornering him. "You know he'll never let her go. Did he let Mags go?"

  Stephen visibly whitens when I mention Mags' name, as if it brings back a memory he'd rather not revisit. "You don't know what you're talking about," he says firmly. "But seriously, don't go messing about with the audience. What he wants, he gets." He looks me up and down. "That was an impressive performance tonight, the way you killed Joe. But you're no match for the audience."

  "He's just a little boy," I say.

  "No he's not," says Stephen. "Do you really think a little boy could control all of this? Do you really think a little boy could strike fear into the heart of Vigrous Grinde? Mark my words, the audience is far, far from a little boy." He pushes past me and heads for the door, but then he turns back to look at me. "I can't make you listen to me, but if you don't, you'll die too."

  "I didn't kill Joe," I say.

  "Then who did?" he replies.

  "I blacked out," I insist.

  "You're a new wolf. That's how it is with new wolves. But I promise you, that wolf is part of you. It is you. And you can't do anything about that."

  As soon as he's disappeared out through the door, I follow and head across the clearing. I immediately spot Darla being led toward the audience's tent, and being taken inside. There's no way I can let this happen to her, whatever 'this' is. I know one thing for sure: if I don't find a way to get Darla out of that tent, and then a way to get both of us out of this carnival, there's no hope for either of us.

  I turn as I hear some men talking. A small group of workers are emerging from Mena's tent, laughing among themselves as they walk away.

  As soon as I know that they've gone, I run over to the tent and head inside. As expected, there's nothing and no-one in there except the tank, and the sound of Mena splashing about up there.

  I run over to the steps and head up to the top, where I find Mena gently swimming in circles.

  "Nice to see you again," she says. "What can I do for you this time?"

  "You have to help me," I say. "You have to help me help Darla."

  Mena stares at me. "I can't leave this tank," she says. "I can't help your friend."

  "I know," I say, stepping toward the edge of the water. "But you can help me." And with that, I lean forwards and allow myself to fall into the water. I seem to sink forever, but finally I manage to get the right way up and I swim to the top. As I surface, I take a deep breath, then I turn to find that there's no sign of Mena. I turn both ways, but she's nowhere. What the hell? Then I look down and see a large, ominous shape swimming directly beneath me. I look over at the side of the tank. I could try to get out, but something tells me Mena wouldn't like that particularly.

  Suddenly there's a splashing sound. I turn to find that Mena has surfaced behind me. Her wet hair and skin glisten in the low light, and she flashes that gorgeous smile at me again as I tread water in front of her.

  "You've a very brave girl," Mena says. "Very surprising in many ways."

  "You said you could help me," I say. "You said you can get this thing out of my neck. I need you to do it, so that I can rescue Darla and get us out of here."

  "Us?" Mena says.

  I stare at her for a moment. "Me and Darla," I say eventually. "Is there any way I can take you with us?"

  Mena shakes her head, but she's still smiling. "If you want me to help you," she says, "you'll have to turn your back to me."

  "Okay," I say. "But if you try to hurt me, I swear I'll take you down with me, okay?"

  Mena laughs. "Whatever you say."

  I swim to the side of the tank and turn my back to Mena. I hear her swimming up behind me, and then I feel her putting her hands on my shoulders.

  "This will hurt a little," she says. "There's no other way. I have to get this device out of you. Do you understand?"

  "Yeah," I say.

  "You have a very nice neck."

  I smile a little.

  "Did you hear me?" she asks.

  "Yes," I say. "Sorry. Thank you."

  I feel her move closer behind me, and then I feel her
putting her mouth around the space where the implant is buried in the back of my neck. She seems to be using her teeth and her tongue to dislodge it. As she works, I feel her breasts pressed against my back, and occasionally the tip of her tail brushes against my legs. Finally I feel a sharp pain in my neck, and Mena pulls away from me.

  As I turn, I see her removing a little device from between her teeth. She smiles. "That was easy," she says. "I was able to get the whole device out, so you have no need to worry anymore about Vigrous Grinde's little machine."

  "Thanks," I say. "But... why did you agree to help me?"

  "I like you," she replies. "And perhaps one day, you will be able to help me in return."

  "Of course," I say. "I have to go right now, I have to go and help Darla."

  "Are you sure you won't stay with me a little longer?" she asks, smiling slightly.

  "I'm sorry," I say, hauling myself out of the water and heading over to the steps. "Thank you," I say again, looking back at Mena. "I'll come back to help you. And... I'm glad I trusted you."

  "So am I," she says. "But I must admit something. Please don't take this the wrong way, but..." She seems reluctant. "If you had accepted my invitation to stay in the water with me, you'd be dead by now."

  I stare at her.

  "I'm sorry," she says sadly, "it's just in my nature to kill." She smiles. "But I promise, you would have enjoyed it."

  Duncan

  He's coming back.

  Jess

  When I step out of Mena's tent, it's pitch black outside and there seems to be no-one about. There are lights in some of the tents, and I can hear people talking, but in general it seems like I'm the only person outside. Nevertheless, I move carefully around the clearing. When I reach the side of Vigrous Grinde's office, I hear him snoring, so I move on quietly and eventually I reach the werewolf tent. It sounds like they're arguing in there, and I move on, but as I get close to the audience's tent, a hand grabs me arm.

  I turn to find Stephen has caught up with me.

  "Whatever you're about to do," he says firmly. "Don't. Leave it alone."

  "You don't care about her at all?" I ask.

  "It's not about caring," he says. "It's about understanding that there are things that you, and I, can't change."

  "You don't know what he's doing to her in there," I say.

  "Don't I?" he asks. "Don't get involved."

  I look over at the audience's tent. There's a light inside.

  "He's killing her, isn't he?" I ask. When Stephen doesn't answer, I turn to him and see the look of fear in his eyes. "Isn't he? What happened to that girl Mags? You know, don't you? What does the audience do to them? What, does he bite or something?"

  Stephen pauses. "It almost... You don't want to see. If you interrupt, it'll drive you crazy when you see what he's doing, and it'll make the agony last longer for her. Okay?"

  "He eats them?" I ask, shocked.

  Stephen shakes his head. "He doesn't have teeth. He sucks the flesh from their bodies, then he sucks the muscle from their bones, and they're alive until the very end." He stares at me, his eyes wide. "Don't get involved. Don't mess with things you don't understand."

  I turn so he can see the back of my neck. "See that?" I ask. "The implant is gone. I got it removed." I turn back to him. "Do you really think I don't understand how to do things around here?"

  "How?" he asks, clearly shocked.

  I smile. "Mena."

  Stephen shakes his head. "Impossible. You... You'd be dead."

  "Well," I say, shrugging. "I guess she liked me." I push past Stephen and head over to the audience's tent. As I get closer, I start to hear a sound from inside, as if someone is whimpering or crying. It's a terrible, quiet sound; somehow, it wouldn't be as bad if Darla was screaming, but because she's just whimpering, it sounds so awful. But I can't just charge into the tent, I have to come up with a plan. After all, I have no idea what the audience is capable of doing.

  I sneak up to the door of the tent and look inside. It's dark in there, and at first I can't make anything out. But finally, in the gloom, I spot Darla and the audience, and my stomach almost turns. Darla is sitting on a sofa, a look of total terror on her face, but she has one arm outstretched and the audience is kneeling, and he's slowly sucking the skin from her hand. It's as if the audience has some kind of power over Darla, forcing her to stay where she is even while she's in pain. There's almost no skin left on her hand, which is red and raw and glistens in the low light.

  Looking at the audience, something tells me that if he was easy to kill, someone would have done it by now. But I don't even know what he is. Rushing in would probably just get me killed, and wouldn't help Darla, so I need some kind of plan. Stephen's no use, but I think I know someone here who might agree to help me.

  "Wake up!" I shout, kicking the chair from under Vigrous Grinde, sending him crashing to the floor.

  "What?" he shouts, scrambling back to his feet, bleary-eyed, looking at me in shock. It takes him a moment to gather himself together, to understand what's happening. "What the hell are you doing?" he roars.

  "I need your help," I say firmly. "And you're going to give it to me."

  Grinde grabs the little device off his desk, aims it at me and presses the button. Nothing happens. He presses it again. Still, nothing happens. He looks at the device, shocked.

  "Yeah," I say, smiling. "About that." I show him the back of my neck. "I took a little swim, and it just fell right out."

  Grinde stares at me, his eyes wide, and it's clear that he's totally shocked. He opens his mouth to say something, but he can't speak.

  I step forward, grab his collar and pull him toward me. "You saw me tonight," I say. "You saw what I did to Joe. You know I can do it to you too. Right?"

  He nods frantically. He seems utterly helpless.

  "There's only one way you can get in my good books. I need you to tell me about the audience. And I need you to hurry, because he's hurting a friend of mine. So come on, what is he? And how do I stop him?"

  "I don't know," Grinde says. "I swear, I don't know."

  "You don't know what he is?" I ask. "I don't believe that. Come on, spit it out."

  "I don't know!" he shouts.

  "You're making me angry," I say firmly. "Remember what happened to Joe earlier when I got angry. You really, really wouldn't like it if I got angry with you."

  He stares at me in shock. "He's old!" he blusters eventually. "He's something old from before, from before everything. From before the dawn of time."

  I pull Grinde closer, right up to my face. "Be. More. Precise." I can tell that he's not telling me everything he knows.

  "He's..." Grinde begins. "I can't tell you," he whimpers. "I can't tell anyone, he -"

  I don't say anything. I just stare into Grinde's eyes.

  "Okay!" he shouts. "Don't hurt me!" He pauses. "Do you know of the End Time? When all of the world will be consumed by fire, and all souls will be burned? Some people call it the apocalypse. Some call it Armageddon. The old Norse gods called it Ragnarok. Whatever you call it, every religion says that eventually there will come an end to everything."

  "What's that got to do with the audience?" I ask.

  "He is the end of everything," Grinde says, almost whimpering now. "As long as he is amused by the carnival, he will stay here with us. But if he leaves, if he becomes bored or restless, if he goes out into the world..." He fixes me with a determined, horrified stare. "If he grows up, he will become the End Time."

  "That's not possible," I say. "Some little kid can't be the apocalypse."

  "It's what he will become," Grinde whimpers, "if we allow him to grow up."

  I pause. Given what I've seen recently - werewolves, mermaids, Tenderlings and so on - does this story really seem so impossible to believe. "How long has he been here?" I ask.

  "Centuries," Grinde says. "But... nothing we do for him is ever enough. He just sits there, wanting more and more and more. I don't know if I can hold h
im off for much longer. He's insatiable!"

  I nod. "Right now, he's slowly killing Darla. Okay? And we have to stop him. So tell me."

  "I don't know!" Grinde says.

  "You do know," I say, staring into his eyes. "And you're going to tell me."

  "I don't know!" he shouts. "Look at me! If I knew how to get rid of him, don't you think I'd have done it by now? He's too powerful!"

  After a moment, I let go of Grinde's collar and he drops to the floor. The crazy thing is, I believe him. He really doesn't know how to get rid of the audience. He's part of this whole game, being used by the audience for... Well, that's the part I don't really understand. If the audience really is all powerful, all seeing, and capable of bringing the world to an end, then why is he hanging around night after night watching a carnival show that he doesn't really seem to enjoy? There has to be more to his secret than this. There has to be something else that he wants.

  Leaving Grinde's office, I glance over at Mena's tent. She's in there, swimming about in her little tank, with everyone terrified to go near her. But she doesn't have to be so lonely. As I stare at the entrance to her tent, I suddenly realize who the audience is, I suddenly realize his secret. He's not the End Time or any of that garbage that Grinde believes. He's... it's almost too bizarre to believe. But I think I understand, and that means I know exactly how to save Darla and get rid of this audience kid once and for all.

  Duncan

  "I always knew it would come to this," he says solemnly. "I hoped that I could change you. That I could teach you. But deep down, I always knew that this is how it would end. It gives me no satisfaction to know that I failed with you. You could have become such a wonderful, proud werewolf. Instead, you fell to temptation. If it is any consolation, I promise you that I will weep over your body once you are dead."

  With my eyes closed, I ignore his taunting words. All I can think about is Anna. Why didn't I read her letter while I still had the time? In the name of Sangreth himself, why was I such a coward?