#it's the glaring gaps in her quest content that make it all so much worse

[5mcsinatrenchcoat]

is there a way to block one single post without necessarily blocking the whole person

[bookandcranny]

Entertainer in a Minor Key

Pale light filters in through tears in the canvas. Rows of bleachers and folding chairs stand sentinel over a ring of sawdust, where in the center sits a wooden box with a star painted on the side. A prop chest or maybe a crate of old costumes, forgotten like the rest of it. Whoever left this place in such a state must have been in some hurry, Tanis muses.

Curious, she steps into the ring to investigate. The look of that box brushes against another of those deep-down memories and brings to mind a child’s toy chest. The big padlock is a bit atypical though. Mindlessly she reaches for the multitool in her back pocket and kneels to fiddle with it. As she fits it into the lock, the lid props open an inch and a round, blue eye peers out at her from the shaded darkness.

summary: When you’re traveling across the country on foot in a world overrun with every kind of horror movie monster the mind can imagine on an ill-fated quest to go beat up your former boss, it’s important to maintain a sense of humor, as well as an open mind.

content warnings: descriptions of violence and gore

length: about 9k words

The fairgrounds have been long since abandoned by the time Tanis stumbles upon them. A big top tent sways gently in the wind, its candy-colored stripes looking faded and grim under the shadow of the oncoming storm. A loose bit of canvas flaps against the dark mouth of the entryway in a two-four rhythm. Pap-pap, pap-pap. 

Tanis’ inclination is to duck inside before the lazy drizzle of rain has the chance to start falling in earnest, but first, the test. Rolling up the sleeve of her flannel reveals a list written on her forearm in black marker.

NO:

Abandoned houses

Dark caves

Graveyards

Wax museums

The last bullet point is underlined. Never again.

“Well it doesn’t say anything about old circuses,” she says to herself. “But that’s probably because I’ve never been to one.”

It’s not what she’d call an inviting looking place, but neither does it seem especially dangerous, and the longer she spends deliberating outside the entrance the colder and wetter she’s getting. With no sign of any other half-decent shelter to be found, she steps inside.

There’s something oddly nostalgic about this place, she thinks. Odd because she doesn’t remember ever going to the circus as a kid. Maybe it’s the smell: wood chips and an unidentifiable sugary sweetness that reminds her of playing on the playground behind the school, the ice cream truck that parked there during the summers, popsicles melting onto careless sticky fingers. 

Pale light filters in through tears in the canvas. Rows of bleachers and folding chairs stand sentinel over a ring of sawdust, where in the center sits a wooden box with a star painted on the side. A prop chest or maybe a crate of old costumes, forgotten like the rest of it. Whoever left this place in such a state must have been in some hurry, Tanis muses.

Curious, she steps into the ring to investigate. The look of that box brushes against another of those deep-down memories and brings to mind a child’s toy chest. The big padlock is a bit atypical though. Mindlessly she reaches for the multitool in her back pocket and kneels to fiddle with it. As she fits it into the lock, the lid props open an inch and a round, blue eye peers out at her from the shaded darkness.

“Oh, um. Hello in there.”

“Please let me out,” a voice whispers from inside.

“Aw, ‘course I will. It can’t be too comfortable in there.” After a tense minute of probing with the head of a screwdriver, the lock springs open. “There we go! How’d you even manage to…”

A bone-white hand crams itself through the gap, fingers skittering spider-like over the clasp. The lid creaks open and from within rises a doll, a slender circus clown with long ball-jointed limbs tucked into its chest, unfolding like the petals of a flower. It’s taller than Tanis by a head at least and its painted face looms over her with an open-hinged smile.

“Ah. I see now.”

“Ooh, thank you thank you!” the doll trills in the voice of a bubbly young woman. She raises her legs out of the box with the wobbly grace of a drunken ballerina, head bobbing above a moth-eaten ruffle collar, causing her eyes to roll from side to side in their sockets like pale marbles.

“No need to thank me. I just popped in to catch a show but it looks like I missed my window so I’ll just be on my way.”

She makes to leave the way she came but the doll leaps in front of her with surprising speed. 

“Don’t go yet. Play with me,” she says. “Oh won’t you please play with me?”

Tanis thinks about it, weighing her options. She reaches for the guitar case slung over her back. “Yeah, alright.”

“Really?”

“Sure, it’s been a while since I had a good jam sesh. What do you play?”

The doll freezes, then with the crackling creak of stiff wooden joints it bends its body backwards and begins rifling through the crate. She fishes through frilly costumes, loose kernels of stale popcorn, packing peanuts, and emerges with a bright red toy piano. It makes a bouncy, tinny sound as she strikes the keys.

“Avant-garde. I like it.”

“If you could do me the kindness of turning my key.” She turns around and points at a brass windup key jutting out of a whole in her leotard. 

In for a penny, in for a pound I guess. Tanis gives it a few twists. It clicks, spins, and the doll jerks forward, striking a shrill note. 

“Oh that feels so much better!”

She lays her rosewood fingers across the piano keys and this time a full, rich sound echoes from the little toy. Suddenly a spotlight shines down from somewhere above them, piercing through the shadows. Tanis’ blinks against the glare. She squints up at the rafters but can’t for her life figure out where the light is coming from.

“Nice trick. You’re a performer of many talents, Ms Clown.”

“Silly! My name is Caroline!”

She nods, strumming a few experimental chords. “Tanis. What’re you doing in a gloomy place like this?”

In lieu of a response, Caroline begins to play faster, and as she plays the circus seems to be transported back in time. The ubiquitous signs of wear and age fade before Tanis’ eyes and the empty tent begins to fill up with cheers and laughter and the awed murmurs of a captivated audience. When she tries to look at them, however, like a half-remembered dream the faces of both the patrons and the other entertainers alike are replaced by churning mass of blurry gray features.

“I was the secret show-stopper, the dancing doll! The ringmaster had me made special. But one day, the show was stopped for good, and I was left alone.”

No intonation betrays her thoughts, yet as she speaks the ghosts of the past begin to fade, returning the tent to its dour state.

Not sure what to say, Tanis replies, “That’s a shame. Is that why you were all shut up in that box?”

She takes her hands off the keys, but the music keeps playing. A new vision appears; the hazy forms of strangers, travelers like Tanis whose curiosity or search for shelter drove them to this place before her. They murmur amongst themselves as they peer and point at the oddity in the ring. Caroline reaches for them and they recoil in horror before vanishing like smoke.

“No one wanted to play.”

Tanis shifts uneasily on her feet. This is awkward. “Aw jeez, I’m sorry about all that. But things’ll look up soon, I’m sure.”

No reply. Tanis’ hands still. She doesn’t really feel like playing anymore.

“Anyway, thanks for the song but it sounds like the rain’s letting up so I better be on my way.”

The music cuts out. Suddenly all is silent but for the quiet clicking of the spinning key.

“You don’t want to play anymore?” Caroline asks softly.

She put up her hands. “No offense. I just gotta keep moving. I’ve still got a long way to travel, you see.”

Once again she tries to leave and once again the doll bars her way. Standing up from the piano she twists her dexterous fingers into Tanis’ shirt collar and lifts her off the ground.

“You can’t go,” she implores. “You mustn’t go. It’s so very dangerous out there.”

Tanis struggles in her grip. “Seems pretty bad in here too.”

“Oh but I don’t want to harm you! I only wish to entertain!” 

The spectral spotlights return twice as bright, causing the woman to wince. She kicks at her captor’s wooden limbs. The thing doesn’t so much as flinch.

“Come on now, let’s be reasonable and put-” Thunk. “Me-” Thunk. “Down.”

“You’re quite spirited, Ms Tanis! I’ve so missed having a lively audience.”

She spins her around and pins her up against the bleachers. Sneaking a hand into her back pocket, Tanis pulls out the multitool and jams the knife edge into her side. This at last gets a reaction from her. She makes a small startled noise, closer to offense than pain, and throws the woman to the ground. 

The fall itself isn’t bad, but she doesn’t relish the feeling of her guitar slamming into her torso. Tanis groans and pushes herself up while Caroline continues to fret over the pocket knife lodged in her. She pulls and pulls but it's gotten all twisted up in her frilly costume and every seam she tears with her tugging makes her whimper like a distressed child. 

Taking advantage of the distraction, Tanis picks up her guitar, the closest thing to a weapon she has on hand, and swings it at her head. There’s a satisfying pop as one of her marble eyes shoots out of its socket and rolls under the stands. The doll bends double with a piercing wail. 

“Sorry about this, Caroline. You seemed alright.” 

With that, she reaches over and rips the brass key out of her back. The clown-creature slouches, then falls to her knees. The hole in her back oozes with a trickle of something-- not blood, thankfully. Something darker and more viscous, almost like molasses.

Tanis sighs and plops down on the sawdust floor. She’s relieved to find her guitar not much worse for wear in spite of her rough handling, although she’ll need to replace a snapped string. She lays it gently back into its case and fishes out a marker from her sparse bundle of belongings. 

NO:

Abandoned houses

Dark caves

Graveyards

Wax museums

Circuses

She rolls the dancing doll’s key around in her hand. After a moment’s deliberation, she lifts the oversized toy up over her shoulder and drops her back into her box. She plugs the smooth chunk of brass back into the weeping wound; Caroline shudders but otherwise remains dormant.

“There we go, no harm no foul,” she tells her limp form. “You rest up now.”

Tanis has come across her fair share of monsters already but rarely has one shown so much emotion. Most of the beasties she encounters don’t seem to know more than the bottomless hunger that drives them. She hasn’t had much reason up until now to consider what they might’ve been before, but now that the seed is sewn, she can’t help but feel a bit bad for the poor thing. 

Loneliness is a bitch and to be a performer without any audience is a plight she’s all too familiar with. She remembers the desperation, the despair, the things it could drive a person to do.

With the weight of the case back on her shoulders and the firm earth back beneath her feet, the traveler sets off again.

--

It feels like she’s been trudging through the mud for an age and a half before she reaches the next human township. Her burdens feel twice as heavy today and she’s eager to find someplace to lay them down if only for the night. 

The quaint settlement is surrounded on all sides by a high wooden wall and there’s an exposed duct trailing around the perimeter, the stagnant water turned pink from where the red soil flooded in with the rain. A tired looking soldier waves to her from his perch above the gate.

“Hello down there. What’s your business?”

“I’m just looking for a place to stay the night. If you can point me in the direction of a boarding house or a shelter I’ll be right out of your hair, sir.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I can’t let you in until I know you’re not a monster.”

She scoffs. “You guys get many monsters that look like me?”

“You never know these days. Last month we had some…  troubles.” His expression turns dark. “We’re still recouping from our losses, you understand. Can’t take the risk.”

Tanis shrugs. Fair enough. “My name’s Tanis Lahey and I’m a traveling musician.” She gestures to her guitar. “I ain’t got much in the way of money and even less to barter, but I’m not expecting luxury, just a place to rest my head and maybe a hot meal to keep me going.”

“Where do you come from, Ms Lahey? And where are you going?”

“I come from over west; Ohm Town, Oklahoma. Destination: Bigge City.”

The guard scratches his stubbly chin. “That’s a hell of a trip, especially to make on foot.”

“I had a car but it broke down as I was crossing the state line. A pack of ghouls spiked the highway. I dipped out before things could get messy.”

He nods, only half listening, she suspects. She isn’t expecting sympathy for her tale; it’s hardly one of a kind.

“Any weapons?”

“Nothing but my razor sharp wit, sir.”

He levels her an unimpressed look. “What’s your business in Bigge? Family?”

She shakes her head. “Work, sort of. I’m meeting with my manager to renegotiate a contract.”

“Good on you. Good work’s hard to come by these days.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“You said you’re a musician, right? We haven’t got much for music here. There’s an inn in the center of town that’d probably put you up in exchange for a good show.”

He turns and makes a motion behind him for whoever’s working the crank on the other side and the gate begins to rise. The wooden creaking stirs a feeling of discontent in Tanis, too reminiscent of recent events.

“Thanks for the tip, I’ll be sure to do that.”

Finding the inn isn’t hard, considering it’s one of maybe four buildings that’s more than a pop-up shanty. Settlements like this aren’t so unusual: a group of refugees from an infested district cobbles together some cheap homes, a couple municipal buildings, maybe even a business or two, and most importantly, a hefty monster-proof security system. In a few decades if the place is still standing it becomes a destination for those unlucky few like herself who are caught out traveling the wilds and secures a tidy profit in trade and touristry, if you can call it that.

It’s clear however that this particular patch of civilization has hit some hard times, even by the usual standards. It’s almost startlingly easy for Tanis to strike up a deal with the innkeeper: room and board in exchange for a few hours of music in the pub downstairs, or until the night’s patronage dries up, and she even gets to keep the tips. 

“It’s been a hard winter,” says the manager. “Folks walk around as if in a fog or else mad as hell at every little thing, just looking for a reason to start a fight. Some music might lift their spirits.”

“That’s what I’m here for, ma’am,” says Tanis. “Just give me a few minutes to tune up and get my things in order.”

She guides her to her room and then leaves her be, telling her she’ll try to get the local rumor mill turning, get the word out about her before she takes the floor. Alone now, Tanis sets her things down on the bed and opens the case, falling on her ass for the second time today when out climbs none other than Caroline the dancing doll.

“You-!” She sputters and looks around for something to put between the two of them.

“Surprise!” The one-eyed puppet throws her arms wide, wiggling her hands for emphasis. “Oh wait don’t-”

Tanis lobs her shoe at her. It hits her in the face, but she doesn’t seem bothered, or else it’s simply that she’s not capable of expressing a very wide range of emotion with her painted on expression and nutcracker-like jaw.

“No no no, don’t be afraid,” Caroline insists.

Tanis reaches down to untie her other shoe. “I’m not afraid, I’m pissed. Serves me right for taking pity on you.”

“It was fairly foolish from a strictly objective standpoint, but also very kind.”

Her narrow shoulders tuck in close, creating an almost sheepish effect.

 “Nobody’s ever done a thing like that before. Nobody’s ever taken the time to play a song with me and listen to my story.”

Slowly, Tanis lowers the shoe.

“I don’t mean to harm you or cause you any trouble,” Caroline continues. “It’s only, you’re a terribly strange human, and I wanted oh so much to keep playing with you. I thought to myself, ‘if I can’t keep Ms Tanis from leaving, I’ll simply have to go with her’. So when you weren’t looking I curled myself up all teensy tiny and climbed in with your lovely instrument and away we went! In addition to my myriad musical abilities I also happen to be a fabulous contortionist, you know.”

She demonstrates this by tipping forward and pulling her legs behind her head in a position that would’ve been truly disturbing on a flesh and blood body. 

“No wonder my case felt so heavy,” Tanis grumbles, standing up. “Look, sweetheart, you can’t be here. This is a strictly no-monster zone. We could both get in a huge amount of trouble. Not to mention I’m still not positive you won’t kill me in my sleep.”

“Please don’t leave me! We can play more music together! Or, turn my key and I’ll show you another magic trick! We can play cards or do each other’s makeup. I’ll make you look like a tiger.” She shuffles forward on ball-jointed knees, pleading. “You’re the only one who’s not afraid of me.”

Tanis can’t help but smirk at that. “Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that.”

“Oh I know, it’s because we’re best friends.”

She frowns. “No, no it’s… it’s a long story, hon.”

“I love stories!”

“Not a fun story, Caroline.” She shakes her head, rakes a hand through her short curls, growing longer and messier by the day it seems. “I’m not scared of you because I physically can’t fear any fear. Someone took it from me.”

She cocks her head. “Took… your fear?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that I guess. Sort of hard to explain.”

“Perhaps you should start with ‘once upon a time’. All the best stories start like that.”

Tanis sighs through her nose. “Agree to disagree but I’ll give it a shot. Once upon a time, in the far away land of Oklahoma…”

--

Once upon a time there was a young musician named Tanis. She worked in her parents’ bakery in a town where nothing ever changed, not in summer or winter, not in rain or blizzard or tornado. Even when the monsters came and the natural order of the world was turned on its head, for the most people still went on about their business as usual, just with an added tinge of constant dread, and even that wasn’t off-beat enough to endanger the status quo.

Tanis had big dreams of making it as a rock star and leaving her small world behind, but the people around her didn’t quite see things her way. Eventually she struck out on her own, intent on proving wrong all the naysayers wrong. Unfortunately, talent and raw gusto aren’t enough to make a star, and passion doesn’t pay the bills, as she soon discovered. 

After only just scraping by for more than a year, fameless and friendless, she was about to call it quits and head back home in shame when she was approached by a strange gentleman.

He called himself Mr Slyme, which maybe should have been a red flag on its own. But Tanis didn’t care. She was willing to do anything for success and he was promising her not only a paying gig but, if the show went well, an entire sponsored tour.

The very first time she stepped onto that stage she knew she’d gotten in over her head. In their dealings Mr Slyme had failed to mention that she’d be playing for an audience entirely of monsters. Still, if she shut her eyes while she sang the screeches and howling cries didn’t sound so different from the cheers of an adoring crowd. Skin warm from the limelight and stars in her eyes, she knew she couldn’t go back to the way things were, whatever the risk.

Mr Slyme was very pleased with her performance and had her sign a contract with his company right away. After that it was tours and autographs and show after show after show. Time seemed to blur together in a single crashing wave of euphoric adrenalin. She felt like she could go on like this forever.

Then, that last concert. The one where it all went wrong. A darkened auditorium and the metallic tang of blood in the air. She hadn’t thought to ask questions before stepping on stage, and by then it was too late. The ritual was already underway. 

It felt as though her hands were not her own. A chant bubbled up from her throat in a voice she could barely recognize. The lights were fiery hot yet her blood ran cold when she heard, above the hysterical clamour of the crowd, the word “sacrifice”.

Tanis was never entirely certain how she made it out alive. Maybe someone up there was still looking out for her, despite it all. All she knew was by the time she escaped she was in a bad state, her clothes in shreds, her hair coming out in chunks, her whole body shaking as the blood cooled on her skin, much of it her own. She got in her car and drove, no destination in mind except home. Facing her family might be the worst part of all, but there was nowhere else to go. 

She prayed that it was all over now.

The morning after her final concert Tanis woke up in a motel with a strange feeling of absence, like the tugging in your brain when you can’t remember what you’ve forgotten. She was jolted into awareness by the sound of her phone ringing, and when she answered she was greeted by the sneering, insidious voice of Mr Slyme dripping into her ear.

By refusing to see the performance through, he told her, she’d breached the terms of her contract. As recompense, he had taken something of hers. Something precious. 

Tanis wasn’t one to put her faith in the intangible, the mystical. Or, she hadn’t been back then. Even if she had paid proper attention to what she was signing she probably wouldn’t have given the clause very much thought, perhaps written it off as a joke. As it was, the sudden loss of her mortal soul wasn’t quite what she might’ve expected. No demons appeared in her motel room to drag her down into a fiery pit. To tell the truth, she didn’t feel very different at all. Still, something had changed.

As days went by Tanis began to notice herself becoming more careless. She burned herself cooking simply because it didn’t occur to her to not touch the hot pan with her bare fingers. Where pain used to be a teacher now it only made her indignant. The daily dangers of reckless drivers and unfriendly dogs and strangers coming too close to her as she walked down a darkened street no longer gave her any sense of unease. Several times she had to consciously stop herself from walking into a busy crosswalk simply because she couldn’t remember why the outcome might be undesirable. 

It may have been more tolerable, she thought, if she simply wanted to die. That’s what people tended to assume of her anyway in the wake of this new affliction. But there was no sadness or suffering in her, not even when she remembered the events of the ritual that she’d thought would scar her forever, only a slow creeping apathy which grew stronger every passing moment.

Against the odds, she did come to relearn fear, the basic mechanics of it if not the actual feeling, and stopped regularly endangering herself in such ridiculous ways. Fearlessness, she realized, didn’t have to equal reckless stupidity as long as she remained mindful of it. 

Still, this couldn’t go on forever. Mr Slyme wasn’t taking her calls, naturally, and so she set off for the one place she knew she could find him: the main offices of Slyme House Incorporated. 

--

“So, that’s me,” Tanis finished with a lackluster shrug. “I’ve managed to keep myself in one piece so far but it’s kind of difficult when you have zero sense of self preservation and there are monsters literally everywhere. I’m not sure what’ll happen to me if I die or if I even really care, only I figure if I do kick it I won’t be able to play music anymore.”

She gives her guitar an idle strum as she finishes tuning.

“Music is pretty much the only thing that ever made me really happy. If I couldn’t do that, I don’t know. I can’t feel fear but I can still feel happiness and sadness and all the rest.” She clenches her fist. “Anger too, definitely. I’m angry that I was duped like that, the kind of angry that I don’t think’s gonna let up until I put my fist all the way through Slyme’s ugly face.”

“I’m sure you’ll be quite good at it! You’re very strong.”

Tanis snaps out of her stewing, sparing a guilty glance towards Caroline’s empty left socket and the cracks still faintly visible through the tear in her leotard. 

“Listen, I’m sorry about what happened back there. I’m not really used to meeting monsters that don’t wanna, you know, kill and eat me, and my fight or flight response is pretty much just fight at the moment.”

Caroline laughs, or rather, she vocalizes a robotic sounding “ahaha!” that must be her version of laughter. “I would never eat you. I don’t even have a digestive system!”

Tanis presses her lips together. “Right.”

There’s a knock on the door. 

“Oh shit, right, I’m supposed to play.”

Caroline jumps up. “I want to come too! Please please pretty please!”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” She pauses, considers. “Unless… do you think you can pretend to be, you know, a normal doll for a while?”

“Pretend? I love to play pretend!” She claps her wooden hands together. “Lead the way, Ms Tanis!”

There’s an itching at the back of her brain that tells her this may be a mistake, the ghost of her good sense hanging on by a thread. But without concern for her own wellbeing her sympathy for the dopey doll takes the reins, and together they take the stage. 

It’s a sad crowd, both in terms of size and demeanor. Hopefully, she thinks, they’re deep enough in their cups to not question the windup automaton that stands before them.

“Good evening, folks, my name’s Tanis and this is Caroline the fantastic dancing doll.”

Caroline gives a robotic jerk and bows at the waist. It’s a surprisingly convincing performance, but then, it probably comes naturally to her. A few patrons give an amused chuckle at Caroline’s antics. Tanis takes it as a good sign and begins the first song.

Despite not having the time to rehearse, Caroline manages to play her part well, improvising along to the music the other provides with sweeping, exaggerated movements that hold the crowd’s attention. It’s actually sort of nice, the guitarist thinks, to share the stage with someone else for a change. Even if the “stage” is just the corner of a dingy inn stinking of bathtub booze. 

The atmosphere is infectious and after a few songs the crowd has doubled in number, everyone bobbing their heads or tapping their feet along with the music. It feels good. It feels better than most things have felt in a long time.

Halfway through the night Tanis breathlessly declares that they’ll be taking a break. In her excitement, she’d put some more pepper on those last few numbers than usual. The place is packed now, the staff happily passing around refills and lining their pockets. 

Caroline pretends to wind down to stop while Tanis takes a seat at one of the tables to recover. A server brings her a glass of water and she downs it in seconds. She makes a point of staying in practice while on the road but she’d forgotten how intoxicating it could be to play for a crowd, and one where no one wanted your head on a platter to boot.

While she flexes her fingers and rolls her neck in preparation for the next set, Tanis happens to overhear a conversation taking place amongst a group at the next table over.

“All I’m saying is, we know what it's after. Why are we sitting around when we could set a trap and finish the thing off once in for all?”

“If you’re looking for someone to be the bait, I call not it.”

“I don’t think something like that can be killed. My grandpa always says--”

“Nobody cares what the old man says, Jonah. I’m telling you, if it bleeds, you can kill it. That’s just common sense.”

“Excuse me,” Tanis pipes up. “Am I hearing you right? You folks are monster hunters?”

If she were looking, she would see Caroline’s head roll to the side, her good eye following her warily.

“Something like that,” says the woman at the table with a rumbling laugh in her throat. “I’m Luanne and this is Phil, and the kid is Jonah.”

Jonah, a young man with rusty red hair, grumbles under his breath. Phil gives her the barest nod of acknowledgment before launching back into his argument.

“I can’t get to sleep at night knowing those things are still out there, lurking around, feeding off our scraps all fat and happy.”

“If it keeps them from breaking down the wall and carrying us off instead…”

“What’s the point of the wall if monsters are just gonna get in anyway!”

“Ignore the boys. What’s your interest in monster hunting?” asks Luanne. “You thinking about quitting the music business? Trust me, this job doesn’t have as many perks as you’d think.”

“Nah, that’s not for me,” she says. “I’ve run into monsters aplenty on the road, but never on purpose. I just have a knack for getting into trouble, and I was hoping you could point me in the direction of someplace I could get myself a weapon. After tonight I might actually be able to afford it.”

“Don’t waste your money,” Jonah insists sharply. “Monsters can’t be killed, I’m telling you. You can hurt ‘em, sometimes real bad, but they just come back in a new shape.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means what it means. I’m just saying.”

“What are you saying? You think it’s pointless?”

“No, man, you know I’m not. Just that we need to be looking for long-term solutions instead of just shooting or building walls that’ll fall down in another few years. We’re not cavemen. We ought to be studying monsters, finding out what makes ‘em tick.”

“And where are you gonna find a monster to study?”

The younger stammers at that, coming up empty. Tanis smirks against the lip of her glass. Have you ever tried playing music for them until they follow you home?

Soon her time is up and she takes the stage again. By the end of the night she’s collected a hefty bit of coin and she’s more than ready to retire. A couple of the lingering townsfolk meander over to try and make conversation as she finishes collecting her dues, the trio of ameteur hunters among them.

“Don’t quit this music thing,” Luanne tells her. “If you get yourself killed tracking some beasty the world’s gonna be down a damn good singer. You write those songs yourself?”

“Some of them. Most of them are covers. People don’t usually seem to care one way or the other, and writing’s not really my forte.”

“Don’t say that, kid. You put on a hell of a show. Especially with that whole dancing doll shtick.” She gestures at Caroline who’s playing dead on the floor. “Where’d you find this crazy looking thing?”

“Oh, well, she- it used to be a circus prop. I just kind of found her.” Sticking with half-truths feels like the safest bet. She has no idea how she’d explain her away otherwise.

Phil nudges Caroline with the heel of his boot. “Kind of creepy if you ask me.”

“No one asked you, Phil.”

He grunts and turns away. Caroline pops her head up and makes a face behind his back.

Biting back a laugh, Tanis says, “Sorry to cut this short but I am beat.” 

She hefts the doll up over her shoulder-- she’s not exactly lightweight, but no heavier than the big bags of flour she would drag out of the storeroom for her mom in the mornings.

“Can we count on catching another show tomorrow night?”

“Sorry, I’ve got to be on my way first thing in the morning. I’ve still got a long road ahead of me.”

“That early? You’re sure in a hurry to get out of dodge.”

There’s something strange about the way he says it. Tanis frowns. 

“I just like to get an early start. With that said, goodnight folks.”

She hustles Caroline upstairs and shuts the door tight behind them. The moment she does, the doll springs up, fully animated once more.

“That was great fun!”

Tanis huffs a laugh. “Yeah, I guess it was.”

--

Under the golden lamplight Tanis sorts her bounty of bronze and silver coins into neat piles. Tonight was a better night than most; the folks here aren’t exactly wealthy but with so little trade coming and going what coin they have hasn’t been going anywhere except perhaps into the hands of the bartender, who’s probably faring even better than she. 

After a moment’s deliberation she pushes a stack towards Caroline. It’s not quite an equal share but then, she reasons, what’s the doll going to spend it on anyway? Even so, the thought of keeping all the spoils to herself doesn’t sit well when Caroline’s certainly put in as much work.

“For me?” she asks.

“Yup. You did good tonight and no one suspected a thing. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

Caroline, if possible, looks even more joyed than is her default state. “I won’t!” 

She then tips back her head and pours her earnings down her throat. Tanis can’t claim to understand the creature, but whatever makes her happy.

“I’m ready to turn in. What do you wanna do about this… whole arrangement here?” she asks, yawning as she nods towards the bed.

“Not to worry! I don’t require sleep, nor desire it. If you need me I shall be in your instrument case.”

Her brow wrinkles with a frown. “You sure? It looks like kind of a squeeze.”

“I’m used to resting in boxes. Frankly I prefer it. I suppose you could say it’s in my nature.”

“Whatever floats your boat.” She sheds her outerwear, stripping down to tank top and boxers. The weather’s due to turn before she makes it to Bigge, she thinks; might be worth it to invest in a real coat, maybe some nice thick socks. “‘Night, Caroline.”

“Goodnight, Ms Tanis!”

She puts out the light and closes her eyes. Sleep comes easy, tired as she is, and as dreamlessly as it has been ever since that fateful final show. Nothing short of a new apocalyptic event could get her up once she begins to drift, which is why she’s unpleasantly surprised to find herself awake not a few hours later. That, and the gun barrel tucked underneath her chin.

“God, this better be good,” she groans as the bliss of well-earned rest leaves her.

In the dark she can’t make out the figures standing around her bed. She reaches for the lamp and the shotgun at her throat cocks a warning.

“If you’re here to rob me, couldn’t it at least wait until morning.”

“We don’t want your money, hellspawn,” a voice rasps.

“Well,” says a second. “I wouldn’t say no to--”

“Shut it!”

Tanis recognizes the voices now. The monster hunters, Phil and Jonah, and she’d bargain that’s Luanne hanging back blocking the door.

“What’d I do to you guys? You didn’t like the music or something?”

“Quiet!” Phil shouts. “I knew there was something off about you the moment I saw you, so I decided to do a little investigating. Why don’t you say it again, how ‘no one suspected a thing’.” He gives her another jab with the cold metal of the barrel. “Who were you talking to, all alone in your room? Ain’t nobody here. What devils do you answer to, you traitoring rat?”

Tanis puts up her hands. “Whoa whoa whoa, I think you’ve got the wrong impression of me.”

“I said quiet!”

“You asked me a question.”

Phil continues, “You’re not a monster, not all the way through anyhow, I can tell. But you’re not all the way human neither. I can see it in your eyes. Empty eyes. And that doll of yours, that’s your familiar, isn’t it?”

“Are you gonna let me answer this time or--”

He smacks her hard across the face. She hisses in pain-- that sensation certainly hasn’t run empty.

“You’re a traitor to your own kind, bringing that darkness in past our walls. But now at least we got that live bait we’ve been missing.”

There’s a sudden sound of movement, a scraping against the bare floor from across the room that makes Tanis’ aggressors freeze. It’s Luanne who breaks the tense silence.

“Uh, fellas? What was that?”

On cue, Caroline rises from her makeshift bed with the gravitas of a movie vampire awakening from its crypt. Tanis should’ve expected she’d be the type to relish in dramatics. She cocks her head, surveying the scene around her, and then without further preamble grabs the closest person-- poor unlucky Jonah-- and thrusts him out of her way as casually as if she were rearranging the furniture, crashing him into Luanne and sending them both into the wall.

“No more songs tonight,” she says cheerfully. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Luanne staggers and pushes the young man off of her, thrusting a large hunting knife in the monster’s direction. “Get back, creep!”

“Silly billy, knives are dangerous. Not to me, of course, but to you.” 

She knocks the blade out of her hand. Jonah drops his own weapon before she has the chance, his hands trembling too hard to keep his grip.

“Hey!” Phil barks. Caroline’s head swivels towards him. “Maybe I can’t hurt you, but I can sure hurt your master here.”

He grabs her chin and presses his thumb to her swollen lip, swiping up a drop of blood. 

“If it bleeds, you can kill it,” he murmurs under his breath like a mantra. 

“Silly,” Caroline repeats, taking a step closer. “That’s not my master, that’s Ms Tanis!”

The hunter’s eyes move frantically back and forth, from the doll to the woman. He affects a false bravado and demands, “Then who- who do you answer to, monster?”

“Oh he’s quite dead,” she replies. “I killed him!”

Before he can react, a hand shoots out and grips the man’s neck. His companions, recovering some nerve, shout and grab at her from either side. Their combined weight unbalances the dainty doll but, with her grip unrelenting, she takes their leader with her. His finger locks on the trigger but the panicked shot goes wide. A chorus of frightened screams sounds from outside-- the manager and another couple guests that had gone to fetch her when they heard the sounds of a fight.

Tanis leaps from her bed to wrestle the larger man off of Caroline. The other two have her arms pinned down and for a moment she goes very still, but as Jonah leans in to investigate, a bizarre whining noise sounds from deep in the doll’s throat and a stream of coins begin to shoot out of her mouth. Jonah screams and falls backward clutching his face, Luanne soon to follow.

“What demon do you serve!” Phil howls. 

Tanis grimaces as spittle flies into her face. “You are really stuck on that, huh?”

She grunts and puts all her strength into shoving the man over, cracking his head against the nightstand. 

“I don’t fucking serve anybody.” She spits. “Asshole.”

When the manager finally gets the door open, the scene is not a charitable one. There’s a man unconscious on the floor with a probable broken nose, his friends scrambling for the door in terror, a bullethole in the ceiling, while the traveler and her seven foot living wind-up toy stand amidst the chaos.

“Okay, I can explain.”

“Is that blood,” the manager deadpans, going pale.

Indeed a sizable puddle has formed around Phil’s head where he lies. Tanis sucks in a breath through her teeth.

“I didn’t mean to hit him that hard,” she mutters under her breath. “I mean, he deserved it, but still.”

She nudges him with her foot and hears a faint, gurgling groan.

“No worries, he’s still alive.”

“I don’t care about that!” hisses the manager. “Shut the window, fool! Monsters can smell fresh blood from miles away!”

Tanis looks to Caroline as if to say, Did you know about this? Caroline shrugs.

“I think that’s just a myth.”

There’s a loud, guttural shriek from somewhere outside the inn, followed by the shuck shuck shuck of claws piercing the walls, coming rapidly closer. A toothsome muzzle crams its way through the window and starts snapping blindly at the air. The onlookers scatter, and even Tanis has the wherewithal to leap back and out of the way of those grasping jaws. It sniffs wolfishly and a long barbed tongue protracts from its maw, flopping onto the floor.

“Geez louise,” Tanis remarks. “Just can’t catch a break tonight. Caroline, can you, I dunno, talk that thing down?”

“I shall try!” 

She walks over to where the creature’s head remains stuck in the window. 

“Pardon me, but you are being very disruptive and I--”

The monster’s tongue lashes out and smacks her in the face. It probes into her exposed socket and, apparently deciding that whatever the doll has in place of blood is good enough, begins straining to pull her into its mouth. Tanis yanks her away just in time.

“Oh dear, that was not very polite.”

“Why’s it wanna hurt you? You’re a monster too!”

“You’re a human, and those other humans were hurting you.”

“Huh. Fair enough.”

The wooden panels around the window begin to strain dangerously as the bloodsucker starts to push through.

“Okay, we gotta go.” She rushes to collect her things and then, with a sigh, grabs onto Phil’s unconscious body to drag him out of the room. “Help me pull.”

Caroline does so, but not before asking, “Are we rescuing this man? Even though he wanted to hurt you and called you nasty names?”

“Yeah,” she huffs. “It kind of sucks, but that’s just what people do.”

Together they drag Phil into the hallway and slam the door behind them, though it’s anyone’s guess how long it’ll hold. Hopefully the pool of blood will keep the creature occupied for a short time while the other guests evacuate. Luckily there are few of them, so a short time is just enough.

Drawn out by the commotion, townspeople begin to pour out of their homes and into the street. In the chaos and confusion, nobody seems to notice the traveler and her doll fleeing the scene. 

Tanis makes a beeline for the gate. “I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I’m ready to get the hell out of dodge.”

“Will they be safe?” asks Caroline.

Tanis stops and stares at her. “What?”

“With that large bitey fellow on the loose? Will the audience be alright?”

It’s hard to divine much emotion from Caroline’s wooden features, but in this moment Tanis can tell she’s being sincere. 

“Why do you care about something like that?”

“It’s a good entertainer’s responsibility to make sure the audience is happy.” 

She points at the crowd that’s forming in the town square: a handful of soldiers-- if they can even be called as much-- with their meager armory of shotguns and spears and some assorted farm tools, and the huddled mass of paralyzed civilians trying to think of where to run to. Many are still recovering from the last attack of this kind. They don’t have the means to defend themselves the way they need, nor to flee the way they should, and the resident monster hunters are either unconscious or god-knows-where.

“They don’t look very happy.”

“What am I supposed to do about that? No, really, Caroline. If you’ve got an idea, I’m all ears. Just because I’m fearless doesn’t mean I’m suicidal.”

The doll seems to think on this for a moment before she simply says, “Turn my key.”

Tanis gives her a dubious look. “The key that makes you act like even more of an evil Looney Toon? The last time I did that you kinda tried to kill me.”

“I did not! I wanted to keep you from the danger.” She actually sounds offended at the accusation. “I wanted to keep you safe in my circus forever. I couldn’t understand why you would want to go out into the big scary world, where people are unkind and ever so unhappy.”

She doesn’t frown necessarily, but she hangs her head, one lonesome blue eye staring into her own. 

“But when you sing, you make people happy. When you make them happy, you are happy too. I do not think you want to run away.”

Tanis watches Caroline. She listens to her speak. She groans, frustrated to realize that, against all odds, the big goofy clown doll is right. “Turn around.”

Caroline claps her hands with glee as Tanis grips her key, still faintly tacky to the touch. She turns it once, twice, thrice, until she can’t turn it anymore. The doll spins around with a revitalized sort of glow and begins bounding towards the beast as it bursts through the wall of the building. 

What else is there for Tanis to do? She follows after her. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, this is the greatest show on what’s left of earth!”

A spotlight shines from nowhere, brilliantly illuminating the daring dancer. As the soldiers’ weapons glance ineffectually off the bloodsucker’s hide, Caroline overtakes them and kicks it square across the face, causing the beast to stagger a few steps backwards. 

At her command, a swarm of chattering windup dolls appear out of the night. Spectral and red-eyed, they pile their porcelain bodies on top of the ravenous creature. When crushing one knee-high nuisance doesn’t yield any blood or ichor, it hisses its displeasure and tosses the rest off. It stomps and snaps them until they return to nothingness, but the attack disorients it, enough for Caroline to gain the definitive upperhand. 

She seizes it by the scruff, wrenches its mouth open, and rips out its long propping tongue. The beast howls in ear-splitting pain, more of that syrupy dark substance dripping from its fanged mouth. Caroline pulls the tongue taught in her hands and cracks it against the creature’s forepaw like a whip. She faces the townsfolk.

“And now, a spectacle unlike you’ve ever seen! The dancing doll tames the ferocious beast!”

She evades another snap of its jaws and climbs atop its back, straddling it and wrapping its own tongue around its meaty neck. The monster begins to rear back, swiping at the doll with its claws. Those grasping paws, clever enough to scale walls, find purchase on her leg.

“Uh oh!” the doll remarks.

It flings her to the ground.

“Caroline!” Tanis yells. “Just kill it already!”

“Oh but where’s the fun in that?” 

Nevertheless, she pulls back her free leg and jabs her heel into one beady black eye with a gruesome squelching noise.

“Now, for my final trick, I’ll make this rude fellow disappear!”

The mystical spotlight goes out, in fact every light in town goes out, and from somewhere Tanis can hear the sound of a drumroll. When the lights return, the monster has indeed vanished, replaced by a pile of ichorous innards which have been strewn about the town square. A few members of the “audience” begin to retch.

“Ta-da!”

It’s probably not the reception she was hoping for, but there’s one person in the crowd clapping. The fantastic dancing doll takes a sweeping bow, more gore sloughing off and onto the cobblestone below.

--

“So that’s a town we can never go back to.”

Caroline pouts, as much as she can. “I thought it was a lovely show.”

Tanis shrugs. “You can’t please everybody.”

She’s back on the road, strumming a few notes on her guitar as she walks along. She’d offered to hold onto it so Caroline could have some more wiggle room as she rode along on her back. The extra baggage wasn’t exactly ideal, but despite single-handedly taking down a monster twice her size, traversing wide open spaces still made the doll nervous after so long spent confined to one place. It was the least she could do for her, she figured.

Besides being a real powerhouse when it comes to fighting humans and other monsters alike, Caroline had become an invaluable addition to Tanis’ little traveling act. She made more than twice the tips as she usually did when Caroline was dancing along to her songs. Everyone was always so perplexed: how did she make that doll move like that? It was almost like she was alive!

Yeah, almost. She snickers to herself. 

“Are you thinking of a joke? May I hear it?”

“Nah, just getting lost in my own head again,” she says. 

Privately, there’s another reason she’s glad to have kept Caroline by her side. It’s strange, she thinks, to have found a companion in a creature like her. A friend, even.

“Where will we be touring next, Ms Tanis?”

“For now we just keep heading east.” She glances back at the doll. Her head is poking out of the case, watching her again. It’s probably a good thing she’s physically incapable of finding that as creepy as it undoubtedly is. Instead, she just shoots her a sideways grin and says, “You know, you don’t have to keep calling me ‘miss’. Just Tanis is fine.”

“Okay, Ms Just Tanis!”

“Oh so she’s got jokes.”

“I know lots of jokes. What’s big and grey with lots of great big horns?”

“I don’t know but I hope it’s not following us.”

“An elephant marching band!”

God, that was terrible. “Ha. Good one, Caroline.”

“I know more!”

“Why don’t you hold onto those for now. Wouldn’t want to waste ‘em all on me before you’ve got a proper audience.”

“I will, but not because it would be a waste. Even if I was to never have another show, I should enjoy telling them to you very much.”

It’s quiet for a while after that, and Tanis, more than used to the solitude, has almost forgotten about her passenger until she pipes up once more.

“Ms- Pardon me, Tanis. What’s that tune you’re playing?”

Without hardly noticing Tanis’ hands have been feeling out the shape of a familiar melody, a slow and sentimental thing.

“Ah, it’s just this old country song I used to practice with a lot when I was still just learning. It’s funny, I can’t actually remember the last time I played it. I wanted to be a rockstar for so long, you know. But then once I was on my own again, after everything, it’s these sort of songs I ended up coming back to.”

She expects Caroline to request something more cheery, but she merely settles her head against her shoulder and lapses back into silence. For the first time since that night Tanis finds herself thinking of what the peculiar doll had told her. She had said that her singing made people happy. What did that mean for someone like her who was always happy anyway? Or seemed to be, that is.

Does my singing make you happy, Caroline? Is that the real reason you started following me? 

Softly, uncertain as the kid at her first audition she could barely remember being, Tanis lets her voice rise.

“This world is not my home

I'm just passing through

My treasures are laid up

Somewhere beyond the blue…”