It’s Day 2 of the #marchmadness, hosted by the @freewritehouse, and the writing I’m about to share was created within an hour of zoom-writing. My son went to bed, I waited for his snores to sound, then I let my typing fingers fly free in a flurry of semi-freewrite!
I had absolutely no time today, and I expect the same tomorrow. Weekends have become crazy. Ack! (Who decided that March should begin riiiight on a weekend this year? Seriously. 😉 )
Also, I made an error because I live in the future. I should’ve just stuck with the — grass — prompt yesterday instead of trying to utilise the official Day One prompt, because… I live in the future!! So today, I used — in the club — again.
Will be able to get back on track with the prompts tomorrow now, yay!
I’m hoping on Monday I’ll be able to catch up with my numbers and get on par, but for the time being, here’s my count:
Today’s Wordcount: 1233
Total Wordcount: 2764
‘See you in the club,’ Sebastian had said. That was easier said than done.
Harclyffe, though a blood-lusting sadist, had an eye for the eye-raising and had transformed the entire bottom floor of the old town-hall into a dance-floor like no other. It was especially amazing considering that no electricity was used —indeed, they hadn’t had such a luxury since the Event first befell them. Henry grimaced, vaguely remembering how glorious it was to stand beneath a hot and steamy shower, then steadied himself, quick to forfeit that which no longer mattered as he shoved past a hundred teenagers indulging in a music not of their time, for their last and only time.
Similar baubles to those that had first greeted the ‘guests’ drifted about the ceiling, each one emanating a series of flashing lights that boasted every imaginable colour and created the illusion of several strobe effects all happening at once. Even though he had experienced this bizarreness every crescent moon for the last twenty odd years, it was something he would never get used to. The simple single strobe lights of the days of before were enough to discombobulate him —this was akin to a nightmare… akin? No, that’s exactly what it was, even without the lights.
The high-pitched vocals intensified and the thumping bass heaved the tiles he stood upon, the marble squares as waves beneath his feet, and surfing through the dancing kids he at last reached the small area of stable ground where a banquet waited for hungering hands. A feast that served as their last meal.
He glanced over his shoulder, both grateful and disgusted as he saw Harclyffe’s bulbous head lowering itself towards the uplifted face of a girl barely older than fifteen. They are all doomed, anyway, he reminded himself as he turned back to the poisoned food he had helped create and waited for Sebastian’s signal, whatever it may be.
Sebby hadn’t exactly enlightened him about what was going down this night, but Henry didn’t particularly care. All that mattered was that they had a window of time in which they could escape, that they had the opportunity to actually utilise it, and that Harclyffe would no longer be able to fuel his damned machine. There was another so-called ‘wizard’ in the old city of Hervey Bay that Seb had somehow got into contact with —another balloon-headed freak— and he’d apparently convinced him to take them on. Though Henry would prefer to just live out the rest of his days in the overgrown wastes and not have to deal with these magical mutants, he also knew that it was impossible. And surely this freak would be better than the current one, even if he wanted the damned diamond in trade for their lives. Diamonds made the world go ’round, after all, especially ones that powered ancient machines.
Leaning against the table, he narrowed his eyes at a crimson streak on the floor. It seemed that the girl Harclyffe was currently smooching with wasn’t the first this night. Where the hell was Sebastian and his signal?
The whining tones of the high-pitched woman came to an end and was swiftly replaced with a bastardised version of 50 Cents’ In Da Club. If someone had told him twenty years ago that he’d still be forced to listen to this shit today, he would’ve punched them in the throat. If the Bay’s freaky creepy wizard-man had a penchant for luring the impressionable youth into his parlour with tunes from the ages, he hoped that the man at least had decent taste in music. Treat the kids to some rock or something before treating them to their demise! There was no place for kindness these days.
Sebastian’s unmistakable blonde hair bobbed up and down in time with the music as he sauntered across the floor and navigated the high surf of the marble tiles with an ease Henry didn’t own, his movements roboticised by the endless and painful strobe effects as he left the bulk of the dancing bodies and sidled up against the window beside the now-locked entrance. A woman stood on the other side of the window, appearing to both watch over the crowd and listen to Seb’s words, and Henry raised an eyebrow. Had she been standing there the whole time? Though there was a fair distance between them and a million cursed lights distorting his vision, he was certain that she was their age and not another awestruck teenager. She held herself with a distinct air of confidence and regality that no child could muster —a demeanour unseen for such a long time —and as both her eyes and Seb’s landed on his, he knew that it was time. Freedom awaited, even if it wasn’t quite the signal he expected.
He had known Seb since their kindergarten years and was quite aware of the flamboyant displays he could be capable of —he was the type of guy who always sought the limelight and would have benefited greatly if the solar majesty had imbued him instead of a portly trolley boy, but then, maybe he would have transformed into a psychopath too. Who could tell? Would he, himself, be any different? They all held inner darknesses yearning to be freed, or perhaps he had just grown cynical over the years.
Trying to maintain a nonchalance he did not feel, Henry strode over the shifting floors and made his way towards the pair, hoping that Harclyffe was sufficiently occupied. Not that he would care that three enslaved peons were huddled together, talking amongst themselves, but if he was telepathic —which he very well could be; it was a possibility that had been impossible to determine… Henry curbed his thoughts, instead focusing on trying to move through the strobing chaos.
“Took your time,” Sebastian smirked, fully aware of Henry’s distaste for nightclubs.
“Standing by an unknown woman is hardly a ‘signal,’ Henry retorted.
Seb raised an eyebrow, glanced at the woman, then returned his grin to Henry.
“She’s not the signal. The song was! ‘In Da Club’… we’re in the club… get it?”
Henry buried his head into his hands and took a deep breath. Sebastian was impossible sometimes. When he resurfaced, they were still both staring at him, Sebby with his smirk and the woman with an impatient glint to her green eyes. She tapped an elegant foot and swept a well-manicured hand through her golden locks, strands of hair that had no business being so perfect in this broken world, then huffed, “Sebastian tells me you have the diamond. There is no time for dramatics; Milord Loren is minutes away from breaking open this cesspool. Please tell me that you’re ready.”
The woman tilted her head and raised an ear, almost like a puppy dog listening to a sound that only she could hear.
“Are you ready?” she snapped, not responding to Henry’s question.
The implications suddenly weighed down upon him. The other wizard, balloon-headed freak, maniacal mutant, whatever! Was going to attack. This was their window. Their escape. Henry offered the impatient woman a small smile and nodded. He wouldn’t hold her attitude against her, not yet anyway.
Two solar-imbued freaks knocking their heads together? This was going to be spectacular. He almost wished he could stay to see it.