Who knows how we will feel next week, but our recent round of polls lean toward our candidate winning the race at the polls. Both logic and superstition dictate that we shouldn’t celebrate prematurely, but when the hottest guy in the office offers to buy me a hot cocoa, I nod my head eagerly and grab my bag.
“So, Kate, what do you want?” He holds the door open for me and guides me to a table looking out onto the street.
“Surprise me.” I offer him a flirtatious smile before turning my attention back to a store across the street.
It still sports a festive and mildly creepy tableau of monsters I recognize and creatures I hope never to see again. I glance back at James, appreciating his self-confident swagger as he crosses over to the counter. The barista tosses back her hair and laughs at something he says. A part of me whispers of jealousy, but my eyes find their way back to the creatures watching me across the quiet street.
“Homo sapiens cedo belua.” James mumbles as he sets a piping hot mug before me.
“Huh?” I glance at him but find my eyes drawn back into the darkness.
“I hope you like this.” He winks as he places a mug on the table before me.
Wisps of warmth float off of the cup invitingly. I lean in to breathe in a hint of what awaits me. I grin as pumpkin spice tickles my nose and promises delight to my taste buds. Despite the draw of the tantalizing aroma, I can’t stop peering into the dimly lit window across the street. A creature in the window has caught my attention, hypnotizing me with immense, glassy, red eyes.
“Kate?” James rests his hand gently on mine for a second.
Pulled away from my contemplation of the winged monstrosity, I offer him a tentative smile. “What?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Fine.” I pick up my cup to take a sip.
“You sure?” He persists.
The aroma hasn’t misled me. My eyes close as the delicious flavors of chocolate, pumpkin spice, and vanilla whipped cream mingle on my tongue. As James continues to search my face intently, I feel compelled to assess why he is so concerned. I frown into my mug. I do feel a little odd, but I don’t want to admit that and ruin our first date. Instead of responding, I take another sip. I blink my eyes as flames seem to erupt through them.
“Kate?” James’ face pales as he rises from his chair. “Is there a doctor here?”
As he anxiously scans the roomful of people, focusing all their attention on me, I hide behind my beverage. This time I swallow a hefty dose of pumpkin love. Pain erupting in my shoulders pushes away all thought of my eyes. I fumble in my purse, shaking my hands to combat a peculiar sensation creeping up my fingers. The numbness persists, but I manage to extract an aspirin from the depths of purse, pop it in my mouth, and chase it with a warm chug of cocoa. As the cocoa and medicine slide down my esophagus, the world becomes pain. I squeal and close my eyes. My purse tumbles toward the floor and excited voices draw closer to the table.
A great whooshing sound flows around me, barely noticeable over the pain tearing my atoms apart to reconstruct them in a perfect image of suffering. Then, everything ends. No more voices. No more pain. No more friendly hands probing for ways to help. I take a breath and open my eyes.
I scream as I come face to face with the monstrosity across the street—so close I could touch it. Grey-blue feathers crown a round head with almost human features, except for large tusks protruding past the lips from the top and the bottom of a wide, silver-lined mouth. Fierce reds eyes peer into my soul, assuring me that they know everything about me, particularly my weaknesses. I shudder away from the creature, realizing it moves as I do, almost as if it fears me. As my eyes adjust, I realize why. The creature blinks with me, tilts its head to the right in consternation when I do, and opens its mouth to release a pained exclamation with me.
“My reflection?” I mumble, deciding not to speak again after hearing the screech of my voice.
I reach out to touch the glass, noting that two skinny arms rest beneath oversized wings that sprout from my shoulders. The wings flap as I peer out into the dark night in search of James and the other denizens of the coffee shop.
From this side of the street I see vague shadows through the coffee shop window. James waves his arms excitedly as he talks to two uniformed figures. Other shadowy figures nod in agreement as he points to the cup and my purse. I reach up to my shoulder, whimpering as feathers brush against each other. I know I cry, but the fine feathers on my cheek keep me from feeling them running down toward my rounded chin.
I watch people milling around the coffee shop. Before long the cops escort James from the shop. I gasp as they lead him to their patrol car and push his head down as he sinks into the backseat.
“At last,” a soft voice says at my side.
Other voices echo it. For the first time. I remember the other creatures in the window display. I slowly turn to peer at them. To my surprise, they gaze back at me with intelligent eyes. I gasp, too many questions whirring through my head to express.
“We were confused, too.” The soft voice addresses me from within a clump of matted fur at my feet. She stretches upward, so her coal dark eyes can peer into mine. “Until we realized James doesn’t want to share credit when our candidate wins.”
“Our candidate?” I lean in to peer into her eyes. “Gina?”
“No wonder he saved you for last. You are smarter than the rest of us.” She laughs sadly.
“I thought you had to help your sister?”
“Nope. I got a special brew from our fearless leader, James.”
“Yep.” Dracula mutters sadly around his fangs. “For me, it was black coffee?”
“George?” He nods and then shakes his head in the negative when I ask, “But your wife is sick?”
“Triple fudge latte with extra whipped cream.” The wolf man howls sadly. “And I didn’t abandon you for the opposition.”
“Plain hot chocolate…” Another bizarre bird creature caws. “And you didn’t even notice I disappeared.”
“Did James tell you that, John?” I ask. “He told us you had food poisoning. I assumed that meant you drank too much on Halloween night.”
He perks up at my recognition. “I guess I can’t be upset that you might make that assumption.”
“Water? How did he hide it in water?” A lithe python hangs her head in shame. “And how could you believe I ran off to marry a donor?”
“Some of those donors are very handsome, Jane.” I try to smile but realize such a thing isn’t be possible with my new face as she shies away from me.
“All you had to do was share your best ideas and “poof”, he added you to his window of shame.” Gina mutters.
“Probably shouldn’t have tried it the seventh time though…” Jane hisses.
“Even the police were smart enough to catch onto that.” Gina murmurs.
Despite our plight, which appears permanent, we share a laugh. Talking with beast mouths takes more energy than I expect, so we huddle together in miserable silence as night draws on. Soon the soothing sounds of my fellow monsters snoring lulls me to sleep.
A click and a bang pulls me back out of a disturbing dream. I turn my feathered head toward the door. I snarl as sore muscles awaken. A lanky man regards me from under scraggly dirty blond hair that hangs to his shoulders.
“What has my cousin done now?” He whispers softly as snarls, hisses, and waking sighs escape from my fellow monsters.
“Jamesss?” Jane questions.
The man hangs his head. “Yes. James is my cousin. Please don’t hold it against me.” He steps to the edge of the window and pulls a cord to close heavy, blue velvet curtains.
Fear rises up to choke me. From the sounds emitted by my companions, the same wariness overcomes them as the outside world disappears from view. The man turns to regard us with apologetic eyes. Then he straightens his shoulders and boldly declares.
“Belua cedo homo sapiens.”
“Hey, that sounds like…” I begin to say before a giant, invisible hand seals my mouth shut.
“I’m so sorry,” the man says, “The return to truth hurts more than becoming a monster.”
I throw both hands and wings over my ears to muffle the screams reverberating through window display. When the pain finally fades to a pale memory of every bone breaking as the monster melts into my familiar form, I slump weakly to the floor.
“I guess I should say 'thank you’,” John says from a nearby puddle of tortured human.
“I will get you some food and some better clothing,” the man doesn’t acknowledge the gratitude. “It is the least I can do for every trusting my ruthless cousin with arcane knowledge.”
He gazes at us with pleading in his eyes. I nod understanding, realizing he blames himself for this. As he disappears to grab supplies, we huddle together to decide what to do next.
~~~
Apparently, I felt my terrifying offering last week fell short of my “high-pitched scream” standards. Hopefully, anyone who got their pants scared off them was home alone or with people they don’t mind showing their skivvies to. In order to avoid real life horror stories, please vote responsibly next week…. Or “vote early and vote often” like one social studies teacher insisted on telling my grade school class.
Please forgive any grammatical errors. I am already behind on my word count, so my editing skills may not be fully on display with this one.
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