I'd Rather See You Dead
Act One. Introduction.
“Gather round, gather round! Ladies and gentlemen, come from far, come from wide... The moment you've all been waiting for! Tonight, join us as we explore the spine-chilling mystery of death… And the miracle of resurrection!”
He smiled at the loud applause of the audience that followed. It was time. Finally, it was his time.
* * *
Vic was gathering his things after the show. The surprised gasps and the screams of the crowd were still running through his skin like electricity, he was feeling full of adrenalin, so powerful, so clever. But what had he really done? He had tricked a bunch of fools. Well, yeah, a bunch of fools, who had given thirty dollars each to watch him play with their minds. Which only made them bigger fools. But was it worth it, really? Why was everyone so dying to find out more about… death?
Death… Something strangely attractive, seemingly distant and almost unattainable, but actually so very real and dangerous, which always manages to be one step ahead of you, and at the same time right behind you. And still, people are so curious to know about it, they veil it in mystery and weird, dark, creepy charm. They are scared. They are all so scared. But they actually like being scared without realizing it, they’re addicted, they want more and more… Human minds are always so hungry for mysteries. Vic’s job was only to feed them, until they simply come back, asking for more.
His hand now unconsciously traced the scar on his chest, where the knife had stabbed him two years ago. An accident. It was all an accident. But was it really? What actually happened back there? Vic’s mind drifted back to that moment. He could almost see her again, smiling at the audience, playing with the knife in her hands, throwing it in the air and catching it again. It was all a distraction, but the fools were tracing her movements, amazed, slightly nervous, but eager to find out what’s next. And then… She turned to him, and there was this strange hatred, this… freezing cold in her eyes. That was the last thing he saw before the pain blinded him and the confusion completely clouded his mind.
It was all an accident…
…But Vic knew it wasn’t.
He closed his briefcase and left the rest of the props there, on stage. He didn’t need them. They were pretty much useless, distraction, it’s all a distraction… In his briefcase, though, he kept the secrets of his tricks, and he didn’t want anyone else to have it, so he kept it with him 24/7.
When Vic went out of the building it had started raining again. He frowned slightly, but he actually enjoyed rain – it was always a nice disguise, because basically everyone was hurrying for somewhere, staring at their feet, and they didn’t take time to concentrate on looking at his face. On stage, Vic had the amazing ability to keep people’s attention, but here, on the street, he preferred to remain unnoticed. As a magician, it was a very valuable quality to be able to blend in whenever you want to, without actually changing your appearance.
He looked up at the sky and after a second an umbrella had appeared into his hand. No, he didn’t simply pull it out, it just… came out of nowhere, from the thin air. Vic smirked. Magic? Not really. Just skilful hands, so used to “vanish” and “appear” things. And soon he had become a part of the thick forest of other umbrellas, just a passer-by in a crowd of other passers-by.
Lost in thought, he crossed the street. Hell, he needed a coffee, a strong one, even though it was probably a bit too late for that and he’d have trouble sleeping later. He had the habit to practice late and end up completely exhausted. Not a good habit, indeed. Stifling a yawn, Vic decided to call a cab instead of walking to the hotel.
What do you see when you walk down the street? Traffic lights? Cars? People? What Vic saw was ideas. Thousands of unrealized ideas, produced by fools, who don’t know what to do with them. He never understood other people. Perhaps because they were… normal. They had their normal, boring lives, they didn’t have to live under the highlights of fame, they didn’t need to play a role the whole time. Damn, Vic had to play a few hundred different roles at once, he barely knew who he really was anymore. He had the feeling that all this acting was slowly erasing his own personality.
Gather round, gather round…
A taxi finally stopped. Vic smiled a bit as his umbrella disappeared just as quickly as it had shown up, and he sneaked inside the car.
“Good evening.”
…Ladies and gentlemen, come from far, come from wide… The moment you’ve all been waiting for…
“Hey.”, Vic shyly replied, smiling a bit at the driver. Why did he have to be always so awkward in normal social situations? Once he stopped hiding behind his fake arrogance and self-confidence he had built up for the audience, he became just a quiet guy, barely noticed by the others.
After he told him his address, the taxi drove off.
…Tonight! Join us as we explore the spine-chilling mystery of death…
He yawned again and stretched his arms. Ugh, all that practice and the preparations were getting the best of him. ‘I swear, he thought for a hundredth time as he rested his head against the window, this show will be the death of me.’ Only a few more performances. Only a few more and he’d be done. Soon…
Vic had almost fallen asleep, when he felt the car stop. He opened an eye to see where they were. Was it possible to arrive this quickly? For how long had they traveled, actually?
“Hey. Time to go, pal.”, a rough voice completely got me out of my sleepy condition. “That’s the address, right?”
Victor pushed his hair back and looked out of the window. “Yeah…”, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s it, sorry.” He glanced at the small screen, which showed the price, then reached and pulled a bill out of the driver’s ear, or at least it looked like he did it. “Here ya go.”
Oh, the look on his face. Priceless. Vic allowed himself a grin.
“Keep the change. Have a nice evening.”
“But… How… Who…”, the driver cast him a quite confused, but interested look in the mirror. Ah, the confusion. The biggest reward for the good illusionist. Vic stopped with the door half-open.
“Vic Fuentes. Magician, of sorts.”, he introduced himself with a smirk and handed the driver his card. “I have a show tomorrow evening, you can come watch it if you want. Just, let me warn you… my performance is a bit different than the others, it might leave you a bit… thoughtful.”
Then, before the man could reply, Vic went out, opening the vanishing umbrella once more. Still with the smile on his face, he inhaled from the cool, but quite polluted air of Seattle, then headed to the door.
…and the miracle… of resurrection!
END OF ACT 1.
He smiled at the loud applause of the audience that followed. It was time. Finally, it was his time.
* * *
Vic was gathering his things after the show. The surprised gasps and the screams of the crowd were still running through his skin like electricity, he was feeling full of adrenalin, so powerful, so clever. But what had he really done? He had tricked a bunch of fools. Well, yeah, a bunch of fools, who had given thirty dollars each to watch him play with their minds. Which only made them bigger fools. But was it worth it, really? Why was everyone so dying to find out more about… death?
Death… Something strangely attractive, seemingly distant and almost unattainable, but actually so very real and dangerous, which always manages to be one step ahead of you, and at the same time right behind you. And still, people are so curious to know about it, they veil it in mystery and weird, dark, creepy charm. They are scared. They are all so scared. But they actually like being scared without realizing it, they’re addicted, they want more and more… Human minds are always so hungry for mysteries. Vic’s job was only to feed them, until they simply come back, asking for more.
His hand now unconsciously traced the scar on his chest, where the knife had stabbed him two years ago. An accident. It was all an accident. But was it really? What actually happened back there? Vic’s mind drifted back to that moment. He could almost see her again, smiling at the audience, playing with the knife in her hands, throwing it in the air and catching it again. It was all a distraction, but the fools were tracing her movements, amazed, slightly nervous, but eager to find out what’s next. And then… She turned to him, and there was this strange hatred, this… freezing cold in her eyes. That was the last thing he saw before the pain blinded him and the confusion completely clouded his mind.
It was all an accident…
…But Vic knew it wasn’t.
He closed his briefcase and left the rest of the props there, on stage. He didn’t need them. They were pretty much useless, distraction, it’s all a distraction… In his briefcase, though, he kept the secrets of his tricks, and he didn’t want anyone else to have it, so he kept it with him 24/7.
When Vic went out of the building it had started raining again. He frowned slightly, but he actually enjoyed rain – it was always a nice disguise, because basically everyone was hurrying for somewhere, staring at their feet, and they didn’t take time to concentrate on looking at his face. On stage, Vic had the amazing ability to keep people’s attention, but here, on the street, he preferred to remain unnoticed. As a magician, it was a very valuable quality to be able to blend in whenever you want to, without actually changing your appearance.
He looked up at the sky and after a second an umbrella had appeared into his hand. No, he didn’t simply pull it out, it just… came out of nowhere, from the thin air. Vic smirked. Magic? Not really. Just skilful hands, so used to “vanish” and “appear” things. And soon he had become a part of the thick forest of other umbrellas, just a passer-by in a crowd of other passers-by.
Lost in thought, he crossed the street. Hell, he needed a coffee, a strong one, even though it was probably a bit too late for that and he’d have trouble sleeping later. He had the habit to practice late and end up completely exhausted. Not a good habit, indeed. Stifling a yawn, Vic decided to call a cab instead of walking to the hotel.
What do you see when you walk down the street? Traffic lights? Cars? People? What Vic saw was ideas. Thousands of unrealized ideas, produced by fools, who don’t know what to do with them. He never understood other people. Perhaps because they were… normal. They had their normal, boring lives, they didn’t have to live under the highlights of fame, they didn’t need to play a role the whole time. Damn, Vic had to play a few hundred different roles at once, he barely knew who he really was anymore. He had the feeling that all this acting was slowly erasing his own personality.
Gather round, gather round…
A taxi finally stopped. Vic smiled a bit as his umbrella disappeared just as quickly as it had shown up, and he sneaked inside the car.
“Good evening.”
…Ladies and gentlemen, come from far, come from wide… The moment you’ve all been waiting for…
“Hey.”, Vic shyly replied, smiling a bit at the driver. Why did he have to be always so awkward in normal social situations? Once he stopped hiding behind his fake arrogance and self-confidence he had built up for the audience, he became just a quiet guy, barely noticed by the others.
After he told him his address, the taxi drove off.
…Tonight! Join us as we explore the spine-chilling mystery of death…
He yawned again and stretched his arms. Ugh, all that practice and the preparations were getting the best of him. ‘I swear, he thought for a hundredth time as he rested his head against the window, this show will be the death of me.’ Only a few more performances. Only a few more and he’d be done. Soon…
Vic had almost fallen asleep, when he felt the car stop. He opened an eye to see where they were. Was it possible to arrive this quickly? For how long had they traveled, actually?
“Hey. Time to go, pal.”, a rough voice completely got me out of my sleepy condition. “That’s the address, right?”
Victor pushed his hair back and looked out of the window. “Yeah…”, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s it, sorry.” He glanced at the small screen, which showed the price, then reached and pulled a bill out of the driver’s ear, or at least it looked like he did it. “Here ya go.”
Oh, the look on his face. Priceless. Vic allowed himself a grin.
“Keep the change. Have a nice evening.”
“But… How… Who…”, the driver cast him a quite confused, but interested look in the mirror. Ah, the confusion. The biggest reward for the good illusionist. Vic stopped with the door half-open.
“Vic Fuentes. Magician, of sorts.”, he introduced himself with a smirk and handed the driver his card. “I have a show tomorrow evening, you can come watch it if you want. Just, let me warn you… my performance is a bit different than the others, it might leave you a bit… thoughtful.”
Then, before the man could reply, Vic went out, opening the vanishing umbrella once more. Still with the smile on his face, he inhaled from the cool, but quite polluted air of Seattle, then headed to the door.
…and the miracle… of resurrection!
END OF ACT 1.
Notes
...I blame Now You See Me. But it's going to be nothing like it, at all, it's a totally different concept and storyline.Okay, so this is going to be a really short fic, only a few chapters long, three or four. The whole story is inspired by Currents Convulsive by Pierce the Veil, but I think I'll only feature Vic. Maybe Kellin will show up a bit, but he's not going to be a main character.
Also, this is not slash. Yeah. It's pretty different than what I've tried before, and I changed the POV.
It might start a little confusing, but it will get clear soon!
This is entirely creepy and intriguing and I want more, please?
1/2/14