Volume 1: Proscenium

Issue 8: A Midsummer Night's Dream

Florian Reyes Honeywell

Written and illustrated by Roach

[https://helixverse.files.wordpress.com/2022/03/manticore.jpg?w=1024]

My feet hit the floor first. The planks gave in on impact. There was a thud, followed by a less violent thud, as my body slammed into concrete. I had fallen through the stage. A sharp pain ran through my left shin. A stench like a mix of cat piss, a neglected zoo enclosure, and rotten meat filled my nostrils. Dust clouded my vision.

See? the Queen said. You’re not as fragile as you look.

Her mocking tone sparked a fury in me. I knew that, considering the circumstances, there were more urgent things to worry about. Yet, I dismissed how disproportionate my reaction was to the insignificance of her insult. If I hadn’t been in the mood for her arrogance before, I definitely wasn’t now. Fueled by my anger, I sat up.

The motion came more naturally than expected. Although my muscles felt sore, they retained their mobility. But, as I struggled to get up on my feet, pain continued to pulsate through my leg. I slumped back down, then squinted through the dust. Soft light from the hole above me illuminated my problem. A piece of wood—about the length of my forearm—had splintered off the flooring. Now, it impaled my shin.

When I moved again, pain rippled out from the injury. Above, I heard an inhuman wail followed by shuffling footsteps. I peered through the hole of the stage. I could see where I had fallen from the catwalk, but the creature was out of sight.

“Fuck me.” How had the situation gone from manageable to out of hand in mere seconds? I reached out to the bee I had positioned on Camilo’s shoulder: Where are you? My urge to know was greater than my pain or my fear of knowing.

Accompanying human. Concealed. Up high, she informed me. Judging by her report, it sounded like Camilo was still invisible somewhere on the catwalk. Navigating the rotten stench, I pinpointed the source of her pheromones, confirming his location on the platform.

What do you see? I asked.

Enemy sighted. On the prowl. Not engaged in battle. Moving down. While I was relieved that Camilo had managed to stay hidden, dread overcame me when I realized the alternative. The creature was still pursuing me.

The Queen interrupted. Hive, focus.

What is it?

You must remove the wood, she said.

I tried to wrap my head around what she was asking of me. Isn’t that the opposite of what you’re supposed to do? I replied.

Not if you want my help, which it seems you sorely need.

I looked down at my leg again. She had been right before. The fall should have shattered my bones, if not just snapped my body altogether. I should not be able to move right now. Yet, the Queen had told me that the fall would save me. Save us. And here I was, not quite standing, but unmistakably alive.

But the problem remained; the piece of wood impaling my leg. Somehow the pain paled in comparison to the horror of falling—or at least, I thought that maybe that was why it didn’t hurt more. Still, it was far from painless. I gritted my teeth. My discomfort grew as I reached towards the wooden piece. As did the stench.

Leaning forward, I glimpsed something through the settling dust. On the ground, I saw a speck of white, about an arm’s length ahead of me. I stared. As my vision adjusted to the dark, I identified the object as bone. More specifically, a femur. I traced it with my gaze, to a fibula, then tibia… An old biology quiz came to mind as I recognized the different parts, but with a clarity I didn’t think I had for the actual quiz. Deeper into the shadows, I spotted another set of bones. The remnants of a pair of legs. They were porcelain white, picked clean of any flesh. Scratch marks etched the surface.

I had discovered Mr. Howells’ other half.

I recoiled at the sight, dismissing any pain. Without getting up, I scrambled backwards. When I did, my hand wrapped around something. I picked it up. It was another bone. I cried out. The sound quickly died as bees pushed up my throat. They sat there, poised on the back of my tongue, singing in a low hum. The last thing I wanted was to draw more attention to myself. If I didn’t come up with a course of action soon, the creature would beat me to it. As I stared at the pile of bones, they reflected my own demise.

The Queen’s voice grew increasingly frustrated. For the love of nectar, please stop cowering and remove the wood already. You can make this easier, or I can make it harder for you.

Before I had a chance to react to her threat, the panicked signal of Camilo’s bee interfered. Alert! Enemy gone. Alert! Blue light. Alert!

A crackling sound ensued. Blue light illuminated the underbelly of the theater stage, zigzagging like lightning. From its sparks, a feline silhouette emerged. Only the bones of Mr. Howells’ legs lay between me and the predator. Its lips drew back into a snarl, revealing curved fangs. Traces of blue light arced between the spikes growing from its back. The buzzing in my chest grew louder as more bees migrated up through my body.

I reached out to Camilo’s bee again. As if her apitoxins were my only lifeline, I ordered her to sting.

The stage’s low height forced the creature to a slight crouch. It slunk towards me. Bones clattered under its heavy paws.

I tore the donkey mask Camilo had given me off my face, then tossed it to the side. Bees burst through my mouth and ears. They squeezed out between my eyeballs and sockets, momentarily blinding me. I resisted my compulsion to stop the surge of bees pouring out of me—this was my last line of defense. My only release from the agony was in screaming. Before, I had only summoned fragments of the hive at a time. Now, the stream of bees was endless. Although they were always present in me, I had never fully realized how many of them were there. The swarm swelled with thousands upon thousands of bees. Their buzzing symphony smothered my screams.

Once a little over a half of the hive exited, I closed my mouth. I felt a strange hollowness. My throat was hoarse. I tried to blink away the searing pain. A few bees continued to trickle from my ears.

The swarm overwhelmed the creature with sheer numbers, forcing it to retreat with their stings. Its writhing form melted into the mass of bees. It hissed and snarled and snapped its teeth at nothing. They were numerous enough that I only saw flashes of its blue fur between their flitting shapes. The beast flailed its paws in the air, battering uselessly at the swarm. It produced the same blood-curdling wail as before.

Shaking, I seized the wooden piece lodged in my leg. Knowing that the pain wouldn’t compare to what I had just experienced, I ripped it out with the same casual attitude as I would remove a band-aid. It slid out with surprising ease, oiled by the honey inside of me. It left a hole through my jeans and the fleshy wax of my leg. A stream of bees emerged from the opening, gathering around the wound.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

See? the Queen said. Not so fragile. Now, get up.

As much as I wanted to rebel against her, the creature’s growls offered little choice. The swarm wouldn’t keep it occupied forever. I stood up, shifting my weight to my good leg. I sensed a strange absence in the gap through my shin. Tenderness replaced the initial pain.

A blue glimmer prompted me to look away from my leg and towards the monster again. Light flickered through the mass of bees. With a crack like thunder, the blue glow engulfed the creature. The innermost bees dropped like flies as light zapped through them. Then, the light contracted. The creature faded alongside it. It was gone. My swarm moved in disoriented circles around the space where it had been standing. A few sparks crackled in the air.

Where had the monster disappeared to? It looked as if it just dematerialized.

I didn’t plan on waiting for an answer. Instead, I reached towards the hole in the stage. The planks felt loose as I grabbed onto the edges. Just as I prepared to heave myself up, hoping the stage would hold this time, a hand appeared out of thin air. I recognized the black sleeve and glove as Camilo’s. The rest of him was invisible.

I took his hand. Although we were far from safe, relief washed over me, knowing that he was still with me. He pulled me up. I clambered onto the stage, where I staggered onto my feet. The wooden piece—smeared in my golden, saccharine, blood—remained gripped in my other hand.

“How are you still standing?” He raised his voice over the buzz of the bees. As he let go of me, his hand vanished again.

I looked down at my leg. Honeycombs formed in the hole through my shin. Although still numb, I had started to regain some feeling. A group of sanitation workers crawled in and out of the hexagonal cells. Using regurgitated wax, their tiny mandibles and claws deftly glued my skin back in place. I had observed the same behavior before with smaller injuries, such as my broken nail a couple of days ago, but nothing on this scale. “I don’t know.” My voice was so hoarse I could barely get the words out.

“I thought you…” Camilo stopped mid-sentence. Just as abruptly, he pushed me aside.

My injured leg struggled to keep its footing. As I stumbled, a cluster of projectiles shot through the planks where I had been standing. They had come from above. Narrow and pointed, they were shaped like long needles. Tilting my head back, I looked up. The hybrid creature stood balanced on the middle catwalk above us. As it lashed its tail back and forth, I noticed that some of its spines were missing. The ones that remained on its back matched the projectiles which had whizzed past me.

The muscles of its hind legs rippled as it leaped into the air. It made it to the stage curtain, where it dug its claws into the red fabric. The claws raked down the curtain, slowing down the creature’s descent. The porcupine-like quills on its back trembled slightly. I dodged behind the closest cardboard cutout of a tree. The projectiles shot out of its back, then through the floor where I had just been standing.

Follow me, I beckoned the swarm. Bees filtered through the hole of the stage. But before they could reach me, the creature beat them to it. It knocked over the cutout tree. I ran around the prop, trying not to become trapped beneath it. Instead, I found myself face to face with the feline.

Its paws slammed against my chest, pinning me to the ground. I grunted as my head banged against the stage. A rush of adrenaline coursed through me. I struggled against its grip while its claws sunk deeper into my skin. It hissed in my face, its mouth reeking of rotten meat. Up close, I saw that it had—not one—but three rows of teeth, all huge and sharp. The bees’ buzzing grew louder as they closed in on us, but only a few had caught up to the creature—nowhere near enough to overwhelm it again. It whipped them away with its tail. I no longer had the element of surprise.

Within a second, I disappeared. I couldn’t see the tip of my nose or stray locks of golden hair. As I peered into the predator’s slitted pupils, nothing reflected back at me. Although my hands were gone, I could still feel them–one pushing against the creature’s muscled body, while the other held onto the wooden piece.

I was invisible.

My sudden disappearance was enough to make the creature hesitate. The nostrils widened each time it drew in air. The foul stench of its breath triggered my gag reflex. Its long, tufted, ears perked, but the creature continued to sniff the air cautiously. Had Camilo been able to erase my scent? What about sounds? Nevertheless, its paws rested on top of me, holding me down. Although its eyes moved back and forth in puzzlement, it appeared to understand that I was still somewhat there. Its claws dug deeper, as if exploring my presence.

I tightened my fist around the wooden piece. I raised my hand. While I couldn’t properly see where I was aiming, I made my best estimate, targeting its throat. With more strength than I knew I had, I thrust the wood towards it. Just then, the creature turned its head, still searching for my invisible form with its gaze. For a brief moment, I stared into its dilating pupil. Then, the stake plunged into its eye.

The feline reared backwards. Its snarl turned into a cry. The theater walls, built to carry voices, held onto the haunting sound. It pawed at the wood lodged in its face, only to wince in pain. The wood remained stuck. The creature spun around, thrashing furiously. More cutout trees were knocked over on its rampage. The spines on its back, which had started regrowing, fired off into the auditorium. But without any intent or aim, they only tore through the empty seats.

Words appeared in front of me. Stick to plan A, Camilo’s message hovered in the air. We had only come up with two plans: lure it under the moon lamp. Or run. I didn’t see either panning out. We had lost control of the situation from the very beginning, and I couldn’t tell exactly how much of plan A was still intact. Then again, how would we ever outrun something that could teleport?

The creature skidded to a halt. It trained its one eye onto the silhouette of a boy, while magenta blood trickled like tears from the other. When I turned invisible, Camilo had re-emerged in the shadow of the unlit moon lamp.

Attack. I directed the swarm—now fully relocated above the stage—towards the creature. Meanwhile, the monster bounded after Camilo.

Within a split second, I turned visible again. Simultaneously, my classmate split into two. The two versions of him mirrored each other perfectly. His doppelgängers then ran in opposite directions. Without hesitating, the creature veered off towards one of them. My swarm chased closely behind, but while the creature was at a sprint, they were unable to do more than land the occasional sting on its hindquarters and legs.

I hoped that it was going after the illusion, and not the real Camilo. I tried to locate the bee on his shoulder. Amidst the mingling pheromones of the frantic swarm, I couldn’t isolate her signal anymore. I had no idea which Camilo was the real one and which was the illusion. The creature continued to chase one of them around the stage. At the same time, the other Camilo ran up the stairs to the catwalk. The entire time, he looked down towards the stage.

I placed myself at the edge of the stage, where I would be able to take cover in the auditorium—in case the creature changed its mind and went after me again. From my new position, I observed the swarm, still in pursuit. The doppelgänger chased by the creature changed his course, now heading for the center of the stage. He stumbled as the creature batted at his legs. He fell face first. Claws pinned him down. The creature roared, although with less conviction now than before. Attack, I ordered the swarm again, reinforcing my pheromones in a desperate attempt to help him. Now that the creature had stopped its chase, the bees gained ground.

Then, centerstage, the shadow of the giant moon lamp trembled slightly. I looked up at the catwalk. At the same time, the rope holding the lamp snapped. The untethered moon—almost matching the creature in size—crashed towards the stage. Right towards the monster.

It landed right on top of it, exploding into hundreds of glass shards on impact. The bees dispersed as the shattered pieces fired off in every direction. I used my arms to shield my face, but I was standing far enough away that only a few reached the tips of my shoes. When I dared look up again, the creature had collapsed onto the floor. Broken pieces of the moon prop surrounded it, like a hatched egg. Camilo was nowhere to be seen.

I looked up to the catwalk. There, Camilo stood, where the moon had been hanging. I was too far away to make out his expression, but the only thing I cared about was that it was the real him. Not only had he been able to lure the creature into position, but he had also landed the hit.

I was stunned.

I only started moving again as a group of bees gathered around me. I needed to make sure that it was over.

I treaded towards the fallen monster, careful not to step on any of the glass. As I got closer, I saw that its chest continued to rise and fall. The movement was irregular. I stood still, waiting a few seconds to see if it would stir. It didn’t. I walked right up to it, pushing aside a moon fragment with my foot. As I did, I realized that the hole in my shin had fully closed. I no longer felt any pain—the bees had finished repairing the injury.

I leaned towards the creature’s face. Now that it wasn’t attacking me, I was struck by its odd beauty. While each part of it seemed familiar to me individually, the combination of different animal traits created something distinct, unlike anything else I’d ever seen. The pieces didn’t appear forced together either. Instead, there was a seamless transition between its lynx-like face, tiger form, and the porcupine spines growing from its back and tail. Its striped fur gleamed a lustrous blue under the stage lights. I wrapped my fingertips around the piece of wood, which still penetrated its eye. Its unearthly, magenta blood trickled down to its chin. The other eye was closed, as if asleep. I let my hand rest on the wood for a moment longer, admiring the creature. Then I pushed.

The stake sunk deeper into its skull. Air left its lungs, hissing softly through its parted lips.

It lay still at my feet.