Surrounding the restroom door and blocking any possible means of my escape, were about fifteen people. I had never seen any of them before so I could safely conclude that they were most likely outsiders.
"Uh," I decided to play clueless. "What do you guys think you are doing? Ha ha, I mean, is this a prank or something? Where the fuck did y'all come from?" I tried to feign a nervous laugh but it came out sounding like a goat bleat. Comically so, that a few of them cringed. From their midst, Tiana emerged, looking matronly in all her fat glory and beckoning smile that somehow hid her already small eyes inside crinkled caves.
"Ho, oi! Give the lady some space! Take some more steps backwards. Oi! That's too far you moron, come a bit closer. Moron that's too close! You might as well jump on her and be done with it."
Well? Suffice to say, her tone did not match the matron aesthetics. She turned to me. Her smile was taking a while new nature when she showed brown crooked teeth. Perhaps it may be because I had already concluded in my mind that she and her crew had villainous intentions. But she now had the affront to attain an aura that would remind any sane person of the witch that gave snow-white the poisoned apple. I opened and closed my mouth repeatedly, utterly stumped for words. My social status had not sufficiently prepared me for dealing with suspicions folks while being suspicious at the same time. If it had, I probably wouldn't have died and Ara wouldn't be gone and Gimmel wouldn't be here and I wouldn't be annoyingly and consistently be mistaken for Fluorescent.
"Ahem, dearie. You look a frightful mess." Tiana put on an air of awkwardness. In my opinion, there was no way she could ever succeed in the roleplaying of an amicable hostess. The woman entered my personal space and grabbed my upper arms with big thick cold chummy fingers. I felt like flabby sausages had been pressed to my skin and it took nearly all in me to stifle a shudder of revulsion. "Did anything happen? Was there some complication? Why are you covered in dirt?"
I had to be cunning in the conjuring of my lie, taking into consideration that these people thought I was my sister who might be in leagues with them. It was surely a Lycan cult, worshippers of werewolves. How much did they know about us? And how did they find out? Did my reliable charismatic sister who should be on top the campaign of disguising our existence tell them? Did they know that she was werewolf?
"By the goddess, what did you do to your hair?" one of the others chimed up.
"You said they'd be a city ball tonight which you'll attend," said another. "You can't go looking like this. You look absolutely horrendous."
"You may be popular and all but you won't be let near the werewolves looking like that. And your beautiful hair, suddenly short. How could you do this to yourself?"
"I just thought I should get a new look, you know. I… I didn't want to go to the salon where everyone would make a fuss." Flourescent never considered cutting her hair short because when she was thirteen and tried going to the salon for the very purpose, she was did everything but thrown and kicked out. If she wanted short hair so bad, they told her, she'd have to take a scissor and clump off the luscious locks herself because they would not subject themselves to the torture of desecrating so beautiful a genetic feature.
"Oh," was all Tiana said, her lips curling down a bit. She was disappointed. I think she had been expecting a dramatic or revolting answer. I felt Gimmel shaking her head in my mind. What level of main character syndrome could this Tiana have reached? "No matter," said Tiana as she finally released her physical hold on me. "As long as it doesn't ruin tonight. It is a big night for all of us Flourescent. It is not just a full moon. Not just a blue moon. It is the blood moon which happens once every millennia."
"Of course!" Exclaimed I nervously. "You don't have to tell me that which I already know." The sad irony was that I did not know it. I did not know it at all.
"You've explained the hair," came a Texan drawl from a Texan man (he had to be cause forgive my stereotype, he was wearing a cowboy hat and cowboy boots and cowboy everything. The only thing probably missing was a lasso). His muscular arms were akimbo as he watched me with a laid back expression. He was probably deliberately acting to fit within the stereotype but damn did he have the whole shinag going? "You haven't explained the dirt."
"I…" I trailed off, certain I was doomed for real now.
"Don't be brusque Mike," Tiana lightly slapped his shoulder as a reprimand. "She had to be trying to find the moon river. She says the werewolves know where it is."
From what I could deduce, they did not know that Flourescent was a werewolf. They did not know that every Sanctuarian was a werewolf.
"I was in fact, trying to find the moon river," I said, with a raise of my voice and a dash of feigned confidence. "I didn't find it though. Between you and me, I don't think it exists," i was quick to add.
"Why? It seems like you were totally soaked in some liquid. Your clothes are air-dried by cold harsh wind," one of Tiana's crew chose the unfortunate time to be Sherlock Holmes.
"You're clearly wrong," I countered.
"No I'm not. I worked in a laundromat for fifteen years and I would have opened my own laundromat but chose to donate the capital to finding the werewolves."
"What in the world," muttered Gimmel in my mind. I could not blame them for being ignorant. Still, I could not help but be disappointed at how narrow-minded they were proposing to be. Something in me (could be Gimmel) wished they knew more than the fact that werewolves existed. Yet, they weren't even sure. They did not know how close they were and when they did, they would not be prepared enough. They did not know that Flourescent whom they had been conniving with was a werewolf, the very object of their life long search. I, a werewolf, was standing so close to a bunch of people who upon discovering my true nature would fall on their knees to kiss my feet. They did not know.
"You are delusional," I sputtered at the self acclaimed laundromat. I wanted so bad to cuss him out and tell him to shut his *************. Think what you may.
"Well, I suppose I could be wrong. My skills may have gone rusty. It's been another fifteen years since I quit the laundromat."
I deadpanned. "You think!" I snapped at him. Did the asshole nearly jeopardize my espionage for a hunch? I should shift into my wolf form and maim him on the spot. The rest would worship me even more zealously.
"Alright. No arguing! No fighting!" Tiana patronized. "As for you dear. We must prep you up for tonight. And we might have to get you a wig."
"Can I go now?"
The smile instantly dropped from Tiana's face, with the atmosphere suddenly becoming more tense. I timidly asked if I did something wrong.
"You must really be under the weather," said cowboy man, Mike. One side of his lips was twisted up in a grim one sided smile, as if smiling was a process that physically impacted pain upon him.
"Indeed, Flou's acting quite out of character."
"Must be the nerves."
"Or must be the fact that it's not Flou. Come on Tiana, we've let this farce drag on for too long," Mike protested. "You said she didn't know where the bathroom was. That may be Flou's hair colour, length or whatever but it is obviously not the texture. That is her sister Audeline."
Cowboy man Mike was not the sort I could gaslight into doubting his deductions the way I did to laundromat man. My cover was blown. I had nothing to lose if I face palmed myself there and then, so I did. For the moment he declared his suspicions, whatever invisible caul was over the eyes of the others seemed to shed. They began to murmur out their agreement and support.
I was right about Tiana's dramatic personality. She was quick and precise in her taking up the role of 'betrayed saint'. Her eyes grew wide as the crinkles around them doubled. The o shape of her mouth hid her crooked teeth, granting me a temporary reprieve.
"I don't know what you've heard about me but I can't be that bad," I defended myself. Tiana pushed me with an unsurprising strength that sent me stumbling through the open bathroom door and crash landing on the floor.
"Ouch, violent much." I felt sorry for myself. I may have been a pariah but I doubt if I had ever been bullied this much in my life before.
"We're you sent to spy on us?" Interrogated laundromat man. His question was taken up in a chorus.
"I think we can all agree that I'd be woefully bad at that," I announced. "Let's all be amicable and pretend I was never here and this never happened. None of this is my fault. All I wanted to do was take a crap. I didn't ask to be mistaken for my sister."
"And yet you dyed your hair," a voice jeered.
"I didn't…," I paused. "Now that's an even longer story. Now guys, can you let me go?"
"Nice try," said Tiana, her lips curling down in an ugly sneer. "You may be less popular but you are still the beta's daughter and now you know about us and our plans tonight. We can't let you get in the way."
"No no no, not again," I moaned, scrambling back on my hands and feet. Cowboy man Mike took two large strides towards me and yanked on my foot, pulling me out of the bathroom and suppressing my struggle with his weight. He smirked, believing me to be vulnerable. He had no idea how much power I had. I could eternally diminish his smugness with death. And goddess, Ara would have let me.
"Don't do it," Gimmel coaxed. "It'll only cause more harm than good. It may jeopardize your sister and it may confuse the pack and lead to unredeemable consequences."
"You are soft Gimmel," I said with disgust.
Cowboy man frowned. "I'm not Gimmel. My name is Mike."
"Tie her up," Tiara ordered.
"Spy!"
"Flourescent owes us an explanation and it better be good."
"Tonight will not come again. Not for another thousand years. We must kill her."
"Flourescent will understand if she supports us."
"She should die!"
"Die!"
"Kill her!"
"Tie her up!"
Amidst the flurry of voices, Mike was asking , trying to be intimidating. "Did you hear me? I said I'm Mike."
And Gimmel was saying, "Don't do it, Audeline."
"Shut up Gimmel. Yours is one less voice I want to hear!" I snapped.
Mike's face went beetred with inpatient anger, still thinking I was engaging him. He raised his hand and gave me a resounding slap but that only helped me to enter the whiteness faster where I caught up to Gimmel; placing my hands on her, and willing her to morph. Gimmel may be gentle, but I had enough rage for the both of us.
Shrieks erupted.