———–

7.

The building was quiet and Travis gently touched the elevator button, knowing he would get fired if he was found out. The car rose swiftly and he forced himself to stop bouncing on his heels as it rose, floor by floor. Johanna would kill him, he knew, if she found out, but it was late enough that no one else was around. Even she had gone home at last, telling Travis to find his own bed and seek its comfort for the night. He had waved her off, muttering about some details with a set designer he had to work out before tomorrow. She had no reason to doubt him and left him there, alone, shrugging and thinking to herself that she had made the right choice in P.A.s.

The elevator opened to the bright primary swirls and flourishes of the Giggly Wigglies floor. He had decided, after speaking to her, that something about her story didn’t hang together right. As he crossed the room, looking for some sort of clue as to the true nature of these reclusive actors, he noticed light coming from under a door set into the far right corner of the open space. He crept closer to it, listening for any sounds he could discern. Muttered voices rose and fell but individual words were impossible to work out. He sighed and turned to search the rest of the space, his shoe making a slight squeak on the tiled floor.

He got all of two more steps before the door was flung open and Snorktasm burst out of the room, her scales rippling with movement. “I know I heard a mouse!” she insisted to whomever was inside the room. She saw Travis quickly and blinked several times.

“Hey,” he said lamely, knowing his career was over, “I just heard there was a disturbance up here and…” Grinkle and Tamburto came out of the room slowly behind Snorktasm, both grinning as they saw and heard Travis.

“Yeah, you’re the disturbance, human.” Tamburto shook his head and walked right up to Travis, his fingers working slowly. Travis blanched a bit, wondering what kinds of freaks wore costumes this late at night, after a whole day of filming. Did they sleep in those things, he wondered, even as he realized their smiles and grins were somehow predatory and utterly unlike the kind smiles they gave to children.

“Ok, I admit it, I was curious. I wanted to know why you guys never took off your costumes.” At that the three giggled, Snorktasm’s voice peeping and shrieking a bit.

“He thinks…” Snorktasm began with a titter.

“These ain’t costumes, human,” Grinkle said, stepping up next to Tamburto, “You wanted to know, you know. Sorry ’bout that.”

“Sorry about what?” Travis asked, growing nervous. He started to back away slowly, hands coming up in front of him. They didn’t make it far up before Tamburto pounced him, knocking the man to the floor. Travis screamed, the sound cutting off as Tamburto’s teeth ground against his neck, tearing out his throat.

“He’s gonna be tough meat, not like a good kid,” Grinkle sighed as he wandered up to Tamburto and reached down, tearing one of Travis’ arms off. He bit into the shoulder and shook his head, “Tough meat,” he lamented and turned back to reenter the room he had come from.

From inside the room a voice of multiple layers could be heard by all three, “Clean that up, and then we have to step up the plan.”

8.

All across the city children woke up humming to themselves. They dressed and ate and went to school, behaving as they normally did. Their parents never even noticed the constant humming, chalking it up one and all, to normal child behavior. Throughout the city the morning proceeded normally, sun shining and birds singing. Cars honked and busses shat out volumes of gas, devouring and releasing passengers.

At about eleven A.M. everything changed. Every child in the city stood up and tried to leave where they were, as one. Children escaped school and ran from nannies. They crossed streets without the buddy system and walked solemnly when they could, all heading towards one central location.

Johanna was in her office when the phone started to ring, every line on the flat black device lighting up like a Christmas tree. A secretary ran into her office, a worried look on his face.

“Ms. Herbister,” he yelped, “there are children everywhere!”

“Yes Francis, I know.” She shook her head, “We work in children’s television. One does lead to the other.” She picked up her phone and turned away from the secretary, annoyed.

“Ms. Herbister, there are children, thousands of them, swarming the building.” the voice on the other end of the call said quickly. Johanna looked back at Francis with apology in her eyes. “The Police are here but they don’t know what to do. The children are all singing the Giggly Wiggly theme, ma’am!” Johanna just hung up the phone and felt an icy cold lump form in the pit of her stomach.

“Ms. Herbister?” Francis asked as he watched her stand up and close her eyes for a second, “What do we do?”

“You call downstairs and make sure they lock the doors. Then call more Police. I’m going upstairs.” She sighed and started towards Francis.

“Ma’am? Ms. Herbister? How will going upstairs help?” He stepped backwards out of her office as she approached him, trying to stay in front of her but not hinder her movement. There was something in her eyes when she had reopened them that he didn’t want to mess with.

“Did I tell you to do something or did I ask you to question me?!” she barked loudly, drawing stares from people passing by. She closed her door in his face, reopening it a minute later, dusting off her hands. She slammed her office door shut behind her and marched to the elevator, her resolve tightening around her like an electrical charge. Francis meeped and ran for a phone to do as he had been ordered.

The elevator seemed to crawl upwards as Johanna tapped her long green nails on her thigh. Finally the doors opened. The room had changed since the last time she had been there: the brightly colored swirls were rent with claw marks, the tiles along the floor pried up as often as not and shattered against each other. She ignored it all, letting her senses take it in but not bothering to process much of anything as she strode towards the bright blue door in the corner. Not bothering to knock she flung the door open wide and glared inside.

The four sat, grinning wickedly at each other, their sharp teeth revealed in full as three of them watched Bobble Wobble. His wings fluttered and his head shook as he opened his eyes.

“Johanna, what a pleasant surprise.” Each word was perfectly formed and said with distinct distaste. “We had wondered if you would simply run in fear or if you would bring yourself to us and let us have one last meal together.” Her knees started to weaken and Johanna steeled herself all over again. She couldn’t back down now. She knew she was the only thing that had half a chance, but she also knew it was only half of a chance that she had.

“Stop this now. You idiots,” she gave a bit of extra force to the word, “are causing so much trouble I don’t know how I’ll be able to cover it.” Grinkle laughed and tossed the last half of Travis’ head at her feet. She jumped back, wobbling as she landed on her heels and gaped at the head for a second. Even though the face was eyeless, she still knew exactly who it was.

“Don’t bother covering it, Jo’,” Tamburto said smoothly, “We’ll deal with it ourselves, ok?” Snorktasm laughed and stood, as did Grinkle. Johanna swallowed hard and shook her head defiantly.

“You’re breaking your oaths,” she reminded them darkly, standing her ground once more.

“Yeah, we’ll uhhh deal with that too,” Grinkle said as he took a step forward. Johanna noticed that Snorktasm had re-sharpened her claws, the swirling paint now leading down to knife-like edges and points.

“I’m sure.” Johanna took a step backwards, trying to gain enough space to do the only thing that popped into her head, the only real chance she could find. Grinkle leapt at her and she turned and ran, kicking off her heels as she went, the shards of tile on the floor cutting into her feet deeply as she tried to outrace the demons on her tail. Snorktasm shouted, “The elevator!” even as Johanna turned suddenly and burst into the emergency stairwell. The door slammed shut behind her and she took the stairs as fast as her now-bloody feet would let her.

Seconds later the stairwell door slammed open again with a squeal of protest as the metal itself bent. Tamburto threw himself down the stairs, followed closely by Grinkle and Snorktasm. Bobble Wobble walked slowly behind all of them, taking his time and smiling.

Johanna felt something inside her break as she went down under Tamburto, the two tumbling down a flight of stairs, tangled together like badly paired lovers. He raked her shoulder, tearing through hundred dollar silk and rending soft flesh. She raked her own nails across his face, feeling one of his eyes pop under her fingers. He screamed a string of curses and let go of her. She stood shakily and started running again. Grinkle and Snorktasm could be heard thudding and smashing their way behind her, one of them stopping to deal with Tamburto, Snorktasm she guessed.

Blood ran down her arm, hot and wet, staining the silk of her blouse as she continued to run. Each step was a knife of pain in chest as the four ribs she had broken in Tamburto’s tackle ground against each other. She ran, stumbling, her feet crying out in protest, curling her bleeding arm against her broken chest and turning down another flight.

“Mine!” snarled Grinkle as he slammed into her from behind, sending her tumbling down another flight of stairs. He stood at the top of the landing, watching her. She screamed as her right knee gave, bending wrong, and forced herself upright, limping towards the door. “You’re dedicated, Jo’,” Grinkle said with a cold sharp laugh, “but not good enough.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Johanna said as she shoved the fire door open painfully, “stop watching bad movies.” She started to limp as fast as she could, heading for her office. The floor was empty and Johanna realized they were all downstairs dealing with the children. Grinkle burst through the fire door behind her, tearing it off its hinges with a sharp protest of metal and threw it at her. The door shattered her office’s wooden door, missing her by a few inches. Tamburto and Snorktasm came out of the stairwell, Tamburto snarling and holding his face over his ruined eye with one large hand, Snorktasm holding him and promising revenge. Bobble Wobble showed seconds later, strolling calmly behind.

Johanna struggled into her office, splinters gouging into her feet and hands, and limped to her desk, sitting behind it in her chair. She grabbed the piece of chalk on the floor and connected the two ends of the curve quickly before she pawed at drawers and opened the bottom most one, starting to frantically flip through pages.

“Jo’, Jo’, Jo’.” Grinkle laughed and entered her office slowly, taking his time. The other two followed and stood there, watching her with a level of sheer disbelief.

“Is this really the time to take a memo?” Snorktasm asked her with a giggle. Bobble Wobble entered last and watched her curiously. His curiosity turned to rage as he saw what she pulled from her desk. Johanna took the contract and tore through it, hoping she had time before they could figure out what she was intending. Grinkle glanced around uncertainly, sensing something in the room was wrong.

“Breach of contract,” she said softly, “Section 14-D.” She looked up at them, the air itself seeming to charge electrically as she intoned the words. The three looked at Bobble Wobble who started to launch himself across the room at Johanna. At his lead the other three did the same. Bobble Wobble realized that he knew the feeling in the air, the same wrongness Grinkle noticed. Johanna had closed a circle, binding them all in the room until she chose to reopen it – or she died. “If the talent interferes with the production of the show,” she said quickly, the words coming rapid fire from her lips as she shoved backwards in her chair, evading the four by small inches, “the entire contract is forfeit and the talent is to leave the premises, defined as the realm in which they currently reside,” Bobble Wobble screamed in rage and tore his hand through her cheek trying to shut her up, “as soon as they are notified of their breach.” She closed her eyes and hoped she still had time. The world seemed to slow into individual seconds: Snorktasm’s claws started to work their way across her jaw even as the words left Johanna’s mouth, “You’re fired.”

The horrible stench of brimstone and burnt fur washed over her like rancid garbage. Gagging, broken and bloody, Johanna leaned back in her chair and looked around the now empty room. “Read your contract and don’t fuck with your Producer, you fucks.” she whispered and glanced at her Rolodex, smudging the circle open with her foot as she wondered how she was going to explain this to the higher ups and where the Giggly Wigglies’ replacements would come from. After all, she still had her father’s old spell books.

———–
…After These Messages is copyright Adam P. Knave.