Melinoe wasn’t even winded when she reached the building, just a few hundred yards off the far more tourist driven areas of the waterfront. It was long, flat and a single story with ample parking outside, though only a fraction of it was in use currently. A large blazing neon sign on the front repeatedly blinked OPEN 24 HOURS. Above it, a massive tree was falling to the axe of a curvaceous woman in a ripped flannel shirt and tight jean shorts. Blazed across the trunk in neon was LUMBER JACKS.
Melinoe walked in through the front door. She noticed the same sign she saw in the newspaper Cyrus left her as she passed. It simply said “Open Auditions Noon to Four”. About a dozen girls were already in a queue just inside the foyer. The bass beat of some heavy metal song echoed from the main floor of the club just a few feet away.
She passed every woman in the line and walked straight up to the man in front of them. He was a head taller than six feet, thick and muscled. His bald head and dour expression made him look quite formidable.
“Back of the line,” he said as she approached.
“I think not. I am here to see your boss and he will want to see me. He’s found his new featured performer. And I don’t take kindly to the word no.”
He started to raise a hand to stop her, but she was already reaching into his mind. An image of an imperious man, but one far shorter and pudgier, appeared in her mind’s eye. She breathed it out at him, let the fear of the nightmare loose on its creator.
To the casual immortal, goddess of nightmares seemed like a poor title. But access to nightmares gave her the access to both the greatest horrors and the greatest desires of those she met. It only took a tiny connection, a second’s contact and her knowledge of a person increased exponentially. With desire and horror so closely linked in the human perspective, they were just far too easy.
She watched his eyes widen and his pupils dilate. His face contorted as he looked at her. She knew he was seeing some kind of mother goddess before her, some ideal of his mother no other woman could match. It was a twisted fantasy, but every fantasy she unleashed was twisted.
“I trust I can see myself in.”
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