Cyrus shivered from both the cold and Nick’s pallor. “What happened to you? Are you dead?”

“Not quite,” Nick responded. “I’ve been sent against my will to the land parallel to this one. The Dark Realm.”

Cyrus’ bright blue eyes illuminated further. He was well versed in the stories of the land ruled by death. It was the realm where you went when you died. It was ruled by a dark king who accepted the seeds of souls when they departed from their bodies. What he didn’t know was how you could communicate from beyond it.

“What’s it like there?” Cyrus asked, curiosity filling him.

“Imagine the greatest pain you could ever experience and multiply it times infinity,” Nick said. “There are a million ways to be harmed in the Dark Realm, but not one way to die. This is the fate reserved for true criminals, men and women who greatly wronged others. No one lives here but us and monsters of pure darkness.”

“That’s horrible,” Cyrus exclaimed.

“Most of the people down here are so numbed to the endless pain that they sit as still statues, hoping one day, the uncreator will let them die.”

“The uncreator?” Cyrus asked.

“What we call the wicked ruler of the underworld,” Nick said. “For we beg him to uncreate us every endless night. I’m not where I should be. I’m a mortal spirit in the Dark Realm who hasn’t returned to the womb.”

“How did you get down there anyway?”

“I don’t deserve this fate,” Nick cried. “That wicked Rosemary, she promised hundreds of wrongdoers freedom with brand new bodies—our bodies—as long as they agreed to serve her. Apparently, the Everbloods are numbered too few to truly carry out their bidding alone.”

“Rosemary is an Everblood?”

“Yes, and the worst kind. The salacious kind. I knew I shouldn’t have been tempted by her cabernet show, but I couldn’t resist. My sweet Sadie Belle can be so hard on me sometimes, and though I know she loves me, I just had to get away and see a woman of leisure. Just one time. It really did me in.”

“She is a bit of a nag,” Cyrus responded. “But I saw her and she really misses you. Either that or she just doesn’t like Rosemary taking her property. Hard to tell.”

“Ugh,” the shadow said, his arms hanging limp. “I’ve been crushed, stabbed, stung, poisoned, shot and blown up and nothing hurts more than hearing that. The fact that I can’t be with her when I know she truly wants me.”

“Don’t worry,” Cyrus said. “I can tell how much you miss Sadie Belle. Just tell me how to get your body back and I’ll reunite you two.”

“T-thanks,” Nick responded. “I just don’t know how and…”

Nick fell silent and pointed behind Cyrus. “Good prince, look out!”

Cyrus turned around and saw Not-Nick standing with Morales and the blue faced barker clown.

“Well, well,” Not-Nick said, with an icy demeanor. “My pathetic shadow has lead me to a promotion from my dear Rosemary. She wanted us to find the man who could commune with the shadows, and we have found him.”

“W-w-who are you?” Cyrus stammered.

Not Nick smirked. “My name is unimportant to the likes of you. I’m simply an executed murderer who was promised salvation by Rosemary, and sure enough, by following her I have been given a second chance.”

The two clowns walked to the sides of Cyrus with their swords pointed at his neck. Not Nick walked straight up to Cyrus’ face and bent down, giving a vulgar sneer as the clowns restrained Cyrus. “And now, not only do I have a new body, but I have an opportunity to become Rosemary’s second in command. You’re coming with us.”

Morales smashed Cyrus with the back of his sword and he crumpled to the floor. The clowns conjured a large sack, and dragged Cyrus into it. With a grunt, they lifted him up and headed back to the carnival.

Cyrus’ heart thundered in his stomach as he awoke in an oversized burlap sack. With a groan, the two clowns dropped him into a seat of some kind. Cyrus tried to lash his tongue against the fabric that bound his mouth, but he still couldn’t cry for help. He began to feel light headed from the lack of air and slumped back. All the while, he heard Not Nick and the two clowns speak to someone with a much lovelier tone of voice than any of them. It was a female voice that sounded absolutely disinterested in the matter at hand.

“Must you bother me?” The voice aggressively muttered.

“My sweet lady,” Not Nick said with a hunger in his voice.“ We have obtained the threat like you’ve asked.”

“The one who can speak to shadows?” the luscious but icy female voice said. “I have no interest in dealing with him personally, just dispose of the nuisance.”

“But don’t you want to see the prize I’ve claimed for you?” Not Nick said as he drew closer.

“Ugh,” the woman groaned in return. “I have a feeling you won’t leave me alone until I praise your little finding.”

Cyrus could feel sweat inch down his neck as he expected to see a horrifying monster.

The burlap sack was lifted by the blue faced clown and Cyrus was greeted by a gorgeous, porcelain-white woman with pitch dark hair curved around her head in a short styled bob. Her eyes were a pale purple, seductive in their iciness and she was adorned in everything from golden bracelets, to sapphire orbs that hung from her ears and a cocktail dress that accentuated every curve of her body. Her lips, traced with dark purple lipstick scowled when she saw Cyrus.

“This is the threat you speak of?” She gave a chilling laugh before reverting to her icy expression. “We have even less to worry about than we thought. Dispose of him.”

“Mmph, mmph,” Cyrus cried in protest.

The gorgeous woman rolled her eyes and pouted her lips. “What could he possibly want?”

She ripped the gag out of Cyrus mouth. “Do you know who you’re dealing with? I am Prince Cyrus of the Coates Royal family, I have royal blood in these veins!”

The woman’s icy purple eyes dilated, and her lip curled around her teeth as she bit them. “Can you three do one last thing for little old me?”

“What is it my sweet lady?” Not Nick asked, his hands trembling like an alcoholic who received his first drop of gin in years.

The woman’s voice turned cold and low. “Leave me alone.”

“Y-yes, my sweet lady.” Not Nick, and his two clown cohorts walked to the curtain, pushing their way through it.

Cyrus observed the room for the first time as the woman glared at them. He saw he was in a dressing room inside one of the circus tents. There was a coat rack hung with black and white fur coats and a large mirror attached to a dressing table full of cosmetics, bangles and other glittering accessories. An enormous poster hung from the ceiling, much like the one they had seen outside. It advertised the amazing Rosemary with all of the glitz and glamour it could muster. Once the three men left, the woman stood alone. Her voice sweetly suckled Cyrus’ ears like a hummingbird sipping nectar. “So…is it true what you say?”

“True about what? What did I say?” Cyrus sputtered.

The woman turned around and Cyrus could see her face was different. She had a look of lust in her eyes or was it hunger? Cyrus wasn’t sure. She rubbed her manicured hands together as a wide smile stretched across her face. She ran her tongue across her lips. It was unusually long for a human. “Did you say you have…royal blood?”

“I do…” Cyrus said feeling intimidated by the woman’s expression. “A-are you Rosemary?”

The woman’s neatly outlined eyebrows lowered and she gave a sinister glare directed at him. “Am I really that unrecognizable at the show I’m headlining?”

Cyrus trembled at the woman’s demeanor, but suddenly, it softened and her voice became light and airy with a touch of velvet. “I was warned to beware the man who could talk to shadows, but you don’t look like much of a threat. You’re just this adorable baby boy, fattened with care by his royal parents.”

“Please,” Cyrus begged. “I’ve never spoken to a shadow before. This was the first time and it was an accident. I promise not to talk to a shadow again if you let me go! Please beautiful woman, let me go!”

Rosemary held her pale-as-moonlight hands to her face, letting out a giggle. “Your flattery is delectable, you pudgy Prince. But I know exactly who you are. You’re part of this cute little rescue party that wishes to save Princess Trinity from the big bad Everbloods.”

Cyrus realized he couldn’t deny what Rosemary already knew. “You are correct. I am Prince Cyrus the Magnificent who will save Princess Trinity and betroth her. If you are an Everblood, let it be known that you are my enemy.”

Rosemary’s eyes glinted when she heard Cyrus’ declaration of war. She strolled over to him and ran a pointed, painted fingernail along his pudgy cheek. “I may not look like it, but I do not take chances with my prey. I have a job to do and that is to sing an elegy for all the men in town so my comrades in the Dark Realm can snatch their bodies”—Rosemary took her nail and pricked Cyrus’ cheek hard—"I’m sorry to say, my beautiful blushing boy, but you will have to die.”

Cyrus’ head felt faint knowing his death would be soon and it probably would be painful. Rosemary turned his head right towards her with her hand. “You could be a vessel for a wicked criminal in the Dark Realm too, but I think I’ll save you for myself instead. I’ve always wanted a taste of royalty.”

“What do you mean…a taste of royalty?” Cyrus responded, his breaths getting shorter.

Rosemary drew her pale face close to Cyrus and he could see the ends of her teeth were sharpened fangs. “Do you want to know the only time I feel alive?” She asked in a disturbingly breathy voice.

Slowly, Rosemary’s face began to change to something more monstrous. Her pale white skin turned a ghastly light blue, her eyes became reptilian, bulging and cranking themselves in different directions and her tongue extended from her mouth, growing twice the length it already was. Saliva dripped out of the terrifying demon’s mouth like flowing water as she salivated. She spoke in a gravelly voice that lost every hint of femininity. “I feel alive when I am sucking the blood from the marrow of a good boy like you, draining the color from your face until you are as blue as I am. When I’ve finished you, I’ll lick my lips and say ‘what a good boy he was.’”

Cyrus felt himself turning green and wanting to throw up. He closed his eyes praying the demon would go away. But when he opened his eyes, Rosemary had returned to the beautiful chanteuse she was before.

“Once I’ve sung my song,” she said softly. “You will be my little morsel for a job well done. You’re my little T-bone steak with extra fat around the edge. Until then, I want you to enjoy your little backstage pass, honey.”

She giggled, reinserted the gag in his mouth and walked over to the table to finish preparing herself for her show. Cyrus prayed with all of his might that his friends would rescue him before it was feeding time for real.