There was Las Vegas, and a glorious hotel suite, and oysters flown in from an oyster farm (preferred over wild oysters because these were farmed in the Kobe style, producing a superior taste while allowing wild stocks to replenish), and wines, and beer, and staff attending to my every word, and luxury, and Damn I Sure Do Need A Vacation.
And an almost imperceptible thread.
Make that two. The second going crossways to the first.
If I wasn’t looking for them, I wouldn’t have seen them. I wondered if they were there because I was looking for them. No matter, I see them now.
My patron brought me here to relax and be indulgent before I go to work tonight. I have been hired to perform divination for an exclusive crowd late tonight. Every one will be wearing masks, including me. But I will be wearing a black hood over my white skull mask. He has asked that if I recognize anyone, to not speak their name. Everyone is faceless tonight. Everyone is No One.
Okay.
While sleeping in the three feet of pillows that was my bed (luxury!), I felt my patron come in. He took his face off and undressed. I recognized the man he became, but I also remembered the threads. He slipped into the bed.
“No sex.” I felt him come to a stop. His hesitance made me chuckle.
“It will help you relax.” I felt a hand slide towards me.
“So will playing with your liver.” I felt my skin peel off me. A snake tattoo was covering my entire back. The tattoo lifted and struck the patron’s hand. I knew it was a dry strike. A warning. He pulled away.
“I… I just want to make up for…”
“You’re not [him]. You’re a puppet yourself. As long as I am left alone, I will do the job I’m hired to do, Madame. You know my reputation, and what I do to threads. Try to entangle mine and I’ll undo yours. Otherwise, I’ll be ready tonight.” I never turned over, but remained comfortably naked under the pillows and blankets.
I felt the patron withdraw and redress. Donning his face like any mask, his form returned to the tall and thin delicate figure I saw before. Quietly, he left the room.
I slept for a bit then heard the doors open again. Something sounded wrong. I was already obscured by the pillows, so I dissolved my form into cold shadow and crept up behind the abstract painting over the bed. Several women, in blue flight attendant uniforms, were creeping into the room. Armed with knives, they formed an arc around the bed. One of them walked into a thread but did not react. The thread vibrated as she passed through it.
“This doesn’t look right.” The woman spoke in low whispers.
“This is the right suite!”
“So where is he?”
“There is three feet of pillows here. He is at the bottom of them.”
One woman prodded the pillows, then plunged her arm into them. “There’s nothing here. Fading warmth. It’s been at least an hour since anyone was in this bed.”
“The seer he had with him?”
“Some seer! If she knew who he is, she wouldn’t be here! Did he kill her yet?”
“The gathering is tonight. She still lives. Probably being taken to dinner.”
“Our orders are to kill him. She is not to be touched, even if she witnesses everything.”
The female ninjas (still dressed as PanAm flight attendants) nodded and crept out the room. All but one dodged the threads. The same woman that walked through a thread before, walked into it again. She was violently thrown back into the room.
The other women fled as the threads morphed into two huge orc-like men. The men descended on the woman and quickly overpowered her. Ripping her apart, they ate every last bit of her, including her clothes and weapons. In seconds, there was no evidence she was ever there.
The patron returned, carrying a white cat in his arms. The orcs knelt before him. “Where is the Seer?” The men shook their heads. The patron pursed his lips. “Did they chase her off?” They shook their heads again. “You are not to touch her! You shouldn’t even be seen! Return to your station!” The orcs nodded in submission and turned back into the draping strands of microfiber threads.
“Great.” The patron was visually annoyed. “Now I have to track down a shapeshifter in a city dedicated to illusions. Fuck.” He turned and left the suite. I decided this would be a good time to leave the dream. So I did.