L’art du Spectacle

L’art du Spectacle

By Blair Law

In the kingdom of Jouteta, there once was a lovely prince. His skin was sculpted from mahogany and his hair was made of the finest strands of silk. His serious eyes glinted like precious stones set in his tiny face. But behind his face, his heart was rotten. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Now pay attention, dearest reader, for I will tell you his story. 

The boy was seven at the time that he discovered his love of puppets. Oh, the palace would have the most magnificent puppet shows just to entertain the king’s children. There were finger puppets, cut out shadow puppets, and best of all, the marionettes. Those were the special dolls that had found their way into the boy’s heart. The other children grew tired of the childish puppets and moved on to other entertainment. But Pantin did not move on. 

See, the puppets had captured him in the same way he longed to capture them. On his eighth birthday his parents gifted him his first puppet. He was overjoyed the moment he unwrapped it. Now he could finally control his own puppet, learn his way around the strings. Pantin had always felt so powerless to change his life. As third in line to the throne, he was forgotten, dismissed. But these thoughts were soon forgotten when he realized how this would change everything. He dreamt that night of all the things he would make his puppets do, of being the one in control of their story. 

And so, Pantin’s love for these magnificent toys only grew stronger with age. By age eighteen he had become a master of his craft. He knew every in and out, all of the techniques needed to manipulate those wooden puppets. But with this taste of power, he grew greedy for more. He vowed that he would not live in the shadow of his siblings any more. He would control his fate. He would free himself from his world of rejection. He wanted attention. He demanded respect. 

Greed warped into desperation and soon he began to search, desperately but determinedly. He was going to find a way to fulfill his wishes and he didn’t care how. He scoured ancient texts and scrolls to find a power that could help him... but he found nothing. He grew frustrated with this fruitless search and left the palace library to clear his head. He wandered far and wide. He wandered to forget his plight. And yet he could not forget it. And so he wandered still. He wandered to the edge of the palace grounds only to find a wall of dangling vines blocking his path. But Pantin was done with obstacles. He tore down a vine with such ferocity that all of the vines attached fell before him. And just like that, he saw the baneful cave before him.

Intrigue had sparked within his heart at this discovery. And so he continued his wandering. He wandered through the rocky path that twisted into the maw of the cave. He wandered and wandered until he saw a light peeking out of the shadowy gloom. He crept carefully towards this spot in the darkness until he could see where it was coming from. Torches. Several torches burning half-heartedly in a wide open space that seemed to be the center of the cave. And yet the torches would not protect him. For he could barely make out the shape of something in that darkness just beyond the light.

It inched forward, one leg at a time, until it was standing in the torchlight. Pantin reared back. It was the most grotesque creature he had ever seen. A mockery of the miracle of life. Even the light that reached it rejected it’s loathsome form. And still it pretended to be a creature of this world. One would almost think that it was a chimera of sorts, half human and half arachnid. But creatures of this world do not look the way it did. The half pretending to be human was unnaturally pale. Blue veins crawled up its translucent skin. The creature’s chest was bare, but this only revealed more anomalies of its form. Its chest was perfectly flat, making it that much easier to see that it had far too many ribs. They seemed to span from its waist up to its collarbone. And once he found the courage to shift his gaze to the thing’s face, Pantin found it nearly covered by a mass of tangled hair, the deepest black he had ever seen, and yet, more horrifying still was the half pretending to be a spider. Its horrific abdomen was just as black as its hair. It took on a spheriod shape that almost pulsed with every beat of Pantin’s heart. It was covered in fine black hairs that traveled up to its legs, eight spindly things that seemingly shot out from that round middle. It was too much for one boy to see. At that moment, Pantin could not seem to breathe.

He turned to run but the thing’s mouth opened with a hiss, “I can give you what you want”. His hesitation was apparent and the creature preyed on that weakness. “Come closer.” He could not think of anything that he wanted to do less, and yet, his feet moved. He drew closer until he was just feet away from it. It began to speak once more, “Do not be afraid little one. I am Araignee, lovely keeper of this cave. ”. Pantin drew in a shuddering breath. “I have a good deal of power, you know. I can help you. You really should consider it, little one”. And he did consider it. He stood there, trapped in time, considering it. But, in the end, his sense was no match for his all-consuming greed. “What can you do for me?” The creature hissed in approval, “Come closer”. But this time he stood quite still. Unperturbed, she went on, “You needn’t be so stiff”. Just like that, Pantin felt his muscles begin to relax, bit by bit. “You’re avoiding the question, beast.” She chuckled softly, “Feisty, aren’t we?”. “Still, no matter, I will let you in on the secret. I will help you take control of your situation… by taking control of those keeping you from power.” He questioned hesitantly, “What must I do?”. “Oh don’t fret darling. It’s nothing much. I have a good idea of who you want me to manipulate, so I only ask for two of your precious marionettes and several of each of their hairs.” “And you will grant me the power I need?” She gave a pointed grin, “Of course”. 

And still, against all of his better judgement, Pantin followed through. In the dead of night, he retrieved two of his precious dolls and went to his siblings’ beds, one by one. He reached down slowly, carefully, and plucked four hairs from each of their heads, praying not to wake them. And he succeeded. He took the precious hairs and dolls and returned to that cursed cave.  

If that monster could have expressed happiness I’m sure it would have when he arrived. As he got to her area of the cave, she gave him a sickening grin and threw her arms open. “You’ve done a terrific job, my pet. Now bring them to me”. He had come this far. He wasn’t backing down now. 

He placed the items into her bony hands and stepped back. She began to inspect them, turning them over and over. She breathed a deep sigh before nodding at him. “Thank you.” She then carefully folded her legs so that she could “sit” on the cave floor. She first picked up the marionettes and ran her grimy, jagged fingernails across the string with an intense focus until each string broke. She then picked up the hairs to tie them to each limb of the doll. And then, oddly, she tied the hairs to her fingers, lifted up the doll and whispered something to it. Pantin could not hear her words. And then, before his eager eyes, Pantin saw the doll… well, he could not quite describe it but the doll gained a certain substance to it. It remained limp but Pantin knew that was its own choice. Suddenly, the creature began to puppet the doll, wiggling each finger to make the doll mimic footsteps. She got up to puppet the thing to the edge of the torchlight where Pantin could swear he saw the hairs snap and perhaps he even saw the doll continue to move into the dark until it was out of sight. She then repeated the process for the second doll. As horrified as he should have been, he felt a swell of excitement in his chest and the notion of his siblings not being in his way anymore. But he needed to be sure, “What will happen to them?”. She leaned down slowly to whisper into his ear. But, dear reader, I do not know what she said and so it will remain a secret. He nodded slowly at her words and she turned away, pleased. He would then leave the cave, walking off with stiff, wooden movements.

However, soon he found himself in a similar situation to that which drew him to the creature in the first place. His parents, of all people, were in his way. They were wracked with grief at the recent disappearance of their children, but still insisting on ruling in their state. Pantin could not tolerate this for long.

He solemnly made his return to the cave only to see the creature eager as ever. “What ever has brought you here today, my lovely?” “I’m sure you know, witch.” Smiling at his accusation she spoke, “And have you brought what I need?”. He threw the marionettes to the ground and pressed the hairs into her waiting hand. “Very good”, she praised him. “Give me what I need,” he said pitifully. “Be patient, dear.” And so she took the puppets and the hairs and did her witchcraft or used her powers or whatever she had done before. And the puppets walked away, away from Pantin, and into the dark. This time he felt more than just excitement. He felt relief and exhilaration. He was so close, he could practically taste his prize. Perhaps he could sense what would happen to his family, and yet he could not bring himself to care. 

Again the monster lowered herself down to speak to him. She whispered what we will never know into his ear, into his mind. This time he had no reservations. He nodded eagerly, practically smiling at her words. And so he left again, the same way he had before, unnaturally yet purposefully.

And even with his newfound power, he felt a nagging in his mind. He eventually followed the pull of his feelings back to that same cave. The cave with the creature. He walked, almost joyfully, into the bowels of that wretched place. He grinned at the sight of the creature. And she smiled in return. 

“My pretty one, what could it be that has drawn you here?” Pantin paused, he was not sure of that himself. She cooed, “Oh dear, perhaps I can help you remember”. He nodded, content in the knowledge that she would help him. This time, however, she did not whisper. “Did you not come here for a final deal?” He smiled, of course he had. “And you already have what I need!” He glanced down. He did in fact. He had a marionette and some hair clutched in his palm. But who would those things be used for? He shot her a questioning glance. 

“Oh I think you already know, my darling.” Perhaps he did but every thought was so dreadfully foggy. He gave her a pleading glance. Could she help him remember? She generously enlightened him, “You came to give me what I am owed, pet. Control”. This startled him, control over what? And then it dawned upon him, control over him. 

And in that moment, he had some clarity shocked into him. He looked around frantically. What was he doing? In his state of confusion, his eyes fell upon the corners of the cave. No. That’s not-. Please. No. It can’t be. That’s not them. I’m not seeing it right. But if he was seeing it right, it would have been his family, entrapped in spider webs, fastened to the corners of the cave. They did not move but their eyes were wide open, terrified, urging him to run. And he tried. He turned so fast that he fell to the ground. Why? He frantically looked down at his legs. He had already been stuck to the floor. He hadn’t seen her wrapping him in web in his stupor. Suddenly the thought flashed through his head that spider webs are stronger than steel. He had heard that as a child. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Shhh,” she hissed. “I told you not to be afraid.” Hearing this, he screamed. And he did not stop until she was finished with him. He continues to yell and struggle as she dutifully covered him in strands of web that seemingly came out of nowhere. She carefully secured all of his limbs to the ground until he could only move his neck to see her. He found his voice gone from screaming and now he could only whimper in protest to his entrapment. She towered above him, and any outsider would think that her gaze was loving. Perhaps it was. And then she slowly bent down over his form, mandibles pushing their way out of her mouth. Finally, she softly bit the flesh of his lips, silencing him with a kiss. “No more fear now, little one.” He found his muscles tightening until he could not even move his neck. However, his senses he kept. He could feel, see, hear everything.

And so she puppeted him. She controlled him entirely. Oh the things she made him do, I do not even dare to tell you. And she played with him. She played with his power. Whether it was through strings or venom you could not tell. But it did not matter. She had the power that he had coveted so dearly. She was the puppeteer.

The End