The winged clock-people shift into various types of owls. It is past midnight and my agent hasn't shown up yet. I sigh and mentally curse him - Why on earth did he invite me to this place? He knows all but too well that I hate parties! I dart an angry glance at the clock-owls; their wide eyes locked on me flash with light as though they're mocking me. Actually, those inexpressive eyes only reflect the light of the huge moon that illuminates the vast ballroom, yet this borrowed light gives the clock-people an outwardly, nightmarish aspect. The owner of the place must be an important guy. Not just because he can afford a moon to illuminate the place where he holds his feast, but also because several Lords are among the guests. They are decked out in eccentric albeit refined outfits; they are wearing exquisite perfumes. The ethereal, indecent scents of "Cannibal Lavender", "Bitter Moonlight" and "Chimera Carnival" delightfully tickle my sensitive nose and make me feel lightheaded. Expensive fragrances do this to me… Closing my eyes, I caress the black sofa cover. It's authentic Night Sky Velvet so soft at the touch that I feel as though I'm flying among the stars. I must look quite sensual; one of the Lords persistently stares at me, his gaze filled with desire.

I turn my eyes into diamonds and give him a warm smile. I sense his confusion - everything in my attitude seems alluring, but my cold, diamond-eyes keep him at distance. Without taking my gaze off him, I wave my hand to the waiter - a handsome dragon in a white silk kimono embroidered with golden magic symbols. He arrives immediately and bows to me. I order a Bloody Fairy.

Most of my kin think that to become involved with a Lord opens all doors: you get all the beautiful clothes and jewels you can dream of and - most important - you can choose the scripts of the roles you play. The latter is my dearest wish, but I don't share the common belief that an affair with a Lord is the key to success. For this, I can only rely on my talent and I am gifted!  I just expect my partner to give me pleasure - not fortune or fame. Also, most Lords are trouble and I don't need that. Now, I have to take care not to offend the one that is just flirting with me; he will have to think that it was him that stepped away, not that I rejected him. So I keep staring at him with my diamond-eyes and smiling until the waiter brings the Bloody Fairy.

The fairy is a pretty little thing. In her long dress made of black lace and red silk, she looks like a tiny porcelain doll. Her green luminous eyes on her pale face, her beautiful red lips and her waist-long dark hair give her the aspect of a frail child. I am not fooled, though. I know how powerful she is. She locks her emerald eyes into my adamantine gaze and grasps immediately my thoughts. She asks casually if I have a preference for the fairy tale blood in my drink. I reply in a whisper so that only she can hear that I don't care as long as there is snow in the tale. I watch her as she presses juice out of the poppies she produced out of thin air. She adds two red rose petals for the scent and a golden-hued dust; at its music I know it is sulphured pepper. She utters the spell to summon fairy tales. They're shaped as luminous creatures crowned with bluish aureoles - a sign that there is snow in them. The fairy skilfully takes some glowing fluid out of them and pours it into the poppy juice. She is good; I watch her mixing the ingredients and I am so impressed that I almost forget my unwelcome admirer. At the very moment she puts the aureoles made out of snow-light in the drink I turn my eyes into snowflakes. I am as desirable as ever, but now I am a Snow Queen. None of the Lords would fall for her as they all hate ice - we all do. But when you have to play roles, ice is something you have to cope with. I did well; the Lord shivers and goes away frowning and muttering something inaudible. "Well done," whispers the Bloody Fairy into my mind and we exchange a frozen gaze of complicity. I have to keep my snowflake eyes for some time in order to avoid arousing suspicion and her kin are inexpressive anyway. She pierces her little finger and adds some of her own blood in the drink. This is a great honor and I thank her. She handles the ruby drink to me and flows away without bowing. Dark fairies never bow to anybody; our kin and hers have that in common.

The Lord has joined his companions -he is even flirting with a starlet. He has probably given up on me. I relax and sip my drink; the fairy has done a good job, it's delightful! My head is light and I feel so cheerful! The buzz must be due to the fairy tales in the drink - or is it the sulphured pepper? I notice that my dress is among the most beautiful ones; it is made of nightmare panther silk and spider moon lace and it is almost as expensive as the night sky velvet cover on the sofa. This dress and my diamond necklace were my pay for my role as a statue. I stood among other statues in a forest of huge flowers - they were as tall as trees. All other statues were fauns or centaurs; I alone was a girl child so beautiful you'd think I was a doll.  One of the faun-statues slowly moved his eyes on me. He stared for a while; then he left his base, stepped toward me and started caressing my body. I could not move under any circumstances- so it was stated in the script. But I made my stone-body so soft that it felt like the skin of a baby. I managed to widen my eyes and make them shine like emeralds and tears came out of them. The faun was mad with desire and he went on caressing me and whispering sweet words in my ear. The whole thing was perverted - it was sick! The faun disgusted me and I hated his shivering hands on my body and his coarse voice in my ear. But I played my role not showing even for a while my aversion and I must have done very well for I was asked to go back two more times. This is as much as we can play -three times; then somebody else has to take over. I don't know why this is so, but this is the rule. I was not happy to go back; I suspected that the guy who had ordered this script was into kids. I am as professional as you can think, but I also have principles. I was so revolted that after the first time I dryly told my agent that I would not go back. He gave me the nightmare panther dress - my wage for the first time. Then he showed me the diamond necklace I would get if I accepted to do two more performances. He shrugged and told me that he could give it back if I wanted to stop. I sighed; I shut up and did the job. You see, my love for jewels is much stronger than my principles and those diamonds were splendid!

Gems and jewels were the main reason why I was attracted to this job in the first place. Later I became fond of my work and it turned out that I also had talent. This is why I get those amazing jewels while others only receive amber or moonstone-made jewels, even though they are in the business much longer than I am. The others mock me for my strong belief in my capacities. I know that they nicknamed me "The Diva" and they call me so behind my back. In front of me they're all smiles, but our kin is not reputed for sincerity. Jealousy also is a common feature in us and it is obvious that they are green with envy.

They are probably right to be jealous; I do not need a Lord to give me beautiful things. I earn them thanks to my talent and this is something very few of us can do. Look- the amethyst earrings and the big amethyst ring on my finger were my pay for this other role where I had to pretend to be dead. Arrayed in a beautiful dress made of black silk and violet lace, I lay in the most sumptuous funeral bed. The room in an old castle was only illuminated by a few candles around the bed.  A handsome young man sat beside me; he held my hands in his and he cried. His face was paler than mine and I knew that he loved me with all his heart, even though I was dead. Well - actually he was in love with the woman I pretended to be, but his love was strong and genuine. He kissed my cold lips and his tears gently dripped onto my face. He was so sad… He rested his head on my chest and sobbed. Sorrow hanged all around the place like a cobweb labyrinth that could capture me and lose me in its depths. Without thinking, I moved my hand and caressed his hair. "I love you," I whispered into his mind. He stared at me his eyes welled up with tears. "Do you forgive me?" He was shivering and I could feel his distress. I knew that he meant it; he really was sorry. I opened my eyes, gazed at him lovingly. "I do forgive you, my beloved. How could I resent you? I love you more than everything in the world!" He was not relieved at my words; he kept crying and I could sense his anguish. He would never forgive himself. Something big was going on here. He didn't just miss the woman he loved; nor did he only worry for not telling her how much he loved her before she died.

He had probably caused her death, even though she was so dear to him.

The amethyst jewels I received as compensation proved that I was right. Guilt due to grief doesn't pay you amethysts- at most you can get jet jewellery out of it. Normally, I am not supposed to know those things; my job is just to play the role, not to figure out the meaning of the script. But I can't help it; I just sense hidden things. This is why I am so much better than the others. If only I could choose my scripts…

My agent is terribly late. I'll scold him for this. I am getting tired of this party; it is so boring! One of the Lords dances a fire-tango with a pretty starlet. The others have formed a circle around them; they watch them and applaud. I am not impressed. I dance much better than she does. But right now, I don't feel like dancing. I just want to go at my place and rest; my last role has exhausted me. To be honest, if I could, I would choose more roles like that one. I so enjoyed performing that I could have done it for nothing. Of course, I'll never let my agent know this!

At first, it seemed that this role was easier than the others. I was in a room with a young man and we were about to make love. I liked him; it was going to be pleasant. Then the girl entered the room. He did not seem to notice her presence; he went on kissing and caressing me. The girl watched us and she was sad and angry. Her kind of sadness had nothing to do with the grief I sensed in the man who had murdered his wife; the girl was jealous. I could say this with certainty as jealousy is in the nature of my kin. There was something attractive in her jealousy - it was sensual! She really loved the young man, she abhorred my presence.

When he saw her, his attitude changed completely. His mind was only for her; it seemed as though roles were reverted: now I was the intruder. I tried to understand what went on here - it was so weird!

The solution flashed in my mind like a lightning among stormy clouds. Tempest was not a mere metaphor here; the atmosphere was charged with emotions. Jealousy. Guilt. Deep love. And desire - powerful and unfulfilled desire. Those two kids were passionately in love with each other, but they could not be together. It was as if a curse prevented them from being a couple. Something that already existed between them; a strong link… I sensed that the young man was the more reluctant, even though he was as much in love as she was. Without a second thought, I took her shape, approached him and kissed his lips. He embraced me and we made love. Details are irrelevant; suffice it to say it was - divine!!!

Last night I went there for the third and last time and - believe me - I am so sorry I can't go back! I only hope that whoever will take over the role will care about them as much as I did. Nonsense! She will probably not even know what is going on; not everybody has my skills. I don't expect much payment either. I'll be happy if I get a sapphire bracelet. But that's how it goes - those kids were brother and sister and incest pays less that the lust for innocent or the torment for having killed the love of your life. Even so, if I could choose, I would go back to them. They enjoyed being together and when they made love it was so healthy - no perversion, no sorrow hanging around like a mad spider ready to devour you. People sometimes think that we cause those negative things so they fear us. They're wrong - we can only arouse desire. The rest is in the mind of the one who makes the script.

I stared as the main gate opened - did my agent arrive, at last? Somebody came in and everybody stopped whatever they were doing and headed for the door; they were all smiles and bows. It's not for my agent that they would have gone into all this trouble; he is not that important. The one who just entered the room is the big Boss - the Lord of Darkness in person.

Of course, I think absentmindedly while I can't take my eyes off him. Who else could afford night sky velvet to cover sofas and a moon to illuminate the room?

He is breathlessly handsome! I would never imagine that someone could be so attractive; I almost faint at his mere sight. Yet I don't move from my place. With one hand I stroke the velvet sofa cover while sipping the drink that I hold in my other hand. All the other female guests have left their drinks and their companions to gather around him like moths around a resplendent flame. Desire blazes in me, scorching my insides like an exquisite fire, but I stay on the sofa almost as motionless as a statue - those roles must have taught me something.

I turn my eyes into amethysts; I know that this is what shows my face at its best. I stare at him while crossing my legs provocatively. I know that I look gorgeous; I diffuse a perfume of desire stronger than all the expensive fragrances of the guests gathered together. It works. He stares back at me and I sense immediately that he likes me. Our kin have no reluctances when it comes to desire; we are fast and straight. Before I know, I am dancing with him; we are whirling around at the rhythm of the music like flower petals at the gentle caress of the night breeze.

I ignore the females gazing at me mentally cursing me with death spells - they can't touch me or he'll turn them to ashes. I ignore the eyes of the Lords, glowing with desire and locked on me - they cannot have me any more; I am only his from now on. I only dart a glance to my agent that has just arrived. He winks at me and lifts his glass to drink to my success. Of a sudden, I know why he invited me here and I feel extremely grateful. I'll keep him, even though my status will completely change from that night on. I will not find better than him anyway.

I wink at him too and then I forget everything and everybody and I only focus on the sulphurous perfume of my partner. I am dazzled as we keep dancing - we whirl around graciously like a fairy tale in the mind of a dreamer.



I have not given up my job - I love it too much. Of course, now, I only take the roles I like best. If you want me in your dreams, send your request via my agent. Just light a red candle, look at the waning moon and mentally pronounce my name three times. Bear in mind that I am very expensive - you will have to pay the equivalent of whatever dark thought of yours you want me to bring to life in precious stones and my personal designer will turn them to jewels. But I am worth the price. I am the diva of the infernal sirens; I am the beloved companion of Lord Morning Star. I am the foremost of the nightmare demons; I am the Queen of Hell.