Page 4 of The Paranormal Investigation Bureau
Beyla
My excitement waned as I read through the history of the ballet. The file on it wasn’t huge, and I got the feeling it was missing information… most likely deliberately. This was a dossier put together by Marsden King, the artistic director ofThe P.He was an Unseelie, and whatever his reason for leaving information out was, it surely didn’t bode well for me. I knew he’d want to trade for that information, and the deal wouldn’t go in my favor.
Marsden’s dossier was mostly about the plot and production and contained nothing about why they required a federal undercover agent to stop anyone from fucking dying! This didn’t help me. I had no idea if I’d be walking into an infestation of angry spirits or a cursed ballet. I didn’t even know the first thing about lifting a curse from a ballet.
The ballet itself sounded fascinating, though I wasn’t sure how it would have been received one hundred a fifty years ago. I knew human ballet patrons, and this would have pissed them off as they had certain expectations from ballet.
A wealthy immigrant from Mexico was married to one of the stars atThe P.There were rumors he was involved in criminal activities. He’d agreed to donate atonof money toThe Pif they would produce a ballet based on something he’d written, and make his ballerina wife the star.
That kind of patronage didn’t happen anymore, but there was once a time it did. Still, a company wouldn’t have taken a risk on a ballet likeThe Sugar Skull Girlunless it was either sure to bring in enough money to deal with any fallout if it flopped, or it would be so controversial that everyone would be talking about it.
The Sugar Skull Girlwas pretty dark, but most ballets are. I mean, shit, Siegfried and Odette both die at the end ofSwan Lake.Then there’sGiselle, who goes mad with heartbreak and kills herself and gets inducted to a clan of ghosts called Wilis. They go on to murder Hilarion, when he’d done nothing wrong but tell the truth, then they try to kill Albrecht, but he survives.
Humanslovedthose two ballets. Many ballerinas trained their entire lives, hoping to someday dance the dual role of Odette and Odile, or Giselle. Audiences were totally fine with the prince and the princess dying at the end, they were okay with murder. People were equally happy with lighter ballets where everyone lived happily ever after.
The Sugar Skull Girlfollowed a peasant girl in Mexico, who had four warriors fighting for her attention. A sword fight breaks out, and Damita tries to break it up. One of the warriors,El Gato Blanco,accidentally stabs her, and she dies.
The four warriors make peace with each other. OnDia De Los Muertos,they have the most beautiful sugar skull made of her as an offering. They place it on the altar and pray for her soul. The power of their love moves her spirit into the sugar skull, and she comes back to life. The grande finale is this massive wedding, where the five of them perform solos that depict characters from Mexican folklore.
Personally, I loved everything about the plot of this ballet, but I knew what human ballet patrons would think about it. They were totally fine with everyone dying or someone getting murdered for no reason, but if there was a love triangle in the plot, they would want a clear resolution. They’d want her to choose.
There needed to be someone they wanted to get the girl, and someone they wanted to lose. If there were four warriors, and the village girl died, they’d want the man who accidentally killed her to get stabbed. They’d want blood. There should be an epic stage fight, where only one warrior was left standing, and he would be the one that got the girl in the end.
Frankly, I thought a little village girl taming four warriors was the way to go.
But what went so wrong the first time that caused the ballet to be pulled? Whatever it was, people died every time someone tried to stage this ballet again. Angry spirits could make things fall from the rafters and cause accidents, sure, but they couldn’t pick up knives and stab people. Cursed objects could definitely influence someone to murder another.
Marsden had made detailed notes about the ballet's score, but not a fucking word about the death toll attached to it. I learned that there was a single violinist and cellist, upstage left, who played the entire score and then there was an entire page about the music… butnothingthat would actually help me.
I mopped my hand down my face. I’d never been very good at sitting at a desk, and my back was getting stiff. I didn’t care who saw me. I stood up and pressed my palms to the floor. I rested my face against my shins and gave my hamstrings a good stretch.
Marsden may not have given me what I needed, but you could find anything on the internet. Some conspiracy theory nuthadto have gotten wind of this and dissected it and would probably have found a lot more details than Marsden.
Google totally failed me. I found plenty on the Macbeth curse, and various other theatrical superstitions. It was all just general stuff though, like how dancers don’t wish each other good luck before a show but instead say ‘break a leg.’Hell, some dancers saymerdebefore a show… because we’re a filthy bunch!
The Pmust have paid out some serious hush money to ensure that none of this made its way onto the internet. That didn’t bode well for me. They wanted me there, but they weren’t giving me the tools to do my job.
Sometimes, during a challenging class or performance, I’d swear ballet was going to kill me one day. I was starting to suspect that day could very well be coming up.
Chapter5
Arden
Marsden was up to something, and it wasn’t his usual bullshit of fucking anything that moves. Weallknew why Celia got that last solo, and it wasn’t her technique. She was the flavor of the month. None of us complained when his magical Fae cock brought in money from wealthy women, but seriously, could he at least leave the ballerinas alone? There was always drama in the studio when he moved on.
Massive stacks of non-disclosure agreements were handed out to be signed before he finally told us that the ballet on the schedule wasto be announced.Oh, and the asshole made us sign in blood! Everyone was so excited to find out what it was that they didn't even read it before signing.
I wasn’t stupid. Marsden might have once been one of the most famous male dancers in the supernatural community, but he was still a fucking Unseelie. Nothing good ever came from making deals with them in blood. I poured through every inch of that NDA.
Why would the artistic director of a famous ballet company want the entire cast and crew totally silent about an upcoming performance? Why the fuck did any of us need to signin bloodthat we wouldn’t hold the company liable for anything that could happen during the run of this show?
That was some shady shit, even for Marsden.
Still, Marsden was eccentric and a bit of a revolutionary which was the entire reason anyone stayed here and danced under him. We put up witha lotof shit from him, and his male PMS was the worst. This blood contract could either mean he was planning a publicity stunt and a fantastic new ballet, or just be a sign of another mood swing.
You could be injured at any time doing even regular ballet, but it was never fatal. This had to be a stunt. I pricked my finger and reluctantly signed my name in blood. I was the last to hand him the contract.
I was so confused when he told us he was pulling out an old piece that’d never been performed for a live audience. Marsden gave us the plot and had a cellist and violinist come in and play a part of the score. I got a little excited. I was a shoo-in forEl Gato Blanco.I always got the bad boy parts, and horny older women loved me. Ballet galas were super awkward.
