Crimson "Dizzy" Holloway's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

Dizzy reached the funhouse at full dark. The old building leaned under the moon, its faded panels cracked and peeling. She found the stone gate behind it, sunk in the earth, and climbed down into the noise below. The tunnels shook with drums and shouting. Finals had begun. She smoked the last of Annie's rolled leaves before her name was called. Her eyes grew heavy. She stepped onto the stage half asleep. Then the dream took her. She stood in the tunnels she had rehearsed a hundred times inside her mind. She knew every beat. Her mouth moved on its own and the words came clean. Her hands rose and the pins spun. Outside the dream, her real body did the same. She walked the routine while she slept, steering it from within, just as Annie promised. No racing heart. No shaking. Only the rhythm she owned. The crowd went quiet, then broke. They stood on their chairs. They shouted her name. Someone knocked over a bench. The pins landed in her palms one after another, and she spat the last verse without a stumble. She dreamed the finish and her body bowed. Whoop whoop, the crowd roared, loud enough to shake dust from the tunnel roof. A hand caught her shoulder as she stepped off. She woke to a short man with a painted skull face, black and white, his hair long under a bandana. A chain hung at his throat. He grinned wide. "You just took the whole room down, little sister," he said. "I'm Violent J. I run this Gathering." He held up a battered tin crown. His grin dropped a notch. "Judges want you back tomorrow. One more round. Two of you left standing." Dizzy blinked, still half in the dream. "I thought this was finals." "It was." He turned the crown in his hands. "But you tied. Some cat did his set clean too. So there's a runoff. Tomorrow night, same gate." He pressed the crown against her chest, then pulled it back. "Can't give you this yet, honey. Gotta earn it twice." Her stomach dropped. The leaves were gone. She had smoked the last of them to fall asleep tonight. Without the smoke she couldn't reach the dream, and without the dream her hands would shake and her heart would race the old way. Violent J was already walking off. She grabbed his sleeve. "Who's the other one? Who tied me?" He laughed and nodded toward the far tunnel. A man stood in the shadows there, watching her. Thin. Scratching his arm. She knew that dry laugh before she saw his face. Jessie. "He said you'd fold without him," Violent J said. "Guess we'll see tomorrow." Dizzy stood alone as the crowd emptied out. She had won the night and lost her cushion. One more round, no leaves left, and Jessie waiting on the other side of the gate.