Content warning: this story is based on the fantasy that stage magicians with real powers are - without most of the audience realising - actually sawing, slicing or transforming their assistants and volunteers for real, but with the aid of magic that prevents them suffering any lasting harm and which transforms their experience into one they can even enjoy. And of course they’re all restored at the end (eventually, anyway!)


The Jensen’s Stage Supplies Halloween party was going pretty well Mistress Finella thought, and she was sure that was at least as much due to her presence as a magic sideshow as it was due to the free bar. So far she’d transformed the IT Manager’s head into a pumpkin lantern and one of the Accounts Payable staff into a floating spectre, as well as performing half a dozen other, less spectacular, tricks.

She wasn’t the only stage magician at the party though. Her friend and rival Dominique had set up at the far end of the room. Every now and then Finella had glimpsed the other woman when the crowds parted. She’d also seen some of the Dominique’s handiwork as the evening progressed, such as the man she’d transformed into a shirtless werewolf and who was now chatting with Finella’s spectral Phoebe.

So far Finella and Dominique had kept out of each other’s way, but now it was time for that to change. There was the matter of the bet, after all. Finella checked that her more dangerous props were secure then went over to greet her friend and rival.

Finella waited while the other lady to finished her trick (inking several spiders on a man’s arm then animating them so that they scurried up and down). Only once Dominique released the man to go show off his new magical tattoos to all his colleagues did Finella speak.

“Hi, Dominique!”

“Oh, hi Finella,” the Dominique replied. “Business brisk?”

“Yup. Brisker than yours this last season too, though only just. 1328 tickets sold, to your 1303.” She paused. “Which means I win the bet and you’re mine for the rest of the evening!”

“Yeah,” Dominique replied. “Close run thing, but you won fair and square. So where do you want me and what do you need me to do?”

Finella guided the woman back over to her side of the room. Dominique was wearing tight black leather trousers and a black leather cropped corset that left her midriff bare as well as showcasing her generous of cleavage through the gaps in the widely spaced lacing. The top would do fine for what she had in mind, Finella thought, but the trousers would have to go. Finella ushered Dominque behind a screen and bid her change out of the trousers and into a short black leather skirt and black leather ankle boots. Knowing Dominique’s measurements from their previous work together, Finella had had everything ready.

By the time Dominique emerged in her new costume, a small crowd had already gathered. There were several low whistles as the woman paraded up and down. Finella let her bask in the applause for a moment before gesturing for her to come stand at her side.

“So far I’ve given you a pumpkin lantern and a phantom,” Finella told the onlookers. “But of course no Halloween party would be complete without a vampire. Which is where Dominique here comes in. She’s ‘volunteered’ to be bitten and transformed into a vile bloodsucking monster.” Finella paused a moment before adding, “Assuming she’s not one already!”

That got some chuckles from the audience. Dominique stuck her tongue out in response, raising more laughs. Finella waited for the noise to die down before continuing.

“Now poor Dominique here has been captured and locked up by a cult of vampire wannabes. They haven’t been able to find a real vampire to turn them, but they have managed to locate the blood of the last known vampire and they’ve worked out how to use that to turn themselves. Of course, not being totally stupid, they decide to test their diabolical method on someone else first, which is why they’ve snatched this innocent young woman.”

Dominique raised an eyebrow at that description of herself, earning a few more chuckles. Even Finella couldn’t resist a wry smile. After all, Dominique was known in magic circles as someone who got through men like no-one’s business. Finella wouldn’t be surprised if Dominique had slept with at least half the single men here, given her contacts with the company and her voracious sexual appetites.

“And here is the machine the cultists invented to administer the bite,” Finella continued, gesturing to one of the two vertical poles that had already featured in several of her tricks. For this illusion, she’d fitted it with a clear rigid plastic collar at neck level, above a wooden board large enough to support the whole of a person’s back. The board also sported a pair of metal wrist restraint hoops, fixed one on either side at about hip height. Finella let the audience take it in, then walked over and opened the collar, beckoning to Dominique.

“The victim is restrained thus,” she said, closing the collar with a snap then padlocking it securely, before doing the same with the wrist restraints.

“As you can see,” Finella continued, “the collar has two slots here.” She gestured to two horizontal slits, each about an inch long and a quarter inch wide, situated one above the other on the left side of Dominique’s neck. The other feature of the collar, about which she didn’t say anything yet, was a small metal post fixed to the collar further round towards the back.

Dominique put on a show of trying to wriggle free. Of course it was futile. Finella smiled with satisfaction, then turned her back on her victim and went over to the table.

Finella picked up a narrow piece of metal and held it up for the audience to see. The prop was just over six inches long and an inch wide, and was curved like a section cut from a metal hoop of a small barrel. At one end was a hoop sized to match the post on the collar and form a hinge. At the other end was a pair of flat, triangular metal spikes about three inches long, wickedly sharp, and with nasty serrations down the inside edge. As Finella hefted the lump of metal, it was obvious that it was quite heavy for its size, very rigid and completely solid.

Without another word, Finella carried the metal item over to where Dominique stood restrained, lifting it into place on the clear collar. The two halves of the hinge came together with a clunk, lining the triangular spikes up with the slots on the collar. She demonstrated how the heavy strip could now swing like a door. It was obvious to everyone that if it was slammed closed then the spikes would go through the slots and deep into Dominique’s neck.

The audience had got substantially larger as Finella had been setting the apparatus up. Now she invited one of them to come up and check the solidity of the collar and the spiked metal attached to it, and convince himself that there was no way to close it without fatally stabbing poor Dominique. The man poked and prodded, before announcing that there was indeed no trickery.

“Good,” Finella replied. “So now I can pick up our tale. Dominique has been kidnapped to be the unwilling test subject for a machine designed to turn people into vampires by use of some ancient vampiric blood. The head of the cult takes the vial of vampire blood and coats the tips of the spikes with the precious ruby liquid.” At this Finella produced a small glass test tube and unstoppered it, pouring some of the red fluid onto his finger before smearing it around the ends of both spikes.

“Then after some chanting - which I’ll spare you - he eases the spikes slowly into his victim’s neck.” With that, Finella took hold of the audience member’s right hand and guided it to the end of the spiked hinged flap, covering his hand with hers so that she could control the process.

Slowly she eased the spikes inwards, until the tips slid into the slots of the clear collar. Dominique winced, her fingers clenching into fists, but Finella didn’t let up, continuing the slow, even pressure that was driving the spikes ever so gradually deeper into the poor woman’s neck.

When the spikes were about half way in, Finella stopped. She eased her hands away, leaving the male volunteer confused.

“Hit it,” she said. “Give it a good firm whack and drive it all the way home.” The volunteer looked uncertain, then steeled himself and balled his hand into a fist, slamming it hard against the metal and completing the penetration of Dominique’s neck in less than a heartbeat.

Dominique cried out, then gurgled. Her eyes rolled. She shuddered, then sagged, hanging limp and apparently lifeless from her restraints.

Finella heard gasps from a few of the audience, but the majority remained silent, waiting on tenterhooks to see what would happen next. Working in the magic industry, even if as suppliers rather than practitioners, they knew enough of stage magic to realise this couldn’t be all there was to the trick.

Finella waited too, drawing things out. The tension grew palpable. Suddenly Dominque’s eyes snapped open and her body stiffened, the colour draining from it to leave her a chalky white. The changed woman stared at the audience, her mouth opening in an evil grin. Ever so slowly, her canines elongated to become wicked fangs.

With her fangs were fully extended, Dominique was a fearsome sight. She slowly tilted her head sideways, examining each member of the audience hungrily. Then, without any warning, she jerked forward, snapping her teeth. The volunteer flinched and Dominique laughed at his frightened response. Compared to her regular laugh, normally deep but friendly, this was cold and chilling.

Finella had not flinched, however. Still completely composed, she addressed her audience. “As you can see, ladies and gentlemen, the test has worked. Dominique is now transformed into a bloodsucking vampire. But the cultists only chose her to be a test subject. They have no need of her as a fully transformed vampire. Indeed, not being loyal to them she is now a positive danger. For the safety of the acolytes who wait their turn, she must be put down.” Finella paused. “And there is one sure fire way to kill a vampire.”

While she talked, Finella had been slowly making her way back to the table. She reached down and picked up a wooden stake, and a mallet, carrying them back to the volunteer. Dominique watched and hissed.

Finella handed the stake to the volunteer. “Put your left hand against her ribs,” she said. “Flat. Just below her left breast.” The volunteer approached Dominique gingerly, jumping back when the woman snapped her teeth at him.

Finella rolled her eyes. She waved her hand in front of Dominique’s face, and the vampire instantly ceased her struggles, her eyes sagging half closed. Then Finella motioned for the volunteer to try again.

The man placed his hand carefully, just as instructed. Dominique didn’t react. Then, again at Finella’s prompting, he opened up his thumb and forefinger and placed the tip of the stake between them, pressing it hard into the leather of her black corset. Finella helped him hold it there as he took hold of the mallet and swung it.

Thump! The first blow caused the corset to dent inwards, but the material didn’t split and the stake simply rebounded.

“Harder!” Finella commanded.

Thump! This time everyone heard the rip of leather and the crack of ribs as the stake jerked forward an inch into Dominique’s body and stuck there.

“Again.”

The third blow drove the stake another two inches in. Dominique opened her eyes and cried out, though whether in pain or anger it was impossible to tell. The volunteer didn’t need any further urging. He swung the mallet again and again, the first few blows provoking further screams from the vampire, which soon faded to low sobbing whimpers.

A final swing of the mallet resulted in a loud crack. The board behind Dominique shuddered as the point of the stake was driven through her smashed shoulder blade and into the wood.

Finella took the volunteer’s hand and eased him away from the stricken vampire. Her pallid vampiric complexion had now turned ashen grey and webs of black lines were spreading down across her belly and appearing on her neck, seemingly radiating from where the stake penetrated her chest. Finella patted the volunteer on the back.

“Well done,” she said. “That should weaken our vampire enough to make her safe. There’s no need to finish her off. At least not so long as she behaves.” She paused, then addressed her fellow magician. “If I let you free you’ll promise to be a good little vampire? No biting the guests?”

Dominique stared back, scowled, then nodded.

“Hmmmm,” Finella mused. “That sounded a bit reluctant.” She paused. “I’ll let you free, but I think I should keep the stake in you for the moment.” With her course of action decided, Finella quickly undid the cuffs around Dominique’s wrists, tugged the spiked arm out of her neck and then unclipped the collar. She put her arms on Dominique’s sides and tugged, yanking the woman - stake and all - from the apparatus.

Dominique staggered a bit, then stood up straight. She nodded to Finella, who released her, then she held her arms out and turned slowly around, letting everyone see the stake passing right through her torso. Although her corset concealed the entry and exit wounds, it was clearly one single piece of wood and exactly the same length as it had been before, so there was no way it could be trickery. It really was stuck all the way through Dominique’s ribcage and out the other side.

The audience clapped and Dominique even managed a bow, though she did wince slightly. Finella pursed her lips with concern, but Dominique just winked and mouthed a silent I’ll get you later. Then she turned her back on Finella, threading her way into the crowd after the volunteer with a cry of “Hey, you, come back here. You owe me a drink to make up for sticking that ruddy great stake in me!”


THE END


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