NIGHTBREED

CHAPTER 2 – Waiting for the Night

2007, October 8th, streets of Paris

The sky above Paris is slowly stripping its fancy blue dress, exposing bare grayish skin, occasionally marked by a black scar of cloud. On the south shines a single beauty mark – the make-up artist didn´t make it big enough - the first star. It is still possible to walk the uneven streets without stumbling over unseen objects, but what human eyes can perceive are mostly just shapes, forms, undefined spots - no details. Soon enough, the city will be brightly illuminated… This uncertainty which leaves you on doubts, if the person you have just seen on the other side of the street was really substantial, will be erased by quickly spreading golden lamplight that takes away some of the spookiness of the historical city, but leaves just enough mysteries to still have something to discover and to marvel at.

Mana walks swiftly but without extra effort up the cobblestoned street, stops at the corner to check the map and turns right. He resembles a black ghost as he moves forwards, slides through the darkness like a knife through fresh butter, attracting the curious eyes of random passersby. It is exactly 9.25 pm and his final destination is close enough to be reached at 9.30, which means things are going according to the plan. Mana is always on time, never too early, never too late – that’s one of his countless little quirks. He is alone.

Earlier that day, he asked Seth to phone the booking office, hoping to buy the ghost tour tickets for the entire band. Unfortunately, a polite but resolute female voice informed them that the event was fully sold out due to its popularity and low frequency ­– once per month. However, she thought it possible to sneak in one more extra person, just because they were from such a faraway place and unlikely to come back to Paris any time soon, but she stressed it can be just one - definitely not five. The boys of course insisted that Mana should go; after all, it was him who had found out about the event and who had been looking forward to it the most, while the rest of them could easily have as much fun in one of the clubs. He didn´t protest. Yes, he had been looking forwards to sharing that experience with the others, but it would be much better to see the wonders of Paris after dark alone, than not to see them at all.

And so he finally passes an old church, St. Nicolas, to see rue de Turbigo cutting the rue Réamur, follows the path he had imprinted into his memory by studying the map and makes a few steps to the east. There he turns into rue Volta and, eyes inspecting the old buildings, tries to read the numbers, blurred out by time - 2, 4, 8, this is it. However, something is wrong here... His eyes wander to the flyer in his hand, then back up to the street sign. The name is correct, the number as well, it is exactly half past, but something MUST be wrong, because there should be other people waiting, lots of people actually, yet the street is deserted but for a lonely bird rustling in the leaves under a nearby maple. If Seth wasn´t lying, and Mana honestly couldn’t imagine why he would have been, the event is supposed to be completely booked out, and somehow it is difficult to believe that everyone except for him would be late.

Mana is still looking around in slight puzzlement when the row of street lamps light up, one by one, like a sparkling chain, and uncover a single male silhouette that was hidden in the shadow of a tree on the opposite side of the street before. Something in the casual way in which this man is leaning against the wall makes him appear to be a mere decoration, an asset, a stone statue that had always been a part of the old house. He belongs to it like a gargoyle belongs to a gothic cathedral, and Mana silently regrets that he cannot paint a picture or take a photograph of that scene.

„Good evening“,  the figure suddenly greets him, and Mana realizes with a start that he has already heard that deep but youthful voice quite a short time ago, „are you here for the tour?“ Mana nods and moves towards the young man, whose name he already forgot, although he still remembers his distinguished style very well. „Where is everyone? Have they already left?“ he asks without thinking. In the next second, Mana´s gloved hands fly up to his face to cover that famous heart shaped mouth, eyes widen in what may be surprise, shock, or sheer horror, and an unusually strong feeling of anxiety spills through his spine into his intestines like icy water. For the first time in many years, so many that he doesn´t even recollect if it actually ever happened at all, he has allowed someone who had not previously won his trust to hear his voice, and what scares him the most is the undeniable fact that it came absolutely naturally. He is certain that he had not been planning to speak before he opened his mouth, no, had not even considered to attempt to. Although he of course wanted to know why nobody was present, no intention to ask was there at all. Simply put, in one moment, he was looking at the French boy, and in the next moment… the question was in the air and his brain only belatedly indentified the raised voice as his own.

It takes all of Mana´s mental capacity to try and understand how on Earth this could be possible, wherefore he leaves Étienne´s answer unnoticed at first. Only slowly, the alarming truth creeps into the folds of his brain: the young man has just calmly replied with: „We are perfectly complete.“ Mana blinks. Not just once, but several times, his richly painted lashes almost causing wind. „…Excuse me?“ Minutes seem to pass before Étienne confirms: „Nobody else was supposed to arrive.“

Mana finally understands. Of course, it was not difficult for one who knew something about Mana to figure out that a ghost tour in his most favourite city would intrigue him, and cleverly place a bunch of ready-made flyers in the hall, close to the table where Mana would be sitting. The female voice who spoke to Seth, pretending to work in a fake agency, could be anyone – this sick boy´s sister, colleague or even a girlfriend. There is no booked out tour… or, more preciously, there isn´t a tour at all, just one desperate fan who, for some unknown reason, wanted to lure him out for… what exactly? An interview? Photos to sell later? Private date? „I do not posses waste knowledge of the laws in your country“, he hisses towards Étienne, „but I am sure that with this indecency, you broke quite a few of them. And I warn you – whatever it is you desire from me, you will not get it. Au revoir.“

„From you?“ Mana hears from behind, and the voice seems to reflect amazement mixed with a certain taste of innocence and sincerity. „I do not want anything from you. On the contrary, I would like to give you something.“ The guitarist has already turned on his heel and started walking, but these words make him slow down his pace – another surprising occurrence. Surprising because the slender Japanese is used to giving people chances about as little as he is used to verbally communicating. He doesn´t completely stop, though, but continues moving in the direction he came from with very moderate steps, intending to show that although he might be willing to listen, the person who has tricked him will have to put some extra effort into achieving it.

The boy´s steps are so light, so quiet, and his running so effortless, that Mana doesn´t hear a single noise of soles brushing against cobblestones, nor quickened breath, yet the boy suddenly catches up with him and walks on his side for a while, then rushes forwards to stop him. They are now standing face to face, dark and green eyes firmly locked, two men judging each other, trying to read the thoughts behind each other´s sparkling set of gem-like orbs, guessing who will, or who should, do the next move and where would that move lead them. The taller man is bending down ever so slightly, while Mana´s eyes are rolled upwards, but his head is in the position it would have been in if he were looking at someone of similar height to his own, he refuses to admit he has to look up to anyone. „Don´t go. Please“, Étienne finally says, and once again Mana is surprised at the gentleness and sincerity of his pleading, „you came because you are interested to see Paris in a different light than what anyone else would present you. I am here and I can make it happen.“

Mana gives him a pensive look. „Why should I trust you?“ He no longer wonders about his sudden ability to communicate with strangers – it isn´t any stranger than the rest of the evening´s happenings. „What if you are a murderer or a rapist? What if you are a kidnapper and your friends are waiting in the darkness where no one would ever look for me and will require all my fortune to return me in one piece?“ Mana could swear he has spotted amusement shining out of Étienne´s eyes. Is he being foolish enough to be laughed at? „There is nothing to be afraid of this night.“ That touches Mana´s pride as precisely as Vilhelm Tell has aimed at the apple. „I do NOT fear“, he seconds, much like a child. „Shall we go then?“ Étienne gloats in a false feeling of victory, but Mana quickly regains his usual disinterested expression. „Ten minutes.“ The boy´s left eyebrow flies up in puzzlement. „You have ten minutes to persuade me that you do know things that might be of interest for me and that you aren´t a greedy liar.“ „Deal.“ Étienne´s smile is the one a hungry wolf dedicates to a lamb before luring it away from the herd into deep dark forests and Mana´s hand subconsciously slips into the pocket where he is keeping a knife. Just in case.

„Incidentally, the house at the end of the street I chose for our meeting, happens to be the oldest house in Paris still standing“, Étienne starts talking as both men walk back towards number 3. „I thought it was the auberge built in 1407 by Nicolas Flamel“, Mana tries to outsmart him with his knowledge. „That is what people like to think ever since the Harry Potter books were issued and misguided everyone“, Étienne corrects him, „and of course, as greed frequents to be the biggest part of human character, the owners of that house made a sensation out of it. Back in 2001, they refurbished it with all the posh stuff – 17th century paneled corridors, 15th century vaulted cellars, dining room that sits fourteen, reading room, sauna, entrance hall with glass floor above, atrium with 18th century fireplaces and stone floor… but of course all with air conditioning and cable tv so it fits your needs when you are a millionaire and want to rent it.“

 „This one was built in 1240 and has been lived in ever since... Two hundred and fifty years before America was discovered, and it is still solid today! Louis the 9th was on the throne then, and this was country… On one side the old Temple could be seen from here, and on the other, the turreted walls of Paris, all about were Gross, gardens and twisting paths, many of which have become the stress of this old part of town.“ Mana pretends not to be even mildly impressed and follows Étienne to closely inspect the house no. 3. „Notice the arrangement of doors and windows“, the younger man points out. „See the stone coping here in the basement? This is called show-window, which used to hold the lower half of the shutter as a counter at which business was done. The upper half of the shutter made an awning.“

„It looks empty now“, Mana remarks, fingers lightly touching the old wood. „Indeed. After the second world war, it was returned to some distant relative of the previous owners in restitution. It was a strange guy in his early twenties. Apparently no one has ever seen him leaving the house or returning into it ever since the day he moved in. But, every time someone thought this guy had left or died, and tried to enter – no matter if it was a random guest, the mailman or an employee of a company interested in selling the house – the lights in the upper floor went on. The saying goes that he still lives there… though why he never walks out is in the clouds.“

Mana gives Étienne an expressionless look. He expected the story to end up more mysteriously, with a murder, ghost that rustle chains on request or at least random objects falling on the heads of those who had attempted to unravel the mystery. „This story was rather lame…“ he remarks and, following a sudden impulse, bangs on the ancient door with all his power. He hadn’t expected anything to happen, and nothing does, only the echo of the empty house returns his knocks several times like a cave would have. „You aren´t trying to enter“, Étienne informs him meekly. „Of course, it is just a story, but anyway… you are just making a lot of noise.“ And again, Mana feels like he has to prove he isn´t afraid, although it is nonsense – this boy is a French brat who just wants some time alone with his idol, nothing else. Definitely the last person on the Earth whom Mana should prove something, more likely, he should tell him that those aforementioned ten minutes were up and he would now be immediately returning to the hotel. He knows that, yet he puts his small hand on the doorknob and attempts to turn it.

His effort is followed by sheer disappointment: the door doesn´t move an inch and the golden knob is merely turning in his fingers, trying to slip out like a fish. He squeezes it and tries to support himself by putting a boot against the door, so gaining stability. Then, he pushes again and almost physically feels the light spilling over his hair, sliding over his shoulders like a sparkling cloud, covering his body and pooling around his feet, entering every single cobblestone, causing them to glow from inside. Nonsense.

With eyes shut, he stumbles several steps backwards, slowly turns his face towards the windows in the upper floor and looks. In all the rooms, the lights are on, shining brighter than any of the windows of the reconstructed buildings around, so intensively that it does not impose any problem to observe the furnishings behind the window panes: ancient cupboards and wardrobes, a vanity table with a huge mirror, large comfortable chairs, crystal chandeliers, a statue of a mermaid leaning on the piano with an elegance only supernatural beings and j-rockers can posses… But not a single silhouette or shadow of a human being. "Impressive", he mumbles under his breath and turns to Étienne to praise his trick, but the boy is standing several meters away, eyes widened in shock, head tilted backwards as he gapes into the windows breathlessly. He hasn´t done anything, Mana suddenly realizes, he only told me a story about which he didn´t think it was true...