Page 2 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Underworld

The screams are ear-piercing, and though it’s hard to make out their faces, I see the way they jump. I don’t give them time to recover, letting out a loud groan, my hands — covered in fake rotting wounds — outstretched as I lunge towards the group.

They run, and the chase is on.

“I sawyou dancing out there in the dark, in between groups.”

I turn at the sound of the feminine voice, out of place in the men’s dressing room. Kayla, the only other orc currently on Haunted’s roster, leans against the doorway, her muscular arms crossed over her chest, and her long dark braid hanging over her shoulder. It’s hard to take her seriously though, when she’s still covered in zombie makeup.

We’ve been friends for a decade, having gone through university together. She’s always giving me shit — lovingly — about pretty much everything.

“Look, it’s fuckin’ cold out there, okay?” I say, turning back to my reflection. I carefully use the tip of my nail to pick at the edge of the green silicone wound where it’s adhered to my face, grimacing at the sensation of it slowly peeling away from my skin. “I have to keep warm out there somehow,” I add as I attack another puss-filled gash on my face, depositing it back in its compartment in my costume box. Over thirty different actors work here — non-humans and humans alike — so we each have a box filled with our shit that we’re responsible for.

“I’m not teasing,” Kayla says, ignoring the other guys also removing their gear as she comes to stand behind me. “You’re really fucking good, and you know I know it. I was going to make a suggestion, actually.”

“What, that I dance my way through the maze? That’ll do the trick, really scare the visitors,” I say sarcastically, removing the final wound from my neck. Our brown eyes meet in the mirror.

“No.” She leans down, whispering in my ear, the jewelled rings on her small tusks glinting in the light as I watch our reflections. “Male entertainment. You know I wasn’t here last weekend because I went to a hen’s do. There’s a men’s show on K Road. Friday and Saturday only, all above board, the guys are paid well — better than here — and they’re all really fucking talented.”

I pull my head away from her so I can turn and look her in the eye. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.” She is, her eyes wide and intense as she nods. “My cousin is the MC for the show — she’s the one that got my group discounted tickets. She loves it, and it’s really inclusive, really orc-friendly.”

“No.” I have nothing against strippers, but I’m not interested. If I’m going to dance, it’s going to be as part of the cast ofCats, not Muscle Men, or whatever that show is called.

“I thought it was amazing,” Kayla continues, crouching down beside me, her hand on my arm. “It was such an empowering experience for us in the audience. It wasso fun, and I’m not even into men. You’d be great.”

“No. Can you imagine if my mum found out? It’d give her a heart attack.”

“How is she going to find out?! You’re a grown man!”

“The gossip magazines still mention me occasionally, on a slow news week.” I had, once upon a time, been considered a B-grade celebrity here in New Zealand. “Can you imagine the headlines?Zak Carlson: Actor Turns to Stripping in Desperation. I’m all for people doing whatever they want to do in life, but there’s still a stigma attached to that profession, Kay. Mum reads those magazines. She cuts out the pages every time I’m in one. Besides, I don’t think I’m the right fit.”

“Because you’re an orc? I call bullshit on that one. Women love you.”

“Nah,” I say, shaking my head. “Nah. I’m happy here.”

“You arenot,” she whispers loudly. “You fucking hate it, and I know it. This isn’t going anywhere.”

“And stripping is?”

“It’s going somewhere warm, at least. No more four-hour shifts freezing your tits off.”

“I don’t have tits.”

“What do you call these, then?” she teases, grabbing one of my pecs and giving it a jiggle. I bat her hand away.

“Fuck off,” I laugh. We’re always like this, mucking around. It means nothing; she always says she wouldn’t touch a dick with a ten-foot pole.

“Look, just take the audition, okay? It’s worth a shot.”

I glare at her, and she grins wide, eyes full of mischief. She looks deranged with all the zombie makeup still attached to her face.

“Kayla, what have you done?”

“You’re booked in for next Friday night. You’ve already got the night off from here; I’ve arranged a cover for your shift. All you have to do is show up, watch the performance, and then audition once the crowd goes home. You’ll be great. You can thank me later.”

“Kayla,” I growl between gritted teeth, but she’s already walking away.

“It’s only a five minute drive from your house! No more hour-long drives home after midnight! You’ll do great!” She gives me a wave, and I return it with my middle finger in the air.

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