Midian Unmade Read Free Page B

always be a little bit afraid, even if Midian is home and haven altogether. Living amongst monsters does not come without its share of dangers. But the first part was correct. One must always enter freely, for otherwise, why enter at all? So she slips like a shadow through the door and into the room beyond, where she stops, bewildered by the scene before her.
    It is not a large room. It was a coffee shop once, before its windows were covered with soap and cobwebs and these children, these pretenders to Midian, found a way to pry open the back door and slip into their secret sanctuary. There are eight of them, Matt and Danni included. Some are dressed in black with too much makeup; the rest are in patches and rags, layers that don’t quite match but echo Babette’s own. The unseeables of the city, gathered with the would-be children of the night that never falls.
    They are not her kind. She should never have come here.
    But the door clangs shut and she is trapped, Matt coming up behind her on one side, Danni on the other. “Welcome to Midian,” he says, waving a hand to indicate the tired, dirty space, lit by candles, with faded Halloween decorations and newspaper clippings plastering the walls. He looks to her, waiting for her reaction. When it’s not forthcoming he prompts, “Well?”
    â€œIt’s not what I expected,” she manages, after a moment’s strangled silence. She wants to laugh. She wants to cry. Is this what they are now, the tribes of the moon? From reality to legend to children telling themselves stories in dark and dusty rooms? The other kids are watching her, taking her measure in a way that makes her yearn to breathe out her beast, to run wild and biting through their ranks until they end their credulous lives on the tiled floor. She struggles to contain herself ( Lori, give me your strength ) and adds, “How did you find this place?”
    â€œDanni’s dad used to be the general manager,” says Matt, looking proudly to the girl in the black lace dress. “She realized we could use this space. That we could all be monsters here.”
    â€œBut you haven’t proven you’re a monster,” says Danni, shoving her way back into the conversation like a crowbar. “Why should we trust you?”
    Answers pile up on Babette’s tongue, each one truer and sourer than the last. She swallows most of them, spitting out the most innocuous: “Because I have no one to tell about you. How can I be a danger if I have no threats to make?”
    â€œShe’s no monster,” says Danni dismissively. “She’s a pet at best, and prey at worst. If you want to keep her, you’ll need to feed and water her, and make sure no one else eats her.”
    â€œPromise,” says Matt, with a small and secret smile that Babette can’t help feeling is intended only for her. “I won’t let her pee in the corners or anything.”
    Danni snorts—the most monstrous thing Babette has heard from her yet—and turns her back on them. “It’s your funeral,” she says, and walks away, showing how little she thinks of them. Babette doesn’t mind.
    It’s better to be disregarded.
    *   *   *
    Now, not-Midian. Now, human children playing dress-up in a dark room that isn’t theirs (which may be the most Breed aspect of this strange and deepening evening; they’re all squatters in their own ways, clinging to the sides of human society like ticks on a fawn), wearing their artfully tattered clothing, hissing at each other in a mockery of monstrosity. Babette finds herself a place in one of the corners and watches them, all wide eyes and silence. She knows there’s something to be learned here, if she can just sneak up on it and make it show its face to her.
    There have always been Naturals who aspired to become Nightbreed. She was too young in the days of Midian to have had much congress with