skynatasha smiled nervously. It was her first day on the job, opening night in a new town, and she and her partner had had precious little practice. But he was an old pro at this; he’d never missed his mark she’d been told by the other performers.
Sammy (or Dirk Nevermiss, his stage name) barked out a command at her from his table, and she raised her arms, clothes puffed out to make his target easier to hit. He turned to the audience and fanned out several sharp knives, then kicked up a balloon and flipped one of the daggers at it. A loud POP made the kids in the audience squeal.
Holding the daggers in one hand, he flipped them deftly to his free hand and threw four in rapid succession, pinning her sleeves and pants to the large wooden board behind her. The audience cheered and shouted for more daring throws.
He whirled around, each time when he faced her he let loose another knife. Just above her head, between her legs, and on either side of her torso. The last one she could feel the cold blade touching her skin.
He picked several larger knives from the table, twitching slightly as he reached for them. He dropped one, looked confused, then bent down to pick it up. He turned to the audience and explained his next trick… he would throw the knives while facing away from her. He stuttered strangely, but finished his speech and turned his back to her.
He flipped one knife at her, and spasmed mid-throw. The knife hurtled toward her, and she realized that it would not miss. Stuck as she was, she couldn’t move to either side, and the sharp metal blade pierced her belly, easily going all the way through her and sticking to the wood. She gasped, but before she could make a sound, the next one came at her, higher this time.
The blade stuck in her right shoulder, and she screamed. The audience thought it was part of the act, and cheered wildly. The next knife stuck in her left thigh, and she screamed and begged for Sammy to stop. He threw his final knife, twitching uncontrollably throughout the throw, and it embedded itself in her lower arm, quivering as it came to rest between her bones.
She was going into shock, gasping for breath, and unable to speak or shout anything. Dirk Nevermiss, always one to finish the show under any circumstances, drunkenly picked up his finale piece, a ruthless looking double-bladed battleaxe. He staggered as he turned, took one step forward and hurled it at her from over his head. She stared in disbelief as it slowly came at her, end over end. She could hear the whoosh of the handle as it whistled through the air.
The axe landed squarely in her face, cleaving it in two. The audience gasped, then loudly proclaimed their appreciation for Dirk Nevermiss’s performance. Dirk, however, had fallen to the floor, frothing at the mouth and spasming out of control. Stage hands rushed out now, realizing that this was not a new act of his, but an epileptic seizure at the worst possible time.
skynatasha’s body slumped, blood soaking the floor around her, clothes tearing where they were held by her first and only instruments of entertainment.
