Chapter 53: Tamara's Lost Treasure.

Mary had a little ghoul…

The little ghoul ended up in tight leather pants, with glitter on his chest…

I go by Mary these days. Funny thing, that? Well, if I present myself as the demon lady that I am, then people will catch up on all the ways one can kill a demon lady.

There is a demon lord around here somewhere. But Howard, or should I say Helena, and I don't pay his tantrums any mind. Some Hero of Ultimate Fate will do him in, and that would be that.

The afterlife is a funny business when you are a demon lady. You can't move on. Not even if you don't have so much as a single kill to your name. Howard could have moved on.

 Gone back to Earth, lived a normal life. Instead, he chooses to be reborn as Helena. And me? I decided to be born again as Mary. I have always liked the name, don't judge.

I even found out that Shannon was around this fantasy world, on a deserted island. Together with a lovely woman, who would have taken down the stars for her. Who beat addiction for her? Something that I never managed to do.

I keep on telling myself that with Howard, Helena, things will be different. I don't smoke at all, and drink in moderation. Furthermore, I don't even look at the packets with troll's thumb in the supermarkets. Even when they are the first thing spunky children would buy.

The world needs D-pop. It requires it more than they even know they do. The fat pandemic started after my death. This time, a hero was a villain.

One of the Heroes of Ultimate Fate, I don't remember his name anymore, but that is not the point. So, one of the heroes decided to make it big, by introducing hamburgers, and other junk, into this world. It helped that he knew what he was doing. Him being a McDonald's employee, more than likely.

Anyway, burgers and no movement make for a fat world. So, I have to make Al and Calvin dance their asses off. And that is what I do, most days.

"Ok, birds. The crowd is loving it. Now, go out there, and shake hands," I tell the two ghouls. Now, some might say, that ghouls don't have the same sex appeal as vampires. And those people will be right.

Yet, what the average busybody doesn't know is, that I make them look sexier than they actually are. Which makes the handshake routine I sent them on, harrowing.

"Can't we rest for a bit? I think I need some tea," Cassius says, as he looks around. I hand him a tall glass of rum.

"Make it back up front in five," I say, and then skip towards Howard, no, I must remember, Helena.

"Hey, love," I wrap an arm around her shoulder, and then bring her in for a kiss. Howard sacrificed a lot, choosing to be reborn as a girl, rather than a boy. Yet, it is worth it. At least, I like to believe so.

"Did you see how Al fell in Cas's hands? He even did a spin, and Cas still caught him," Helena tells me with sparkling eyes. I smile at her.

"Yes, well, the rum I give them is making them as nimble as vampires," I tell my soulmate, and her eyes narrow.

"Just what are you putting in their rum?" Helena asks, and I wink at her.

"A little something, made out of demon mana," I poke her on the nose, and then give her a quick peek on the lips. She licks them.

"Mm, when I was a paparazzo, I would have killed for such a picture. The demon lady, being lovely dovely with a woman," Helena teases, and I roll my eyes.

"Just snap a couple of Al and Cas, love. They deserve the exposure," I tell her, and then lead her back to the front of the club. The two ghouls are already out, their personalities loosened up, from the rum. 

Some might say that what I do is slavery, but I digress. It is not slavery, when it was their fever wish to go out on the stage. The thing is, they wished for it so badly, fifty years ago, that I heard it through the veil.

At the end of the day, the saying that, if you want something done, you should do it yourself, hold true. I couldn't leave my D-pop into the hands of two clueless ghouls.

 They would have shone for a couple of weeks, and then gotten pushed off the stage. Or worse, became drunks, and gotten bad press for D-pop in general.

No way that will happen now, with me keeping them on the straight and narrow. The only thing I allow them to drink, is rum for tea. Sweet, but no alcohol in it. Yet, it still makes their cheeks rosy. The mind is a funny thing.

"Do you think we should get them to perform in Fairy tomorrow?" Helena asks, as she leans into me.

"They are not ready for Fairy, love. When the last traces of rebellion leave them, then we can hit Fairy. Do you remember what sort of wild parties we had there?" I kiss her ear, promising her that we could have fun. Our own after-party.

"It wasn't called Fairy back then," the club in question is 80 years old. And no, it really wasn't called Fairy before. I work my brain in overdrive, to remember the name.

"What was it again? I think it had something to do with demons?" My memory is sketchy, at times. I lived for so long, as Tamara. And even Mary has already had 50 years on this world.

"D-pop Heaven," Helena sighs. "I got kicked out of it, once, do you remember? When I snapped a picture of the performance."

"Ah, yes. When Amaris took off her bra, and threw it to the public. I think I ripped her a new one, for getting that drunk," I smile at the memory. Amaris was wild. Gone before her time. But never tamed.

"It would be nice, to revisit the place. I hear the building is the same, as back then," Helena says, as she takes my glass. She calls the action of taking a sip by pressing her lips to my lipstick mark an indirect kiss.

Silly thing, my love butterfly is. Silly, and just as quirky, as when she was Howard. At times, I wonder, if I would still be Tamara, if I simply went out on a date with Howard.

No, I shake my head, don't ponder on such things. Tamara is dead, Mary is happy. And that makes all the difference in the world.

Only bad thing about a star is it burns up.