Haus Lobo
For Lula, the Realness category was the best part of the ball. Something about seeing all her friends put on the front of playing straight tickled her. It was also the category Lula slayed on a regular basis.
All the children came through looking gorgeous, earlier than everyone but the judges; they wanted to stunt on everybody there. One of the biggest mistakes they made was dolling up too much. There's a big difference between a look and a get-up. The kids always ended up wearing get-ups. You saw the costume before you saw the person. It's fine if you're judging how creative they got, but for Realness, you needed to prove you could move through the straight world without clocking anyone's radar.
Earlier in the night, Lula stunted in Chanel cocktail dresses she bought from Goodwill. Then she appeared in a sequin gown and gloves, doing her best Jessica Rabbit strut and sashay. No eyes in the house weren't bulging like a cartoon, and no fingers weren’t snapping in ecstatic approval. She killed it without any argument, from the judges or the rest of the house children, but she was just getting started. Lula brought the house down on Realness. She was so good, no one else should even try.
The routine began the same every time. All the lights went out, except for a single floor lamp in the center of the ball with a red sash over it. While regulars cheered and hollered, the new blood looked around in anticipation. After a while, anticipation became annoyance. Lula loved to make them wait.
Even longer, annoyance would grow into dread. Lula loved to see them squirm. At the peak of their worries, a foot stepped into the small circle of light on the wooden floor, but it wore no pump, clog, or loafer. No skin either. The foot was a massive brown-furred paw, nails painted red. It appeared disembodied in the darkness, until it was followed by another painted paw, this one grabbing the stem of the lamp like a dancer's pole. She pulled the sash off, the light of the unshaded bulb pouring over her true face, the elongated visage of a wolf. Somehow still elegant, even with teeth as long as blades, her eyes were lit with fiery feral pupils. At six feet without pumps, Lula was already tall in human form. Now she towered a foot beneath the unreflecting disco ball.
Some gasped but the newcomers didn’t scream. They’d been marked, and they knew what they’d signed up for.
All were silent as Lula scanned the crowd, the illuminated eyes of her regulars staring back at her. Confident as she was, Lula still dreaded this moment. The ball was meant to be a refuge from the pain in the straight world, but as years went on, it just became another hunting ground. Not every regular had good judgment—some might have invited interlopers who saw them as a freakshow to be gawked at. Or worse, they could turn violent, and with a purpose. Lula had lost friends to silver daggers from these invasions. She lost more to silver bullets on the streets when someone clocked them.
Her enhanced vision scanned the dark room, watching for any movement from the newcomers. She sniffed the air, and only her family’s familiar scent filled her nostrils, setting her nerves at rest. Dozens more glowing eyes appeared in the dark before the lights slowly turned back on, dimmer than ever. No longer drawing attention to themselves with tacky get-ups, the newcomers began shedding their skin, revealing new grown fur and elongated limbs as more than comfortable enough for them. Soon they’d learn how to become the kind of prey that didn’t go down without a fight.
"And so concludes the initiation of Haus Lobo," Lula announced in her booming voice. "Now make your mother proud."
The congregation howled in reply, and out they went into the streets, to slay and rend all who threaten the fiercest creatures of the night.
© 2024 Malik Berry
About the Author
Malik Berry is a writer and community organizer based in Baltimore, MD. Their work has been published by A Coup of Owls Press, labataan, and The Junction, along with two one-act plays, “To Love an Ass,” and “It Starts With a Spark,” staged by Rapid Lemon Productions as a part of their annual Variations Project. They can be reached on Twitter (@malikb_wav) and Tumblr (@malikxberry).