The whip cracks, insisting that I fly through a flaming hoop to a fresh perch, to take my place beside other bats. Beyond the transparent, close-packed bars of our large cage the humans clap. Was this always my life? I’m not sure. My fellow bats have little conversation, all of it mundane and trivial. They offer no answers or insights.
The whip cracks, insisting that we fly in a line through hoops attached to the bars. We make a full circuit of the cage and land for a rest.
Gunfire. I remember gunfire…
…and yellow trails. From bullets… containing plasma… obtained by magic from the sun's corona. Images are connecting, memories are returning. Sure I’m nocturnal, but why do I dislike sunlight to such an intense degree? Solarnyte. The bullets contained Solarnyte. It transforms you, in sufficient quantities.
Without warning, all my full memory is restored. I was cat. Before and after, a vampire. Perhaps the last, and hopefully considered dead enough to be ignored. Still, I’m done with being a bat. Show’s over.