Danger on the Dance Floor

"Wasn't it worth it, darling?" The suited man asked the woman whose hand he held.

"Ah, yes, Gerald," she said with a smile, twirling her hips to show off her black gown and corset.

"As I said, Sophia," he said grinning, "we'll be spending a night together in the height of luxury... with a bit of Victorian flare."

She giggled. "Oh, Gerald, it's perfect; the costumes, the hors d'oeuvres, the perfume, and the champagne in those little glass flutes! Oh, and that chandelier is so gorgeous! You certainly know how to treat a lady."

"Oh, I am not done, yet." He said, bowing to kiss her hand, "May I have this dance, meine mädchen?"

Sophia feigned hesitation with a sardonic lean and playful fanning of her hand. "Oh, I suppose I could do you the honor, monsieur."

The pair giggled as Gerald subtly drew her onto the dance floor. Pairs of dancers did the same as the singer signaled to the band behind him. Within moments, the musicians conjured an enticing, rhythmic tango. Gerald's eyes met Sophia's as he savored the moment, but he was distracted for the briefest second by the flash of a hauntingly familiar red dress behind a passing waiter. He blinked a moment and it was gone, accepting it only as some sense of macabre déjà vu.

"Gerald," Sophia said, snapping his attention back to her, "is this a bad time to tell you I don't know how to waltz?"

He smiled. "Good thing this is a tango. Here, I'll show you."

He placed his free hand just above her hip, gently rocking her into the first step.

"It goes slow, slow, quick, quick, slow."

"Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow," she murmured, mirroring his feet while taking the occasional nervous glance downward.

"Yes, that's it, darling."

She giggled once more, gaining a hair more confidence with each step. "Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow... Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow..."

"You got it!" Gerald praised sultrily.

Sophia locked her eyes with his, seamlessly following his lead. In seemingly no time at all, the pair whirled and swirled with the other dancers. Gerald and Sophia were thus drawn in the rapture of the moment. In their arms, there was only the other: the sweat of their brow, the warmth of their touch, and the beat of their feet as they sailed across the parquet with nary a care in the world. Two star-crossed lovers melded into the crowd in their own private sanctuary.

However, neither lover noticed that far across the ballroom their orbit was being watched, that a specter of rage was seething and fomenting completely unseen.

A great creaking was heard above the dance floor. Some of the dancers stopped having been distracted by the odd sound. The rest stopped when there was a loud gasp as the rope suspending the massive chandelier moaned and swayed. The crowd dispersed as quickly as they could, leaving Gerald and Sophia. The two were so entranced that neither heard the snap as the rope holding the chandelier aloft gave out.

Just as the crystal behemoth came crashing down, Gerald haphazardly spun himself and Sophia out from the center of the room. Sophia was facing it and shut her eyes just before the two of them were pelted with a shower of crystal shards being flung from their moorings as the chandelier collided with the floor. Gerald looked around as Sophia shrieked, taking a last moment pose to shield her from the crash. The sundered chandelier stood before his feet as the room grew deadly quiet.

Gerald's heart pounded in his head as he watched a woman in a bright red dress emerge from the crowd from the direction of the band. Mascara was running down her reddened face, framing her steel gaze and manic grin.

"Hello, dear," the woman said malevolently, "did you miss me?"

"Tiffany," gasped Gerald, "how did you-"

A long, menacing stainless steel knife glinted in Tiffany's hand as she advanced. "I see you've already found my replacement."

"Gerald, who is this?" Sophia asked.

"Tiffany, it's been five months!" Gerald said, stepping carefully backward with his date, readying to make a break for the exit.

"Five months of sheer agony!" Tiffany screamed. She kicked shattered crystal chunks out of the way as she advanced.

Gerald and Sophia turned, leaning into a run. They were stopped in their tracks when they noticed several tables pushed in front of the doors that service staff were hurriedly trying to clear. The pair turned back around, seeing how close Tiffany had gotten to them. She cackled bitterly.

"Five months and no texts, no calls. You abandoned me, Gerry! All for this whore, I'm guessing..."

"Tiffany, you gave me no choice! You wouldn't listen to me! You're crazy!"

"CRAZY?!?"

Gerald sighed with panic. "Just put away the knife. We can talk this out."

"Oh, I'll put away this knife, Ger-bear, right between your third and fourth rib-"

Without warning, the band leader crept up behind the trio, his eyes locked on Tiffany's back. As she was focused on Gerald and Sophia, the band leader dashingly leap and tackled Tiffany to the ground. With a quick punch, she was knocked out and pinned beneath the band leader's body.

Sophia leaned into Gerald and sighed with relief. "Your ex, I take it?"

-----

"That was an unexpectedly wild night yesterday," said Gerald.

"Yeah," Sophia replied, pouring herself some coffee, "but I do need to ask: are there any other crazy ex's I need to worry about?"

"Nope," he answered, eating his cornflakes, "just the one."

Sophia pulled a newspaper close as she read the headline. "Well, that's not good."

"What isn't?"

She showed him the headline: 'Woman Escapes Police Custody'.

Gerald nodded. "How about we stay in for our next date?"

"Agreed."

-----

This was submitted for Marie Sinadjan's Spooky Season Bingo Writing Challenge under the prompt 'Female Rage'. This story was also heavily inspired by the song 'Danger on the Dance Floor' by The Cog is Dead.