Ivan

With all his spendings used to buy the ticket that got him into the Cirque, there was not enough for him to buy the one ticket he had come here for. The one ticket that got him into the big top. It was a bit extra money to get into the big show, but the young teen had another idea in mind. He could just sneak himself in. He was sure that no one would notice, not with everything gone on.

The air was starting to hold a small chill, finding it’s way through wearers coats. The teen himself was wearing nothing more than a pair of tattered trousers and a worn out coat. It hardly kept him warm, but it was better than wearing nothing. After examining all the performers on his own time, he followed the group walking towards the big top. Why were they all happy? He couldn’t quite understand, but he could only guess that they truly had no clue how the circus was run. From what Ivan had seen, he didn’t find it to be the entire story. That woman he had met first. Her face was smiling, but her eyes were mournful. Why was she stuck in that cage? Why would she want to stay in there?! There was no human being in this time that would enjoy something such at that. But that was just it, they were no longer human or they were never human to begin with. It was difficult to tell.

Ivan quickly turned, walking around the large tent and keeping himself away from the entrances. He made sure no one was around before pulling back a part of the tent and peering inside. Thankfully he was hidden behind the stands of people. The downfall was that it made it difficult for him to see the show. Still, Ivan desperately peered at the center of the ring.

To his disgust and amusement, the first act was that woman. Her name slipped his mind, but she was out of that cage! She did look quite happy to be touching the ground, even if that meant showing of the deformities she held. The young teen felt that she did not mind doing what she did as long as other people were happy with her.

The boy continued watching the show through the back, hidden beneath all the stands. Just as it neared its end, he felt a hand on the back of his coat. Quickly, Ivan pulled away from the last few moments and whirled around. He had expected a large man guarding the tents, but instead found a child clasped tightly to the hem of his coat. Ivan was not sure what to make of the child. His expression was blank, no emotion showing through at all. Around his right eye was a row of stitches and then another following down his left eye, disappearing underneath his chin. What was wrong with this boy and why was he holding onto his coat of all people?

“You shouldn’t be looking.” The boy’s tone matched his expression. It was empty and simply sounded like someone reciting lines they were forced to memorize. It was almost robotic.

“What are you talkin’ about?” Ivan retorted scoffing at the child and attempting to pry the hand off the hem of his coat. It was much more difficult than he expected. The kid had a good grip. “Get off my coat, will you?!” Ivan soon began to worry. He could hear the crowd cheering from inside the tent, which meant the show was over. If any of the performers found him back here, he was sure to get into some trouble.

“My, my, Amory. What’ve you found here?” This voice was deeper, almost playful as it spoke. Ivan turned once again, the boy never letting go of his coat. This was getting too out of hand. He now faced an insanely looking man. He stared at Ivan wide eyed and curious, much like a child would when finding a new toy to play with.

“Who are you?” Ivan’s question went unnoticed.

“He was sneaking. He watched the show inside from outside,” the boy, no older than nine, informed the odd looking man. Ivan could only guess they worked with the circus as well, but the strange man had a much different reaction than what he had expected. Instead of looking angry, he looked delighted. Maybe he didn’t work for the circus after all? It would be Ivan’s luck day if it were the case.

“Is that so?! Then you know what that means my dear boy!” The man’s voice was getting annoying.

“Yes Taren sir. It means there is more to our family. Right?” The boy looked for some sign of approval for his answer. The man, Taren it seemed, gave the boy a small pat on the head before gently peeling his hand off of the hem of the coat.

“Yes indeed my boy! Won’t Sebastian be so happy to  hear this! But it must be a surprise. Yes a surprise. Won’t you think he’ll enjoy this surprise? Of course he will.” Taren continued to ramble his thoughts, a hand resting on his chin as the other grabbed firmly to Ivan’s upper arm.

“Excuse me?! What are you doing!” Once again Ivan’s questions were left unnoticed and Taren resumed dragging the teen across the circus ground.

“Screaming won’t help. It only makes it worse, so don’t try.” Ivan looked to the source of the comment. It was that boy again. He was strange, but Ivan somehow believed what he told him. He was unsure why he was believing a small child like that, but he seemed to have no choice at the moment. Not with him being dragged across the grounds.

“That’s right my dear boy!” Taren agreed from the other side of him. It was not a very long walk, they simply passed two more tents before reaching the very back of the circus, where it seemed only the performers were permitted to enter.

“Where are you taking me?” Ivan demanded, his struggling continue to grow the further they were away from the large crowd of guests. This time his question did not go unanswered.

“To my tent of course. You did come for the show did you not?” Taren’s words were puzzling and difficult to reveal their true meaning. Holding onto the man’s other hand was that child. When Ivan took a closer look at the small boy, he noticed how he looked sewn together. Suddenly stories he remembered reading as a kid felt like they were coming to live just with the two beside. Ivan tried to convince himself that he was dreaming, but the sharp pain in his shoulder from being pulled along and the loud hum of the man beside him were all too real.

“Why?” he demanded to know, trying to stop but the man was a lot stronger for some reason. He didn’t look it at all, but Ivan should have realized looks were deceiving. Specially in the circus.

“You were looking at the show from outside.” It was all Taren said before the group arrived at his tent. The man pulled back the flap of the tent. Inside was a large metal operating table. Circled around it were tools, all different types, shapes, and sizes. Ivan’s eyes scanned over the bloody sight. Red splattered the ground as well as the tools laying on the metal stands. Panic was quick to settle in and Ivan gave his arm a sharp tug, releasing his arm from Taren’s hold.

“You’re insane!” Ivan turned, trying to run but the man was quicker as well. He grabbed Ivan’s arm and turned to the boy.

“Amory. You know what to do my boy. Get my that over there.” It was such a vague order that Ivan was not sure what he meant by it. “Now, now. It will only hurt a moment. Even then it might not hurt at all! Why don’t you just relax over here now. We just have to make sure you’re working properly.” Taren needed both hands to pull Ivan over to the metal operating table. The young teen kicked and yelled, but no one was around to help him. The small child returned with a syringe in hand, holding it up for Taren to take.

“What is that?! What are you doing to me?!” The teen spoke at the top of his lungs, attempting to kick at the boy, but Taren turned him away, making a faint ‘tsk’ noise as he did so.

“Now, now,” Taren purred with a satisfied grin. He freed one of his arms for a moment and taking the syringe in his hand. Despite the teenager’s struggles, the needle found its way into his arm and the strangely colored liquid was injected into his arm.

Ivan first felt a burning sensation. His body felt as though it were on fire and he screamed, dropping to the ground in a head. The burning sensation quickly cooled and he was left with an ache. His mind dulled by the second and his eyes drifted in and out of focus. As he looked up, he saw the two staring down at him. He could see their lips move, but there was no sound. What were they saying? Ivan wanted to know but as he tried to open his own mouth, it seemed impossible. His vision slowly faded from him and he fell asleep.

By the time Ivan woke up. He did not feel like himself. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in that strange tent. Was it all a dream? No. Ivan felt different. There was something different about him. He lifted his hand, staring at it for a moment as he pushed himself to sit up. Silence was all that filled the lone tent he rested in. As the teen brought himself up to his feet, it was then he noticed what was wrong. He stared, horrified at himself.

Sebastian

The cirque worked hard all morning to keep its guests entertained. Sebastian, being the leader of the circus was always there to announce the big top show. The guests piled in by the dozens, all eager to find their seats and see the amazing acts strung together for pure joy and entertainment. The loud call of whispered echoed through the large tent as men, women, and children piled in the stands placed in a circle around the ring. The light was proved by the afternoon sun, shining bright and giving everyone a clear view. In the center of the ring was a small stand, striped yellow and red to match the tent. Standing on top of it was a tall man. His lips were pulled back into a wide grin, revealing a sharp smile and focused eyes. His gaze focused over each face that entered the tent. Woman whispered to one another about his looks as he stared, but the loud whispers soon turned to a hushed quiet, everyone’s smiling faces gazing at the center of the ring, waiting for the show to begin.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! Children of all ages! Welcome to the Cirque de Vari, where wonders are around each corner and the delight of the performers will keep you out of your seat!” Sebastian’s voice boomed over the crowd. Those who hadn’t started paying attention, now were with the man’s mystifying voice.

All their eyes rested on the lone man in the center of the ring. The charismatic attitude as well as the encouraging smiles and laughs from the ring leader had the audience thinking this was normal. None of this was a problem. There was a pause. The audience held their breath, watching him with anticipation. When would the show start? The same question ran through all of their minds. A baby’s cry broke the silence, but no one paid it mind. This was how Sebastian knew he was ready to start. Each performer would have their time to shine in the spotlight, their time to have all eyes on them-whether they wanted it or not.

“I present to you! Our opening act for the Cirque de Vari! Our lovely and beautiful Lynne!” Sebastian waved a hand towards her entrance, stepping off the stool and moving to the side.

In entered the man’s largest attraction and what brought most of his guests. Lynne. The feathered woman stepped in the middle of the ring with her arms raised. The long brown feathers caught everyone’s attention at they gasped in amazement. If it were not for the fact those feathers were growing off a woman, everyone would have thought them to be beautiful. That was not the case here though. No, not at this circus. Everything was disturbed, wrong, and disgusting to its guests, but at the same time they were always amazing. Lynne did her many tricks, riding on the back of animals, showing off her feathers, as well as attracting the male’s in the tent. If Sebastian had their attention, he would have the money. That was his main focus. The men and the teens. The sick curiosity everyone held deep in their hearts was what kept this circus running.

With her act finished and the amazed guests staring blankly in front of them, Sebastian once again entered the center of the ring to introduce the next act. “Now ladies and gentlemen. I give you something so disturbed in appearance, so shocking, that you would never believe them to be real unless you have seen them with your own eyes.” There was a pause for dramatic effect. He watched as the children leaned forward in their seats, waiting with anticipation with what they were going to see next. “Two separate people, fated to live with one another forever. I bring you the twin freaks of this circus! Cival and Roux!” The happiness to his voice as well as the eager shouting left the guests smiling and clapping their hands as the deformed teens made there way to the tent.

This time the pair was not wearing their masks as they walked into the tent and their hands waved to the shocked crowd. Their mouths were wide open and Roux simply giggled to their reactions. Cival kept a straight face, neither amused or unamused by the gaping mouths that stared. The treatment was the norm, but just because it was the norm did not mean it was right.

The pairs act was soon over and the circus continued on. The last act was Sebastian’s second prized performer. The little clown quickly scampered his way into the center of the ring. Lynne may have attracted the older males and young teens, but Constantine attracted the women and children into the circus. The freakish outward appearance was considered cute. As afraid as he was, the boy smiled to the crowd, waving a hand to them all. Sebastian stood on the side, watching the act as it continued on and making sure that the boy did everything as he was told. Each act was different for Constantine and varied from simple things like juggling, to the more dangerous and nerve wracking jobs such as walking the tightrope. The child hated heights, but was forced to do the act to please its guests.

The boy’s good eye continued to flicker to one spot and that was Sebastian. The man smiled when he was doing well and there was a slight frown when he was not doing enough. The big tent act was the biggest act in the circus and if it did not go well, the Ring Master was not pleased and when Sebastian was not pleased, everyone else suffered.

Cival & Roux

“Lets go. Lets go. There are people waiting, we have to go.” The voice was impatient as they continued to get ready, putting their costume on for the long day ahead of them.

“You don’t need to hurry! Stop acting so childish!” The second voice was much harsher and pitched lower than the second voice. They fiddled and fought, their costume finally put on after the difficult hassle.

“Now we go!” Without a chance to argue the figure was forced outside, traveling from the back of the cirque towards the front where all the guests were beginning to roam.

“Roux! Stop!”

“No Cival! We’ve waited long enough!” Roux would not let Cival win. Control was fought, but Roux always won in the end. Her happy smiling face was the complete opposite of the one beside her. Cival’s face was grim and lonely. He had his lips turned down into a frown and his eyes empty of emotion.

“Your mask Cival.” Her voice cut through his own thoughts and it was a sickening sound. It was like nails on a chalkboard, Roux’s voice constantly nagging in his ear.

That was right. They were masked during the day. It was used not only to hide the scars on their faces from punishment, but also from Cival’s permanent frown, which damped the guests mood when they saw it. The circus was meant to be fun after all and frowning was not fun. Their masks were porcelain, finely decorated with red flowers and small bells that tied just to the ends. It left a faint ring in the air as they traveled. The noise was alluring and people were unable to help themselves and found they needed to follow the sound. Large feathers draped over the sides from the top of the mask. “Here they come,” her excited voice once again bothered his ears. No one could see the torment he went through, as it was covered by his mask.

The children gawked, the teens asked questions, and the adults cringed away with fear. Why was it they came to the circus then? It was in human nature to be fixed with things you thought were not real. The circus held many of those things and lured those of all ages, despite their beliefs or morals. The guests all stared at the two-headed figure. The freak was mystery as the crowd wondered the appearances of the faces behind the mask. Even to see Cival and Roux eyes were impossible. The holes in the mask were covered with a black mesh and it only added to their wonder.

Cival and Roux had their hands clasped together and their masks covering their entire face. The two walked through the crowd, Roux freeing her hand constantly and waving eagerly to those they passed. The children adored Roux. while they pitied Cival. No one cared enough to help. It was in every one's mind to pretend the children with their deformities loved to be in the circus, because parents assumed that was where it felt like home. This circus was no home to its performers. The fake smiles on their faces were real to the guests and it was a life style the performers chose, not one that was force upon them.

“Are there really two of you together?” An older teen’s voice reached the freaks ears. Roux was first to turn, quickly followed by Cival.

“How dare you think there weren’t!” Roux shrill voice responded, offended by such a statement. The hand she had control over was placed over where their heart would have been.

“Well I was only asking, since there is only one voice I here.” His tone was just as sharp, almost playful as he spoke with her. Roux was certainly caught by surprise, but pleased all the same with his tone.

“Well!” Roux turned her head to look at Civa, using her hand to quickly hit his arm, forcing his attention on her as he tried to gaze at the crowd. “Cival! Speak! Prove to him there are two of us!”

That nagging voice. Cival was hardly paying attention to what she was saying, buy she caught her order for him to speak. Cival narrowed hi eyes behind the mask, his expression hardening as he looked at her. Only Roux could tell of his expression while the teen in front of him waited patiently. “Don’t treat me like a dog,” he responded tiredly. His comment was ignored for the most part as she now focused her attention on the teen.

“There you have it!” There was such confidence in her voice that the male’s response caught her completely off guard.

“How do I know you weren’t just talking? It took quite a bit of time for a response.” The performers mask prevented him from seeing their lips move, it was a natural response, but never thought of before by Roux. There was a still moment as the three stared at one another, all for different reasons. Roux finally pulled the mask off her face. There was a small pause of realization and Roux looked to Cival for help. Taking off their masks were not allowed, but to prevent her from getting in trouble, Cival took off his own mask. It was now clear te two were seperate beings and those passing by stopped in their tracks to stare at the pair. They were only allowed a moment to glance before Cival and Roux returned the masks to their faces.

“You’re odd, but amusing.” The teen replied back, but his hands were now in his pockets. “I’ll visit you again.” With that, he was gone, leaving the two to their bickering of why it was not safe to talk seriously with the guests.

Lynne

Large crowds of voices passed Lynne frequently. Her iron prison was set near the gates of the cirque. Many children stopped to stare, asking her if they could touch the feathers along her arm. She only smiled at these children, their innocence great as they reached into her cage. The woman happily allowed them to do as they asked. They were fascinated with her and a few wished they were just like her. She laughed at those children. How could anyone want to look like this? Feather growing from your body as your limbs and eyes were replaced with another’s to make you look more of a freak. She quickly assured those children that it was not a nice life and there was much work. It convinced most, but to truly convince them, she needed to speak longer, but it was never an option. They left as quick as they arrived at times. Children’s mother’s quickly grabbed their hands and led them away. They must have been afraid their children would change. How amusing, she would think to herself, because the parents did not realize the worst of the freaks were still hiding. She heard their hurtful whispers and mocking laughs, but she merely smiled at them. Nothing bothered her an longer, everything meant nothing and was hardly focused on.

“Are you always in here?” The voice was unfamiliar, but obviously male. The feathered woman looked up from the steely ground of her cage and into the stranger’s eyes.

“Yes. This is my life.” Lynne had no problem speaking the truth. It was simply how things were and even with people knowing they preferred not to hear and continued on with their entertainment.

“Don’t you want to leave?” The young male continued to question, causing the others who wanted to look, grow irritated. Lynne knew that as much as she liked to talk, the enjoyment of the guests was most important.

“Where would I go?” She had returned with a question of her own, a slanted smile on her lips. “The other guests are growing restless. You should see the rest of the circus, they are much more entertaining.” Even though she was sad to see him leave, she needed to keep him moving. Eventually the crowd would not allow him to stay any longer. They pushed him along, but not before he called out to her a last time.

“I’ll visit you again!” With that, he disappeared into the crowd. Lynne could see the top of his head, but her attention was brought back to the demanding crowd and the young teen left her mind for now.

Vance

The whisper of voices reached past the plastic tarp that was made into a makeshift tent. His act was not the most important, but he played a role in the twisted family, just like everyone else. He sat in a creaky wooden chair, his body tilted to the side. His lips pulled back into a crooked grin, revealing razor sharp teeth, pointed to perfection. His eyes were black and empty of any emotion as he stared ahead of him. A white pupil searched for his next victim while his body now hunched forward, arms locked by his sides. Beside him stood a woman, her one piece circus outfit was covered with flowers now and their wilting petals floated slowly to the ground. Her hair was pulled back back, piled high atop her head as she cracked a whip. Her scarred face showed only one emotion, anger. Although as soon as the guests arrived she’d put on a show, her face brightened and her voice exciting . No one would expect the cruel conditions the performers lived in.

“Not looking too happy?” Vance asked with a crooked grin, his voice mocking.

“Know your place.”  It was all she needed to say for him to fall back into submission. The guests of the circus did not take long to find their way into the pitiful looking tent. Children were not permitted to enter, but the adults and teens were free to walk inside. Their faces were skeptical as they stepped inside, but soon, soon they would realize what they paid to see. They gawked at the man in the front, his arms locked on his sides by a straight jacket. With their mouths wide opened, he simply smiled in return. Vance was pleased with their faces and even more so as his meal was brought out to him. Human flesh sat neatly in front of him, but he did not move. Not without the crack of a whip. The man was trained like a dog, obeying orders and having fun. The wicked grin never left his face as his hungry eyes roamed the area.

From aside, her shadowed figure moved towards the front, but never once did she show her face. This was not her show and not her time to take the spot light. “Ladies and Gentlemen. I am sure you are all wondering what will happen here.” There was a long pause as she let the imagination of the guests wander free. She brought them back with the crack of a whip. “The performers of the Cirque give you a man so odd, so abnormal, that if you simply heard of it, you would never believe it to be true!” Crack. The whip once again hit against the air.

Happily, the hunched figure ate what was in front of him. Horrified gasps filled the tent and soon broke into hushed whispers. Women with weak hearts quickly left with their husbands while the young males could not pull their gaze away. A cannibal was not something one of them would ever see. They were awed by such a living being.. Awed and disgusted the show continued on as many others desperately tried to see.

Constantine

“Get up! Get up!”

The familiar voice ran through the plastic tarp, its gravely tone laced with the smell of alcohol. The scent was so familiar, he no longer crinkled it away in disgust. Instead, it was welcomed. Its voice as well as its smell meant he was alive for another day. Before he was even able to salvage the thought, the cot he slept in was given a heavy kick. His body jolted to the side, falling to the ground with a sickening smack. The treatment was the norm and the boy simply picked himself up off the ground, nothing else he could possibly do.

“I’m awake!” His childish voice finally bubbled up from his through, coming out of his mouth cracked and worn.

“Don’t sass me Constantine! You know the consequences!” The man’s voice spat out, gruff and unforgiving. The steely dark eyes glared down at the child before kicking at the other cots scattered in the cheap tent. Tired and painful groans soon fulled the air. From the boy’s point of view, this was life. Doing as you were told and hoping that by doing so, you would live another day.

Short for his age, Constantine stared at the others. Messy auburn hair rested around his head, his bangs resting on either side of his face. His face was soft, childish features still showing through his face. Sewn over his right eye was a spare cloth, covering over a dark past. His arms were replaced with limbs much too long for his body and ended with large bear-like paws. His steely gray eye floated to the cot opposite of him, another freak whose body was mutated for others amusement.

“What are you looking at?” One voice spoke as the figure noticed his stare.

“Stop being so rude!” The other voice spoke.

Constantine stared at the two-headed figure, their deformity was much worse than his own. Or that was so he thought. It was two heads sewn onto one body. Fighting was inevitable and constant between them. Their arrival at the circus was as long as his own. Farther down the tent, a figure laid still on his bed. What kept him in place was a straight jacket, never taken off unless the leader was feeling considerate that day. He was taken care of by another woman in the cirque. The deformity she held was merely a scar running down the side of her face from punishment.

“Well then. Come on, come on! Lets not keep him waiting!” Her voice was eager, masking the true feelings held deep within her as well as everyone else in the circus. ‘Him’ referring to the master of them all. No one wanted to upset him, for fear of the punishments they would receive. “Let us get dressed and ready! We’ll be opening to the public soon!” She seemed to have taken it on herself to keep everyone in place. Her role of leadership unneeded, but welcomed all the same. In her hand was a large whip, apart of her act, but used other times as well. It cracked against the air, echoing in their ears as they prepared for the day. The woman moved to take care of her pet, the one still asleep, straight jacket strapped tight.

Constantine turned before he could see anymore. Their treatment was not the best and something they chose not to watch when possible. The childish clown costume he wore was his uniform. The puffy pants stopped just above his knees, striped a dark red and yellow to match the circus tent. His top consisted of a top, the same color as the pants. Around his neck, a ruffled collar, resembling one Queen Elizabeth might have worn. The child’s face was painted and a few bells sewn to his outfit. Despite its foolish look, Constantine was happy to be wearing it and be out of the performers private tent.

The air was stale and heavy, but preferred over the air in the tent. It was difficult to breathe, his own breath coming in straggled and forced. The atmosphere of the Cirque was thick with anxiety as the young clown traveled to the big tent. The one where the large show was to take place and the reason for the anxiousness to the performers. There at the large tent, he would spend another eventing entertaining those who paid to see the miserable lives of others.

“What are you doing simply standing around?!” The voice was angry and all too familiar. Constantine turned, ducking instantly from the blow that was thrown at his head. Tall, pure while hair, and horns protruding from either side of his head, The man was deformed, just like the rest of them, but he lived a much different life. Seeing as he was close to the Ring Leader, his life was much easier.

“I was getting ready!” the boy cried out, the clown cowering under his hand. “I wasn’t standing around. I swear!” His pleading was weak and desperate, bringing sadistic pleasure to the man.

“Of course you were!” he sneered mockingly. He watched Constantine, waiting for the child to move, when he didn’t he decided to speak again. “Then get to work!” he screamed in the boy’s ears. His breath was hot against Constantine’s skin, yet it sent shivers down his spine.

“Yes Demarion, sir,” the young clown bowed his head respectfully before hurrying off. It was best not to upset the man, seeing as he was close to the leader. Upsetting him was as worse of a punishment as upsetting the ring master himself.

The child’s footsteps quickly filled the air as he ran across the beaten ground. Other than than, there was no sound. He did not go long before crossing paths with another freak. The woman’s arms were covered with long brown feathers. Her feet were merely claws, matching those of a large bird. Her hair was a light blonde, cascading down her back delicately. Feathers had begun to grow off the side of her face and her eyes were large like an owls.

“Hello Constantine dear,” she called to the little clown, stopping him in his tracks with her gentle smile. She sat in a cage, iron bars holding her back from the true and real world. Her feet never never having touched the barren ground in years. Did she remember what it felt like? How it was soft to the touch and filled a person with a sense of freedom? Of course none of them remembered that feeling. Freedom was long forgotten and something that would never be in their grasp.

“Hello Lynne,” he responded, walking up to the old iron cage. He stood on the tips of his toes, only then was he able to peer inside.

“How are you doing my darling? A few more bruises I see,” she observed, noticing the scattered marks on the the of his face and arms.

The two were close, Lynne replacing the motherly figure missing in Constantine’s life. The boy took comfort in her presence and found it assuring as he had another soul that cared for him, simply because he was him and not an item in a performance.

“Better. I’m alive,” he replied in an honest tone. Soon, soon, he would need to keep moving, otherwise he would be found slacking off. That was one thing he did not to be seen doing.

“Isn’t that what we should all think?” she responded with a smile, even if there was nothing to smile about. “You should be running along now, before you get into trouble.” Lynne seemed to have taken the thought right from his mind the child’s own mind. He was eager to agree, even if it meant the pain was coming. His pawed hands removed themselves from the iron bars and his feet touched the ground.

“Goodbye Lynne. I’ll visit you later,” he promised her. Constantine never broke a promise to her. He always found a way to visit her once more. The boy continued on his way, the bells sewn to his outfit ringing faintly in the air. It seemed that the ring leader was already there, his tall frame towered over the rows of seat being set up for the evening. Even with his back to the child, he could clearly visualize the sinister smirk on his lips. The boy wasn’t able to leave quickly enough before he was noticed.

“Constantine, is that you?” he laughed. The man knew who it was, he simply enjoyed mocking his performers with every chance he received. “Come here my boy, come here,” he purred with an ominous tone. Unfortunately the child needed to listen and quickly shuffled forward, his movements unsure and nervous.

Constantine took too long to be by the ring leader’s side and the man instantly reached forward, forcefully grabbing the child’s chin. The boy only whimpered in pain as his face was brought in close. He stared at the older man’s face, his good eye floating around desperately. He looked young, his blonde hair pulled back with a black ribbon. His eyes were a golden color and seemed able to read your thoughts and know your secrets. The stare was calm, but calm was worse than anger. The soft eyes toyed with the younger one’s mind as Constantine tried to think of what he had done wrong. Without worrying about the fingers digging furiously into his skin.

“S-Sebastian,” he tried to mumble out, but was stopped as the hand tightened around his jaw, twisting his head uncomfortably to one side as he tried to focus his attention on the ring leader.

“Excuse me?” Sebastian sounded offended, his fingers digging further into the boy’s skin, waiting impatiently for the correction.

“Sebby.. That hurts,” he choked out, the fear of the ring leader showing through his voice. Quickly he tried to compose himself, clawed paws gripping at Sebastian’s hands, but never enough to hurt the man. No, that was never an option. It seemed the change in name was good enough for Sebastian to let go. He stumbled back, attempting to catch his footing.

“Good boy.” The way Sebastian spoke was as if he were talking to a dog, his voice pitched slightly higher and pleased. Despite himself, Constantine smiled. The tone was a relief and it meant he would be safe for a bit longer. His safety and his his life revolved around Sebastian. Whatever that man was feeling affected his life directly. “Now you know you’ll have to prepare for your act, but for now, entertain the guests.” Sebastian leaned over, his lips hovering near the boy’s ear, and his fingers curled around the child’s arms. His breath was hot against his skin and the purr to his voice sent fear down Constantine’s spine. In response, the clown turned his body slowly to the side, inching his way to the freedom of the tent.

“Yes Sebby,” he whispered fearfully, his body cringing away from the man. With his arm released from the hold, the boy was quick to shift away. With his arm released from the hold, the child was unsure if he could leave or not. Unable to keep himself still any longer, Constantine found his legs moving on their own accord. The stuffy air in the big top was replaced with heavy, but cleaner and fresher air. Constantine continued to run, heading towards the front gates.

Slam. His body hit against another, but he was unable to see who it was. He threw his hands out, catching his fall as he tumbled to the ground.

“Oh looky here, looky here,” a voice chuckled out giddily. “Didn’t expect runnin’ into you. No I did not.” There was only one man in the circus who spoke like that. Constantine quickly scrambled to his feet, string at the lanky figure. The man’s body curved to one side, his head tilted the opposite way, giving him an odd look.

“Vance,” he quickly responded, moving around the man caught in his straight jacket. The male was quicker than he was though and simply shifted his feet, standing in the child’s path once more.

“OH come now, come now. Why’re you tryin’ to get away? I just want to talk, can’t you talk?” It was impossible now. Once Vance held a target he intended to keep it unless someone changed his mind. “Hey, I got an idea,” he called, suddenly breaking the child’s own thoughts. He seemed to wait until he had Constantine’s full attention before speaking up again. “Why don’t you play a part in my show? A little bite won’t hurt you,” he cackled insanely. It was all a game, having fun within this circus was all that kept him alive. Slowly, Constantine took a step back, lengthening the distance between them.

“Vance!” A woman’s voice spoke up this time, high pitched and frustrated. An older woman stormed up, wearing a sparkling circus outfit, heels and all, as well as a whip in hand. Her scarred skin only made her appearance all the more frightening as she haughtily placed her hands on her hips. The woman was enough to stop Vance in his tacks and bow his head submissively.

“I was only playing you see,” he started to explain, but was quickly cut off by the crack of a whip. It his no one in particular and simply cracking against the air. It was loud enough for Constantine to cover his ears at the sound.

“There is no playing right now! Only working!” Such an odd thing to say for someone who worked in the circus., She had a stern voice, sharp and precise, and able to knock Vance back into shape. She had waited until Vance kept his eyes off Constantine and onto hers. When it had happened, she grabbed him by his shoulder, shoving him forward in a struggled attempt to keep him moving.

“Thank you,” Constantine spoke up, waiting quietly.

“Don’t thank me.” It was all she said to him before leaving him alone once more. The silence did not last lon as the faint murmur of voices filled the air. The circus was now open to the public and he would need to attend to its new guests.