I just want to die.
The small child stumbled his way through the circus grounds, night had fallen quickly as well as the closing act for the guests. His steps were uneven, one step forward, the next was a forceful drag against the dirt path. Even with the cool night air hitting against his heated skin, it gave no relief. Sweat rolled down his face, as well as his salty tears. He continuously brushed his tongue over his chapped lips, his left arm cradling his right.
“Oh love. What have they done to you now?”
The voice was smooth as silk, draping over his shivering body with a caring touch. It was familiar, the only one that would even consider calling him ‘love’ and honestly mean the word. For a moment the child’s limping gait paused. His arm continued to cradle the other and his face still wet with his tears. Beside him, glistening in the soft moonlight, was a cage. Its iron bars rusted with years time creaked and groaned as the creature inside moved closer to the edge. Their feathered arm reached out between the iron bars, hand outstretched in kindness. Without hesitation, he found himself leaving a limp arm to dangle and using his good arm to reach out for the hand, grasping tightly to it with his own pawed hand. “What they always do,” he stated the obvious. His voice was stretched, cracked, and slightly choked. Between a few words he found himself quickly breathing in, in result of his tears.
“I’m sorry to hear that my love. Come here,” she crooned to the boy, helping him up to the small platform that let others view into her cage. Despite the bars separating them, she held out her arms to hug the hurting child, whispering softly to him and stroking his hair as he crumbled against the metal grate, fresh tears spilling over. “Shh my little lamb, it will be alright. Stop your tears,” she told him in a motherly tone.
Constantine tried his best to control his breathing as it came in quick, uneven gasps, coughs, and cries. He allowed the woman to hold onto him a bit longer before her soothing whispers and gentle touch calmed him. The boy sat on the metal platform, wiping the tears with one hand, his good eye focused now on the shadowed figure.
“Do you feel better now?” Her voice was still soft, still motherly. She waited until she saw the nod of the boy’s head in the shadowed moonlight. “Do you want to talk about it?” There was an immediate shake of the head. The woman expected no less of an answer. Half of her hoped for a shake of the head in response. She had ideas of what they put this boy through, but never were any of them confirmed.
Silence fell amongst the two. The woman looking over the boy’s limp arm as well as the other cuts and bruises along his face. nothing hurt her more than to see the boy’s face cringed in pain and sorrow.
Footsteps suddenly echoed with a heavy crunch. The woman’s eyes flickered to the surrounding area and she reached forward, hurrying the boy to his feet and speaking to him in a quick and harsh whisper. “Time to go now my love. Hurry now, don’t get caught wandering this late. I don’t want you to get in trouble,” she told him lovingly, stroking his hair lightly with a tender kiss to his paw. “Run along now.”
Without questioning her hurried motions, the child slipped off the metal platform, landing on the cracked ground with a dry thud. He winced from the pain in his bad leg, as well as the pain in his arm. Once more the boy cradled his right arm in his left, dragging one leg behind him and continuing on as if he had never stopped.
“Constantine!”
This voice was not as kind. It was gruff, harsh, cutting through him with a fearful slice. There was no debate in stopping. His movements resulted in a sudden halt just with a single word slipping from the other’s mouth.
“What are you doing out here so late? I am sure Sebastian let you free much earlier, giving you plenty time to return back to your tent,” he purred in a mocking voice, each word dripping with taunt and pressing into his skin, waiting to pierce the flesh left on his bones. Silence was the child’s response, but silence was never meant to be an answer.
Constantine found himself tossed back, the side of his face stinging from the crack of a hand meeting flesh. The gimp arm rested motionlessly by his side, leaving him to catch himself with a single paw. His face hovered dangerously close to the ground. He could smell the dirt, his sweat and tears disappearing quickly into the thirsty ground. His chest fell forward, a desperate gasp of air finding its way out of his lungs as he heard the voice again, this time more impatient. “What are you doing here so late at night?”
“I was still walking.. I hurt my leg.. And I can’t move my arm. I can’t move quickly, it hurts,” the child quietly complained, his words drawn out as he tried to breath and hold back his tears, both proving to be difficult at the moment. He was finally allowed on his feet and he was grabbed by the shoulder. Fingers dug into his skin and it felt as though they would cut through. “I’m sorry,” he quickly added, feeling the grip only loosen slightly.
“Well then. Sebastian will not be too happy to hear you let yourself get hurt again. Will he?” The man’s voice echoed in his mind, leaving a permanent scar. Constantine shook his head quickly, eyes focused on the ground while he involuntarily shivered from fear. “I suppose in the morning Taren will look at you. For now. Go back to your tent.”
There was a pause, silence between both parties as Constantine gathered all the strength he could from his limited supply. “Yes Demarion, sir,” he spoke in a low, submissive tone.
With that being said, the child was forced along his way. Wounds to be tended to in the morning, where he would need to suffer the night with them. He had not bothered to wait for what Demarian might have wanted to say next. He turned his back to the creature and continued to walk in a limping pattern. The tent was not much farther, he was terribly close.
With all other performers sleeping, Constantine found his cot through the darkness and laid down. His right arm now useless until the morning where Taren could possibly see him. His leg would be fine by morning and the cuts would have healed over, bruises lightened up, so he would be ready to repeat the same routine. So he would be ready to make others laugh at the masks performers wore as well as their stumbling acts. So they could live through their lives unknowing the dark secrets kept within any circus.
Get me out of here, please.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Sebastian
That was right, Taren had finished. He was approached by a small child, one with no emotion to his face and once had difficulty in seeing through one eye. He whispered quietly into his ear that ‘he’ was ready. Excellent. A new attraction to add to his wonderful family. Wonderfully demented, tortured, and damned. Their suffering cries and beautifully deformed faces brought him contentment.
As soon as the leader of the circus reached the meager tent, hidden far back, a broad smile crossed his lips. There was his creation, his beautifully torn face, the bemused expression, and his hopeless eyes. The smile curled slowly on his lips, then pulled quickly upward on his face.
“Welcome to the Cirque!” His voice boomed, vibrating through the plastic lining of the tent. He watched the face of his future performer, focusing on the slowly aware of a gaze. “Mind you, you’ll still need some time to adjust, but you will surely fit in!” His voice held excitement only a psychopath could manage in such a situation. His head dropped to one side, dark golden eyes focus on the figure in front of him. The stare cut through the feeble creature on the floor. Cut through his horrendous attempts to act tough. “My, my.. Seems like we’ll need to break this one in,” he thought out loud, twirling a cane delicately in one hand as he walked around the male. He observed him as if he were a work of art and he, the critic. “Such a wonderful job,” his voice held a purr. A sickening sound to the one currently being observed. Sebastian refused to let the creature speak, thinking of something to say just before the male’s mouth even begun to open. “Yes. He will do well. I am sure the people will love him.”
“Excuse me!” Finally. It seemed he had finally found a moment to cut in, rudely at that. Sebastian turned to face the source, eyeing him carefully. “What did you do to me!? You can’t keep me here!” His voice was frail, not the best attempt in acting strong.
“Oh, on the contrary. You will be staying here. You made the choice on your own. You did not pay for your ticket, you must earn the money. Being in a circus such as this one means you must be a part of the act, but of course, you cannot look normal. No, no. That will do no good.” He paused only for a moment to hit his walking cane against the ground, a warning to the creature that he mustn't talk as he was talking. “So you see, you’ve been altered. You look much better now. You will also fit in much easier with other performers. So, whether you’d like to go home or not, there is not much of a choice now, is there?” He did not wait for an answer and instead continued on. “Who would want you around? No average person, seeing as the average person is highly boring and they do not much of an imagination when it comes to being around such wonderful creatures all the time.” A low rumble of laughter suddenly spilled from his mouth, following by another’s laughter, Taren’s of course, seeing as Amory was incapable of laughter.
The laughter ended with an abrupt halt. Sebastian’s pleasant expression suddenly grew quite serious and he tilted his hat down. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I have other things to attend to. As do Taren and Amory, so I will leave you with another. I trust him to take care of you and I wish you the best of luck. If you can survive through today, you will make it.” Sebastian left his tone ominous. He decided to play with the creatures mind and leave him wondering what he could possibly mean. Before anything else was said, he turned his back to the three in the tent and left with a wave of his cane.
As soon as the leader of the circus reached the meager tent, hidden far back, a broad smile crossed his lips. There was his creation, his beautifully torn face, the bemused expression, and his hopeless eyes. The smile curled slowly on his lips, then pulled quickly upward on his face.
“Welcome to the Cirque!” His voice boomed, vibrating through the plastic lining of the tent. He watched the face of his future performer, focusing on the slowly aware of a gaze. “Mind you, you’ll still need some time to adjust, but you will surely fit in!” His voice held excitement only a psychopath could manage in such a situation. His head dropped to one side, dark golden eyes focus on the figure in front of him. The stare cut through the feeble creature on the floor. Cut through his horrendous attempts to act tough. “My, my.. Seems like we’ll need to break this one in,” he thought out loud, twirling a cane delicately in one hand as he walked around the male. He observed him as if he were a work of art and he, the critic. “Such a wonderful job,” his voice held a purr. A sickening sound to the one currently being observed. Sebastian refused to let the creature speak, thinking of something to say just before the male’s mouth even begun to open. “Yes. He will do well. I am sure the people will love him.”
“Excuse me!” Finally. It seemed he had finally found a moment to cut in, rudely at that. Sebastian turned to face the source, eyeing him carefully. “What did you do to me!? You can’t keep me here!” His voice was frail, not the best attempt in acting strong.
“Oh, on the contrary. You will be staying here. You made the choice on your own. You did not pay for your ticket, you must earn the money. Being in a circus such as this one means you must be a part of the act, but of course, you cannot look normal. No, no. That will do no good.” He paused only for a moment to hit his walking cane against the ground, a warning to the creature that he mustn't talk as he was talking. “So you see, you’ve been altered. You look much better now. You will also fit in much easier with other performers. So, whether you’d like to go home or not, there is not much of a choice now, is there?” He did not wait for an answer and instead continued on. “Who would want you around? No average person, seeing as the average person is highly boring and they do not much of an imagination when it comes to being around such wonderful creatures all the time.” A low rumble of laughter suddenly spilled from his mouth, following by another’s laughter, Taren’s of course, seeing as Amory was incapable of laughter.
The laughter ended with an abrupt halt. Sebastian’s pleasant expression suddenly grew quite serious and he tilted his hat down. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I have other things to attend to. As do Taren and Amory, so I will leave you with another. I trust him to take care of you and I wish you the best of luck. If you can survive through today, you will make it.” Sebastian left his tone ominous. He decided to play with the creatures mind and leave him wondering what he could possibly mean. Before anything else was said, he turned his back to the three in the tent and left with a wave of his cane.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Taren & Amory
“Amory, my boy! We can’t keep that young man waiting! He will be waking soon. Do you have the things?!” Even though Amory was simply standing beside him, Taren screamed as loud as his lungs would let him. The noise did not bother the boy the slightest and he simply stood by the doctor’s side with a blank face. The doctor, yes. Taren was the doctor of the cirque. The word stretched its furthest in its meaning.
“Yes, Taren. I have them right here.” The child held up a small medical bag, his fingers gripped tightly around the leather strap.
“Good, good!” For a moment the man patted his pockets, as if searching for something, but simply continued on his way after a moment. “Yes. He should be awake now. No use in running, where would he go?” Taren laughed at his own joke. Amory simply stared, taking note of Taren’s actions as they made there way to the tent that was currently holding Ivan. It was across the circus, a tent where no one was allowed to enter bu the performers themselves and if anyone else were to peer inside, they would surely ‘disappear’ and never be heard of again.
“Taren! Taren! I heard the news!” What voice was calling out to him now? He had a busy day today. No distractions at the moment, but one of the two headed figures decided to show their faces. As, Roux. It would be her, seeing as she was quite fond of Taren. Despite what he had done to her.
“Yes, my dear, yes.” The group continued walking, Roux eager to follow as Cival tried his best to slow her down.
“Cival! Stop that!” Roux scolded the male beside her, glaring furiously at him.
“Make me!” His voice was harsh and painful to the ear.
The two continued with their bickering and as much as Taren would enjoy to stop, Amory kept him on track. He felt the small child grab his hand, giving it the slightest pull before he started to walk again. “Right, yes.” The tone in Taren’s voice was playful and mocking and quickly the two approached the tent. It was much smaller than the others and held a darker look to it. Amory simply walked inside, followed behind Taren.
In the middle of the tent laid Ivan. His face still showed that he was dazed and trying to find his surrounding. His face was blank as he noticed the two figures that walked into the tent. “You!” he screamed at both of them, but quickly stood up to grab at Amory, simply because he was closer. Before Ivan was even allowed a step forward, his body crumbled beneath him and it found it difficult to use his own limbs. Taren watched with interest as he pulled himself up off the ground again.
“My, my.” Taren held a cocky smile to his face as he stepped forward, watching him. “Can we get up? It doesn’t seem like it.”
Taren looked over his work. The work he was proud of and the work that kept a roof over his head as well as Amory’s and food in both their stomachs. “Amory, my boy. Make sure everything is running smoothly. He can hardly move. Sebastian will be quite proud. You were very much a success,” Taren spoke in an annoying tone. Annoying to Ivan’s ears. He could see in the teen’s eyes that he held pure hatred for him and most likely Sebastian once he realized who that was. Such a foolish boy not to know who he was.
Amory did as he was told, looking over the teen. it was difficult as he tried to smack away the small child, but his attempts were pathetic and useless. His limbs would take some time to gain full control and strength. From each joint in his arms a string was coming out. Ivan found himself constantly blinking before he felt two small hands on his face.
“What-” he started to yell, but was cut off by Taren yelling. For what reason he did not know. He stared at Amory as the child stared at him, curiously glancing at his face. One eye was a milky orange color, one in which Amory had to make sure was working correctly. Amory could tell the teen was staring at him, just as he was staring back, but had he realized why? Amory’s gaze flickered blankly toward him before removing his hands from his face. “You-” Ivan started horrified at what he was seeing.
“Oh, you’ve realized?” Taren laughed, walking over to Amory and putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “His eyesight was growing horribly bad in one eye and we needed a replacement, but Amory of course could not have such a silly looking eye, could he? No, no. Your eye worked much better for him, but now you look more like a freak than before. Sebastian will be happy!” Taren eyed his creation once more. Each joint, including his legs and even the top of his head held a long thin wire of string. One highly smiler to a puppets. Hooked onto his back was a large wooden ‘X’ made out of a light wood to make it easier to carry. The teenager was now a walking, talking, living puppet. The one who pulled his strings, the man who kept this entire place running, Sebastian.
“What did you do to me?!” Ivan screamed angrily, his hands reaching forward, but he found himself unable to take full control of his body. Rage filled the teen to the brim. This was a dream! He was dreaming! This was not possible! When he thought of the performers lives, he was not expecting this is what it would be! Now he understood the woman’s sadness. The two headed freaks constant arguing and anger. This was not a choice they had. The man in front of him purposefully mutating their bodies to give others enjoyment. The train of thoughts was broken as his annoying voice spoke again.
“Welcome to the Cirque!”
“Yes, Taren. I have them right here.” The child held up a small medical bag, his fingers gripped tightly around the leather strap.
“Good, good!” For a moment the man patted his pockets, as if searching for something, but simply continued on his way after a moment. “Yes. He should be awake now. No use in running, where would he go?” Taren laughed at his own joke. Amory simply stared, taking note of Taren’s actions as they made there way to the tent that was currently holding Ivan. It was across the circus, a tent where no one was allowed to enter bu the performers themselves and if anyone else were to peer inside, they would surely ‘disappear’ and never be heard of again.
“Taren! Taren! I heard the news!” What voice was calling out to him now? He had a busy day today. No distractions at the moment, but one of the two headed figures decided to show their faces. As, Roux. It would be her, seeing as she was quite fond of Taren. Despite what he had done to her.
“Yes, my dear, yes.” The group continued walking, Roux eager to follow as Cival tried his best to slow her down.
“Cival! Stop that!” Roux scolded the male beside her, glaring furiously at him.
“Make me!” His voice was harsh and painful to the ear.
The two continued with their bickering and as much as Taren would enjoy to stop, Amory kept him on track. He felt the small child grab his hand, giving it the slightest pull before he started to walk again. “Right, yes.” The tone in Taren’s voice was playful and mocking and quickly the two approached the tent. It was much smaller than the others and held a darker look to it. Amory simply walked inside, followed behind Taren.
In the middle of the tent laid Ivan. His face still showed that he was dazed and trying to find his surrounding. His face was blank as he noticed the two figures that walked into the tent. “You!” he screamed at both of them, but quickly stood up to grab at Amory, simply because he was closer. Before Ivan was even allowed a step forward, his body crumbled beneath him and it found it difficult to use his own limbs. Taren watched with interest as he pulled himself up off the ground again.
“My, my.” Taren held a cocky smile to his face as he stepped forward, watching him. “Can we get up? It doesn’t seem like it.”
Taren looked over his work. The work he was proud of and the work that kept a roof over his head as well as Amory’s and food in both their stomachs. “Amory, my boy. Make sure everything is running smoothly. He can hardly move. Sebastian will be quite proud. You were very much a success,” Taren spoke in an annoying tone. Annoying to Ivan’s ears. He could see in the teen’s eyes that he held pure hatred for him and most likely Sebastian once he realized who that was. Such a foolish boy not to know who he was.
Amory did as he was told, looking over the teen. it was difficult as he tried to smack away the small child, but his attempts were pathetic and useless. His limbs would take some time to gain full control and strength. From each joint in his arms a string was coming out. Ivan found himself constantly blinking before he felt two small hands on his face.
“What-” he started to yell, but was cut off by Taren yelling. For what reason he did not know. He stared at Amory as the child stared at him, curiously glancing at his face. One eye was a milky orange color, one in which Amory had to make sure was working correctly. Amory could tell the teen was staring at him, just as he was staring back, but had he realized why? Amory’s gaze flickered blankly toward him before removing his hands from his face. “You-” Ivan started horrified at what he was seeing.
“Oh, you’ve realized?” Taren laughed, walking over to Amory and putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “His eyesight was growing horribly bad in one eye and we needed a replacement, but Amory of course could not have such a silly looking eye, could he? No, no. Your eye worked much better for him, but now you look more like a freak than before. Sebastian will be happy!” Taren eyed his creation once more. Each joint, including his legs and even the top of his head held a long thin wire of string. One highly smiler to a puppets. Hooked onto his back was a large wooden ‘X’ made out of a light wood to make it easier to carry. The teenager was now a walking, talking, living puppet. The one who pulled his strings, the man who kept this entire place running, Sebastian.
“What did you do to me?!” Ivan screamed angrily, his hands reaching forward, but he found himself unable to take full control of his body. Rage filled the teen to the brim. This was a dream! He was dreaming! This was not possible! When he thought of the performers lives, he was not expecting this is what it would be! Now he understood the woman’s sadness. The two headed freaks constant arguing and anger. This was not a choice they had. The man in front of him purposefully mutating their bodies to give others enjoyment. The train of thoughts was broken as his annoying voice spoke again.
“Welcome to the Cirque!”
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