Chapter Twenty-seven: Elodie

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It’s so subtle, isn’t it? Carnival music. A subtle kind of forced cheer, yet somehow, associated with something fundamentally darker. We can’t really be that close to the place featured on the flyer. We’d only been driving for ten minutes, but I can already hear the music vibrating in the back of my head.

Undertones of the calliope run sickening tunes through the windows of the car, and in the distance, I spot the parking lot. It’s empty. Sheila gives me an unsettled look as she turns into the lot, past a single sign with an old-fashioned bulb shining over it.

“Purple Diamond Freakshow: meet the man who emerged from the pit--alive, but just barely.”

Then, in bigger letters underneath: “Get your freak on.”

Shit, what were we going here?

Shit.

I clutch the seatbelt nervously, scraping my nails over the tiny silken rivulets.

There’s a gasp from the back, followed by a low string of curses.

I turn to see Elie staring out of the window with a mildly horrified expression. He’s scooched as far in as possible away from whatever he saw.

“What?” Dev questions from the back.

“I think I just saw the clo--a clown,” Elie rasps.

“Christ Elie, don’t tell me you’re scared of clowns. This would have been useful to know before we brought you here.”

He blinks rapidly, as if in an effort to clear his vision. “Um, no. It’s just--no--of course not.”

Dev pokes his head out from the back of the car, looking at Elie skeptically. “Dude, that wasn’t very convincing.” He leans forward to try to get a glimpse out of Elie’s window. “I don’t even see anything. Let’s just get this over with it.” He spends a moment trying to climb over the seat from his spot in the trunk, before realizing it wouldn’t be possible. “Elodie, can you open the trunk, I think it’s the only way I can get out.”

Jayne snorts and lithely slips out of the car, slamming the door behind her. “Come one, guys! It’s actually really nice outside.” She slips her jacket off her shoulders, baring her shoulders to the dull light of the parking lot. I squint hard, wondering if my eyes are deceiving me. Are those scars on her shoulders? Swallowing hard, I slowly open the car door and step out beside her. I realize I know next to nothing about the people that I’m risking my life with. I promise myself that I’ll talk to her about it after this whole circus thing is over.

“So,” Jayne turns to me brightly, “Where do we go first.”

I scan my eyes over the parking lot. Beneath me, instead of pavement, is a sheet of trodden grass. Towards the edge of the lot, there’s a path of muddy rocks leading to a flashing sign.

“Come in!” A little stereo next to the sign sings, blaring just the music that we’d been hearing in the car. Perfect.

It’s perfectly dark, the sky hangs close and gray, and the warmth of the heart of the carnival-like lights engulf us in a suffocating embrace. Carnival concession stands line the path.

A cotton candy stand--empty.

Ring toss--empty.

Duck pond--empty.

Water Gun gallery--empty.

Dart throw--empty.

“Guys,” I whisper, “Why is it empty?” I glance into one of the stands. While lights line the path, none of the stands are lit at all. I step off the path and climb into the ring toss stand and begin to feel completely cut off. I’m just in my own little dark cloud composed of dusty coke bottles and faded plastic rings.

Along one wall of the stand, stuffed animals are hung on hooks--presumably for prizes. Stray tendrils of light seep and find their way into the stand, giving glossy eyes a sort of dead sheen. I hear a rustling behind me, and I jump away, heart racing.

“Relax, it’s just me,” Elie mutters. He stares hard a stuffed monkey hanging from a peg. Reaching forward gingerly, he plucks it off the hook, looking haunted. With quaking fingers, he runs his fingers over the stitching along the sides. His finger disappears into a rip in the side and he draws in a shuddering breath, dropping it as if it’s burned him.

“Oh, hell.”

“What is it?”

“Banana Man.”

“What?” I manage a weak chuckle.

“It’s mine. I lost him a while ago.”

“What?” my voice raised in pitch slightly.

“I lost him at a carnival when I was five, Elodie.”

My stomach drops at the implication, and I lurch forward as I feel something brush my leg. I spin around instinctively to see what it is, but Elie stops me. “Don’t look.”

“Wha--”

He shoves me out of the booth and scrambles out after me. I frantically search the area for the others, but see no sign of them. The music seems to get louder, and louder, until it’s drowning any rational thoughts. I clutch Elie’s hand to ground me and he squeezes back, and I finally spot something in the distance. “I think I see them!” I yell this over arcs of rumbling tones.

We trudge towards them. Sheila waves us over, or maybe she is waving us away? The music fades to a dull throb the closer we get to them, and I realize that they’re not alone--a man has joined them. The man’s face isn’t discernable until we’re only a few yards away.

It isn’t a face.

Elie stiffens.

It’s a mask.

Elie takes a step backward and tugs me back. “That’s the clown I saw back in the car.”

He takes another step backward.

Elie clears his throat, “He’s--I’ve seen him before.”

I slip my hand out of Elie’s and step forward to get a better look.

The mask covers only the top part of the man’s face. On his chin are two distinct scars with stubble growing around them. His chin is painted white, cheeks powdered red. He wears latex gloves that match the color of his mask. And although this mask covers his nose and most of his face, I can see right through to his eyes. Two unsympathetic slits, gleaming just as dead as the stuffed monkey. But there’s something else too, perhaps it’s amusement . . . excitement?

Not insanity. It isn’t insanity.

A part of me wilts slightly. Insanity, I could deal with insanity, but this? Unlikely.

He takes a step forward in muddy boots, encrusted with filth and something else that shines stickyly in the night. His chest rises as he takes in a wheezy breath. “Eliezer, I suppose you’re realizing some shit, aren’t you, boy? And to answer your question, yes, I’ve been happily infected for more time than you’d think. And I’m that man that fell into the pit.”

Elie stumbles back and tears pool into his eyes.

“I’m surprised. That one flyer is all that it took to get you over here.”

I grab Elie’s shoulder as he attempts to charge forward.

A smile slices through the mas’s painted face as he looks between us. “Welcome to the freak show.”

***

Author's Note:

Phew, I finished a bunch of testing this week. Now I have just a bunch more to go, lol.

Yeah, anyway, it looks like we have a new character in the picture? Who does he seem to be? Do you like the music? I picked it specially to give you nightmares ;)

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