Attend the Circus

If I had known what would have happened to my mind after entering the red-and-white-striped tent, I’d like to believe I would have never walked in there, but in truth, I still would have. It was supposed to be the performance of a lifetime, a show like no other, and it lived up to this description. I was one of the lucky ones of the crowd, a new member of the sick band of rejects that enjoyed every moment of what their lives had become. Their own twisted fantasies came to life, not only in this world, but in me. Their actions awoke my own gruesome thoughts that I tried to suppress, but this suppression only led to my own aggression. I’m still not exactly sure what caused my true mind to be awoken, but once it was, there was no hope of going back. The nefarious acts of these strangers, my new friends, had unbolted my own vault of grotesque thoughts and emotions.

In one of my final moments of sanity, I had decided to go to the local circus that had opened up just that very night. My first suspicion was caused by this enigmatic event was only here for a single night. Still, I was convinced to attend the performance. So as I prepared myself, ticket in pocket, money in purse, phone in hand, I grabbed my silver keys and made my way to the ebony door to exit my home. This would be the final moment my presence would be in my old home.

Upon my arrival at this wicked event, an sickening feeling washed over me. I was torn, and debated for a second on whether or not to turn around and leave the circus that I would come to find would indulge in all my nightmares and deep, fiendish desires. I finally decided to attend, asking that what was the worse that could have possibly happen while I was watching the performance. At worst, a lion would attack a trainer, or a tightrope walker would plunge to the ground due to their lack of balance. As I approached the striped tent, I realized that the ticket I had purchased beforehand had no significance, as there were no workers collecting tickets. All the people who had shown up to the circus were able to walk through and into the tent without having to pay. This raised my suspicion even further, and angered me, as for the fact that I paid for no reason at all.

As I walked into the circus, an eruption of wild colors and decorations covered all over of the proximity of the tent. I gazed at the streamers, the balloons, and the painted faces of those who worked there, and I realized just how creepy this place of supposed fun truly looked. It seemed as if I had entered a twisted alternate reality, where instead bringing people joy with witty clowns and sweet cotton candy, this circus catered to those who enjoyed gore and suffering. I took notice of the demonic smiles planted on the faces of clowns that passed me; the black, gothic outfits of the animal trainers; the hanging of streamers that resembled guts, the smudged makeup of jugglers who held knives rather than pins in their hands; magicians that seemed to be planning heinous acts throughout the night; and fires that were lit in various areas of the tent, a hazard that I am sure was not of any worry to those in this sick circus. I looked around, observing the panicked faces of those surrounding me. Children held onto their parents, shielding their eyes in fear as the adults looked around, observing the brutal design as I stood emotionless. This devilish scenery had no effect on me, which should have been a clear indication to myself to get out of this evil tent, but as most of the others who had come out tonight began to head for the exit, I and a few other people stayed, taking our seats.

As I sat, I watched as the performers conversed among themselves, laughing in what seemed to be the most sinful manner. As I studied these devilish figures, I had the bitterest taste in my mouth that not even the thought of something so sweet could get rid of. My intuition told me that this circus performance was not going to be anything but terrifying, but I couldn’t remove my interest from this performance. My curiosity compelled me to attend this demonic horror show.

Suddenly, the lights shut off, and darkness polluted the room. Then, a single spotlight shined down in the center of the ring. A man with his head lowered stood at attention under the spotlight. After twenty seconds of silence as the crowd watched this man intently, he finally looked up and into the crowd, giving a diabolical smile. He adjusted his top hat as he scanned all of about fifty people in the crowd. His body was clad in a red and black suit, and his jacket was decorated with golden buttons and shoulder pads.

“Welcome all!” he spoke, his eccentric personality oozing from his tone of voice. “Welcome welcome welcome! My name is Marcelino Godfrey, but you all can refer to be as Marcel!”

The individuals in the crowd studied the way Marcel engaged with them, swinging around his whip as he turned to speak to each section of the crowd. I was drawn to him, the way he carried himself and his body language. It was as if my mind was entranced by him, and I couldn’t leave this state of interest. He seemed confident and insidious, and I found the way he spoke slowly made me begin to lose my sanity.

“For our first act of the night, I will be needing one victim from the crowd to come down. Any volunteers?” Marcel asked. Everyone in the crowd sat in silence. “Oh, I am just teasing you about needing a volunteer! Yeah, I don’t need anyone to volunteer, because we already have someone picked out. Please, if you will, ladies.”

Two women that were dressed as ballerinas from the crowd of misfits walked up into the stands, starting towards a person they already picked out before the show had even begun. When a lady was picked, she tried to refuse, saying that she did not want to volunteer. The two women, not satisfied with this woman’s refusal, grabbed her and picked her up, dragging her down the stands. The woman screamed as the crowd of the people watched in horror, not knowing what to do in this moment of distress.

“Hey, get off of her!” a stranger called from the opposite side of the stands.

“Leave her alone!” a brute man screamed hoarsely as he stood up, preparing to save the woman who was being carried down to the ring.

“Oh no, no, no! I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” Marcel laughed maniacally. A group of devilish looking masked figures started over towards the rough man and grabbed him by his arms, and preventing him from saving the woman. I felt myself zone out, not phased by the panicked reactions of the viewers as the circus misfits danced around wickedly. I felt myself becoming numb to the sensations of horror and fear the crowd was enduring, and I felt myself connecting with the people of this terrifying performance.

When my mind came back into focus, I noticed the two ballerinas were strapping the woman they previously selected from the crowd to a circular wheel that I assumed was meant to be spun. I also noticed how the magicians, dancers, acrobats, jugglers, and animal trainers laughed, prancing and interacting with each other. They seemed to be also taunting those in the crowd, pointing and snickering as they were enraptured by the expressions of terror planted on the onlookers’ faces.

After what seemed to be five minutes, the woman was finally strapped onto the wheel with no means of escaping. She sobbed as she tried to pull herself from the ropes that tied her to her fate, pleading out for help from someone in the crowd. The masked figures that had prohibited the bulk man from rescuing this victim were now surrounding others in the crowd, preventing us all from attempting to leave this nightmarish event.

“Now, my darling, what is your name?” Marcel questioned sweetly as he approached the wheel closer stepped closer to the wheel. He had begun to lightly stroke this woman’s hair off of her face as she looked at him with utter disgust.

“Get me out of this freak show, you lunatic!” the woman screamed, anger radiating through her.

“No, no, baby, I asked what your name was,” Marcel tsked. The woman shouted more curses at Marcel before he sighed in a disappointed manner.

Marcel walked back over to a caped man who stood a few feet from the wheel, shaking his head.

“Guess our mystery woman doesn’t want us to know her name. It’s a shame; would’ve liked to introduce her to you all before her final moments. Well, what can you do?” Marcel shrugged spoke to the crowd. I couldn’t move, I felt frozen. “Well, Gustaf, on with it then!”

The caped figure who I assumed was Gustaf turned to face the helpless woman on the wheel as the two ballerinas begun to spin the wheel, causing the woman to wail in horror. The caped man revealed three shiny knives that he had hidden within his velvet cloak. The crowd screamed in terror as we all knew what would be next.

The first knife was launched. The woman screeched as it came to land next to her arm.

The second knife was thrown. This knife found its place in the wheel next to the woman’s leg.

The third came now. Gasps erupted from the crowd as the knife plunged not into the woman, but into the area next to her head. The woman, with tears streaming down her cheeks, let out a shaky breath as she realized the figure had no more knives.

The caped figure turned to walk away, ashamed that he had missed, when Marcel approached him.

“My goodness, Gustaf, I almost forgot to return to you your fourth knife. Forgive me, please!” Marcel apologized sincerely as he presented to Gustaf his final weapon.

Gustaf hesitated, before quickly snatching the knife from Marcel’s hand and quickly turning around to hurl the keen object of death towards the still spinning woman. The knife plunge directly into her chest, causing for pandamonium to erupt through the crowd. People screeched with horror, while some shielded their eyes from the nefarious sight of the circus performers, who were cackling hysterically, enjoying every bit of terror they were inflicting on these innocent individuals.

I couldn’t help but find myself suppressing a smile, finding their acts to be of a great entertainment. I was overcome with the feeling that this murdered woman wasn’t real, and that she truly had no significance. It was entertainment; she was a pawn for the people’s own amusement.

As the night continued on, the heinous acts of these individuals became more and more malicious. They slowly ejected people from the crowd to partake in their twisted activities of torment and suffering, but the focus never came to me, that is until almost the very end.

“Now, for this next act, we are going to be doing what our main intent was when we ventured here,” Marcel began to explain. “Three of you, in this crowd tonight, are special. Not like any of the others. Two of you three have all at one point committed a heinous act. A terrible act that inflicted some amount of pain on someone else. And the other person, the third person, is the true special one. The one who hasn’t performed an act like the other two, but has the potential to. The one who wants to, but never worked up the courage to truly indulge, but this person will, after tonight. will after tonight. Can I get a spotlight on these three, please?”

Suddenly, three spotlights shot down in different areas of the crowd. One on a woman a couple of rows down from me, one on a man on a different stand, and the final one on me.

All three of us were escorted from where we were sitting and taken down to the ring. As I made my way towards the group of performers, a masked man leading my way, I felt as if my legs were going to collapse beneath me. I had no comprehension of what was happening anymore, and my vision became impaired by clouds of fog that I was almost sure was an apparition from my own mind. My body became numb and the sickened emotions of my darkest desires began to rush through my head. I thought about every person in my life who had ever wronged me, all the impulses I had ever felt to fight, hurt, even murder someone for causing me some sort of trouble in my life. I felt that the lives of other humans were no longer valuable, and it was all some sort of game of my own mind. My sanity had begun to eradicate itself rid itself from existence.

When the three of us had finally made it to the center of the ring, we stood at attention to Marcel, who smiled at us demonically.

“Now, here we have two special individuals,” Marcel began as he separated me from the other two who were called down to the pit of nightmares. “I’d like you all to meet Amber and River. Amber here is no victim; she is one of us. Eleven years ago, she drowned her baby daughter in the bathtub and claimed it was an accident. But this was no accident; she is one of us. And then River here. He is much like Amber. He murdered his mom and dad after claiming to be on vacation in Florida. He is no saint either.”

About ten people who were left in the crowd reluctantly watched as Marcel gave his speech. As he spoke about Amber and River, I studied the structures that were placed around the inside of this tent. I noticed a lion trainer in a gilded cage that contained a ferocious wild cat that was performing tricks. I studied the way the lion trainer had no fear being in the same vicinity of this beast that could maul him in an instant. It was like the lion trainer was almost invincible, and he knew it. The lion trainer had no fear, not of the lion and not of death itself.

“Now that you all are introduced to River and Amber, I would like to turn the attention to our very special guest!” Marcel exclaimed as he finally turned to me. “This, my friends, is darling little Marilyn. She has not committed a heinous act, but she has the capability to. We are going to allow this vivacious young woman the opportunity to prove herself worthy of indulging in her darkest fantasies. Roman, please!”

A man who I presumed to be Roman stepped out of the shadows to reveal a hostage he had tied up. My face was expressionless as a feeling numbness began to overtake my body.

“Now, Marilyn, what we all need from you is to take this knife here,” Marcel explained as he held out a knife for me to grab. “And prove yourself worthy of being one of us. Amber and River have already done so, and now it’s your turn!”

Slowly, I gripped the knife and took it from Marcel’s hands, turning around to face the captive woman who would be my ticket to the world of my own vile dreams. I approached the kneeling woman who had tears streaming down her cheeks, begging for mercy. Any other person would have recognized her distress and fear, and give their empathy to her. A woman who had her whole life ahead of her, surrounded by family and friends. She may have possibly already had children and a spouse, but none of that was on my mind. Without hesitation, I raised the knife and plunged it deep into her chest. My mind was empty, and my last bit of sense had finally disappeared. I removed the knife and began to plunge it repetitively into her, finding great exhilaration in continually stabbing the knife deeper and deeper into her the way the knife felt around my hand as I continued to stab over and over.

After a minute of continuing to stab this woman, I heard laughter and clapping erupt from those in this satanic circus. There was blood covering my hands, arms, and all over my clothes. I stood up and faced Marcel, before collapsing into his arms. next to Marcel and hugged him. I continued to thank him over and over, while he just laughed and began to call over all the others in the circus, finishing my own initiation.

Ever since that particular Saturday night, I had found my own calling, my own people. I had finally been given the opportunity to bask in the satisfaction of fulfilling my own desires. The circus’ little tour went on for the next year, allowing the bunch of us to wallow in the sorrow we inflicted upon those unfortunate enough to attend the circus. I had been chosen by fate to be initiated into a group of such incredible individuals that strived to help me carry out my twisted thoughts, and I will forever be thankful for these people. After that exceptional experience at the local circus, I had finally begun to live my true life.