by Hugo Damas
The Circus Freak bowed. “It has been an honor, lords and ladies!”
The king turned, pushing his heavy chair out of the way as if it was a toy.
“I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD!” The smaller throne bent over to fall like the heavy chair that it was, thundering a pretty appropriate exclamation point for the king’s decree.
The Circus Freak just chuckled.
“I’d give it to you, m’lord, but I think it’s clear I’m not fully in its possession!”
The king bellowed in angry embarrassment. The soldiers raged, insulted for their lord. The guests balked, appalled at the lack of respect.
Then, the Circus Freak did what he always ended up doing. He ran away cackling like a madman, happy beyond belief.
Someone grabbed him as he was leaving the hall. The Circus Freak reacted by whipping his body as if to backhand the man with his left. “Lemme go!”
The man expected the left hand to come at him, so he flinched and released. Laughing, the Circus Freak ducked under a tackle and hopped over two other men, leaving the hall through the door that was set on the side, discovering it led to the kitchens.
The Circus Freak had three issues to contend with. One, he didn’t know if the king kept the diary on his bedroom or wherever he had set up an office. Two, he didn’t know where the bedroom was, and third, he didn’t know where he set up an office.
The Circus Freak had some time, though. He didn’t feel tired, and no warrior in armor would have anywhere near the ability to catch him. As long as he didn’t walk into a room without a way out, he should have more than enough time to figure things out.
The whole castle, as it were, went into a frenzy. The Circus Freak kept running around, not necessarily avoiding guards since they were sometimes standing in the way of where he wanted to get to, in which case he went past them.
Everyone was getting their first experience with the Circus Freak. He could tell by how surprised they were every time he escaped their grasp. How flabbergasted they were by how he made his narrow escapes.
He jumped and hand-glided using a candelabrum. He toppled furniture over a soldier before running over him. He slid under and in-between the legs of a would-be attacker, causing a loss of balance and fall. The Circus Freak must’ve knocked out or otherwise hit around fifteen people by the time he finally found the king’s room.
How did he know it was the king’s room? It was bigger than the kitchen, larger than any one person would ever need a room to be. On top of that, it contained a dented armor and pedestals holding battle trophies like busted helmets and broken weapons. Mementos of the battles he had won.
Why the Shadow Conclave wanted a bunch of swordsmen involved and fighting the Beasts was beyond him, but that motivation was really far removed from what constituted his drive.
Even more so now. The king had irritated him more than enough and knowing how much he cared about that diary could only mean it held some secrets. In other words, knowing he had lost control of his secrets would, for sure, freak him out a whole lot. That was what was driving the Circus Freak.
With that thought in mind, he took further stock of the room. There were three windows in that room, with two of them leading out to nothing but four stories of open air. Because of this, the Circus Freak felt confident about blocking the way in.
Hugo pushed a big hard-oak closet in front of the already sturdy door, and then pushed the bed into it for good measure. He’d want to move it anyway to see what was below and beneath the sheets.
“He’s in the king’s quarters!” A guard yelled out from outside.
“Hey, thanks, I wasn’t sure!” Hugo yelled back, happily. He lifted the mattress to check under, but no book was present.
“Push in! Quick!” The guards had reached the room.
Bodies slammed against the door and accomplished to move the blockage in a noticeable but negligible way. Still, the Circus Freak saw the need to hurry his search.
He checked everything and everywhere he could think of. By the time they had hacked through the door and pulled half of the closet out through the hole, the Circus Freak had turned the room upside down. He had turned around the chairs, the cabinets and even the logs inside the fireplace, as well as whatever frames were in the walls holding paintings. Everything was flipped.
The Circus Freak yelled out in a fit. In a rage, he glared at the broken down door, or rather at the soldiers doing the breaking. “WHERE IS IT?!?!?”
“You must be kidding,” he heard the king’s voice booming from outside. “Get out of my way!”
What was left of the furniture blocking the door bounced back before the mighty blow. The Circus Freak chuckled nervously, knowing he was out of time. If the king retrieved the diary, that would be it, there would be no more finding it.
Another blow sounded out just before the voice of a woman emerged.
“Stop ignoring me! What was he talking about, a diary? You have no diary!” she argued.
“Of course, I don’t,” the king said.
“Why did he seem to think you did?” She whined.
“What do I know of maniacs?! And their thinking?” the king answered defensively.
The Circus Freak smirked heavily, pensive. He had an idea that just might work.
Grinning, the Circus Freak threw a mad laugh at the door. “FINE! Keep it, your royal highness! I’ve gotten bored, anyway!”
The Circus Freak ran towards one of the windows leading outside. He jumped out, but instead of leaving completely, he grabbed the top of the window’s frame with his arm to pull his body to turn up in the air. His feet caught cracks in the wall above the window.
That would be harder without his second arm, but his sense of balance came from his body, not his arms. The Circus Freak grabbed onto a crack and lifted himself.
The Circus Freak climbed out of the window’s view while keeping enough proximity so that he could still hear inside. He stood to the side and over so that a head sticking out of the window wouldn’t immediately see him, not that they would ever think to look up.
He stood there and listened attentively. After they stormed inside in a big burst of noise, the Circus Freak focused on the sound of footsteps and voices.
“I don’t see’im!” He heard a voice calling back from the window.
“Freak like him, he can probably survive the fall. Go! Scour the property for that blasted jester!” The king demanded. “I want his head on a spike!”
It lit up his chest, hearing the king so flustered. No more did he show the mocking easiness with which he had treated Hugo before. He was very angry, and that was so funny.
“Look at what he did to the room, that psychopath….leave me!” the king demanded.
The Circus Freak waited there until he heard the footsteps of all the soldiers leaving. Then, he started climbing back down. He went sideways until he was above the window and then quietly slid back down, all the while hearing the king and queen arguing about the diary.
“I fear for what you have to hide from me, my love,” she said, compassionately.
“I hide nothing,” he responded amiably and at the same time incapable of hiding his impatience. “I tell you, the jester is insane. For all we know, he does not even strike the right king.”
“He seemed to recognize you,” she said.
“He seemed like a harmless clown until I laughed at his antics. He is naught but a troubled maniac with knowledge of oriental pugilism looking to get a rise of us, my love. Nothing but.”
The queen grumbled, unsatisfied, and the king laudably sighed. Hugo could hear because he had his arm flexed just above the top of the window, holding his body upside down against the wall. He was ready to swing inside at a moment’s notice.
“I will see to the guests, husband, or would you rather go yourself?”
“I will go when I have his head,” the king told her disgruntled. “And not before.”
The Circus Freak listened to footsteps moving away.
“T
he slap was unruly and embarrassing,” she said, clarifying that it was so for her as well, if not more so.. “We must make amends with the royalty.”
“Hence my need for that head. I will rest for a second and then rejoin the search. I overexerted myself opening that door,” the king said.
“Oh, but how strong you showed yourself to be,” she said in admiration, “I hope to see some of that strength still remaining later on tonight”
“I always have more strength than I know what to do with,” the king said, so very virile.
“That is why you have me,” she said suggestively. “I know very well what to do with it.”
The king chuckled, pleased, and the footsteps grew farther and silent.
She had left.
The Circus Freak counted the seconds, excited beyond words. He heard a shuffling, and an abrupt stepping noise heading towards one of the walls.
“Come on come on, he couldn’t have found it,” the king mumbled.
The Circus Freak grinned so hard he felt his face would never be normal again. His mind was one continuous out-of-control laughter, and it was taking all his effort not to scream it out.
Hugo heard cranking and a grumble of rock, and trembled in anticipation.
The king sighed from inside with relief.
“It’s still he--” The Circus Freak pushed off the wall with his foot, turning his body while still grabbing on to the window sill. His body swung inside into a landing worthy of his lithe agility, and while he thought to interrupt the king, he actually interrupted someone else who was interrupting the king.
A woman was inside, holding a rope made of a series of tied handkerchiefs which was wrapped around the king several times, from the chest up.
“Circus Freak!” Her familiar voice yelled in surprise and anger. The Circus Freak thought he recognized her, but he couldn’t remember, nor did he have the time to. He stepped inside the king’s reach, taking advantage of his constricted state. He was awkwardly holding onto a tome which had to be the target of all their attentions.
“DON’T YOU DARE!” The king was, at that moment, doing his best to pull his sword out.
The woman spit fire out her mouth -- Hugo had to admit, that was quite surprising -- which only motivated his snatching movement to move quicker. The book came off the King’s hand, causing him to grunt painfully. Whether that was because of feeling his diary being stolen, or from the flames enveloping the cloth around him, it was anybody’s guess.
“NO!” The woman yelled, spinning. Her sleeve unclasped from the rope of handkerchiefs and gave way to flowers. The small bouquet spat liquid onto the floor around Hugo’s feet.
The Circus Freak scoffed happily. “Oh, are you a clowwwnnoooaah!” His feet slipped and made him fall on his butt.
Not wanting to stay out of the altercation, the king ripped opened the burning cloth around his face and shoulder, and emerged with a raging facial expression. A face slightly soothed and definitely missing eyebrows.
Hugo laughed at the look of him.
“THIEVES!” The King bellowed, unsheathing his sword at last. This time, his grip was that of a butcher. “IN HERE, DAMN YOU ALL!!”
The king stepped to cleave at the Circus Freak instead of at the woman -- it seemed the slap was a worse offense than setting him on fire -- but alas, he also slipped on the liquid.
“OOF!”
Meanwhile, the woman had done some hand movements to conceal whatever she did to produce a hawk. A real, breathing, freaking hawk.
So a bird of prey was now staring around, waiting for an order. The whole scenario was getting more and more ridiculous by the second, and the young woman herself really added to it by looking completely out of place, now that he took a moment to notice.
She was dressed like a performer, but one coming out of a magic show. She had a cape, black on the outside and bright red on the inside, with a top hat and a sleeveless buttoned vest that went up into a tiny bow-tie collar. Her pants were also dark, as were her shoes.
She looked even more out-of-place than Circus Freak, since at least he was a jester in a court.
Hugo laughed. “What is this??” The Circus Freak kicked the King in the side, sending him away and meanwhile sliding out of the liquid. The Circus Freak rolled back and landed with his feet on dry floor.
Still sensing a certain lack of attrition, some liquid on the soles, the Circus Freak had to contend with the hawk. It flew in and collided with him while grabbing at the book with its talons.
“I see you lost an arm meanwhile, you wretch!” the woman yelled
Who was she? Where did he know her from?
“I WILL KILL YOU!” The king bellowed, desperately trying to get a firm stand. “I WILL-WHAOSHWAAA!” The king fell again.
The Circus Freak didn’t have his extra arm to punch the bird away, and it was thrashing at his good arm with his beak.
“OW! Quit it, I only have that one arm,” he complained, but he was still laughing. After all, the Circus Freak couldn’t feel any actual pain and the silliness of the situation was really too funny.
“Just let go of it, blast you!” She demanded, marching around the liquid to get to him. And at that moment, when she lowered her head and looked up at him ravenously, did memory finally emerge to reveal who the girl was.
“Oh!” The Circus Freak pointed at her with the arm he no longer had, his stump doing its best. “You’re the magnif--” the bird flapped his wings in his face, suddenly becoming a real annoyance.
“I said quit it, bird!” Without a hint of hesitation, the Circus Freak clenched his teeth down on its wings.
Blood gushed. The hawk shrieked, letting go of the book. The Magnificent Magician flinched and winced at the same time. “Arugh!“
The Circus Freak jerked his head harshly, throwing the bird away. The King was actually getting a firm stand, but then a bloody bird of pray smacked against his face.
“Ewwgah-wha!” It caused him to slip again. “Oof!”
At this point, the Circus Freak’s makeup had melted a bit due to sweating, and was getting sticky. Not only from his effort on the wall above the window, but also from the flames. Because of all of that, a few feathers were stuck to it, just like some bloody bits of the bird were still stuck to his teeth, which he showed by grinning with joy.
Her eyes balked, truly frightened.
“You’re the girl I left in that prison!” The Circus Freak nodded proudly. “That’s you, right? ‘Can’t hurt me, myeh myeh, rules and stuff,” he mocked using her sandy voice. “But I bopped you in the head so you’d sleep a bit and I got out. That’s you, right?”
“Yes,” the Magician hissed, shaking her head. Indignation was making her brave enough to handle the sight of him, and what he had just done.
“No rules here,” the Circus Freak alerted her, “I can hurt ya. I can hurt ya really bad.”
The Magnificent Magician shook her head as if waking herself from a nightmare and glared at him in challenge. “Well so can I, freak!”
She brought up a bottle of water and took a quick jug. She then threw it aside absentmindedly.
It obviously hit the king. “GAWH-whoah!” He slipped and fell again, bird of prey trashing at his face. “DAMN YOU ALL! WHERE THE VOID ARE MY SOLDIERS?!?!?”
The Circus Freak laughed even more.
The room was all broken up into pieces of chaos. The king’s face was singed, his eyebrows burnt off, and the expression of shame and disbelief on him was priceless as he tried to push the feral hawk aside. Meanwhile, the Magnificent Magician was all dressed in black except for the inside of her cape which was bright red. And had a top-hat! At the same time, the Circus Freak was a one-armed clown holding the book in his one good arm while the other did the best it could to point at things or otherwise gesture his amusement. He was wet, tired, sweaty, with raw bird meat in his mouth, and feathers on his face.
The Circus Freak was happy beyond belief.
Her cheeks bulged, and her orange eyes
flared with murderous intent as her black ponytail swung side to side to the movement of her head.
The Circus Freak dove to the side to avoid another fire-spit. “Ooooh! What a fiery woman!” Hugo yelled, overjoyed.
The Magnificent Magician growled and spun around to conceal what manner of trick she used to summon a pistol.
She wasn’t a guard or a soldier, though, she didn’t give him a line he could joke about. She just opened fire.
“Whoah!” The Circus Freak hopped to the side and decided better than to keep playing around. There was still much fun to be had in that crazy world, with so many more personalities yet to freak out. He wasn’t about to risk his life to see if the situation in that room could get any funnier, he was going to get out on top.
The Circus Freak dove out the window.
“NO!” They both yelled.
The ground rushed at him. Without fear, without pause, the Circus Freak flipped in mid-air, timing it so he would hit the ground with his feet while still flipping so that he could direct half the force of his fall into a forward movement. The rest was mitigated with a roll across the floor.
A bullet hit the ground next to him, but there was no way she was going to hit him at that distance, especially not at the speed he took off.
“BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME, SWEETCHEEKS!” the Circus Freak yelled out into the sky, knowing she would be enraged by the insult.
“WE WILL FIND YOU, FREAK!” She screamed back, as if trying to chase him down with yelling alone. “THIRD TIME’S THE CHARM!”
The Circus Freak cackled as loudly as he could, allowing his happy laughter to fill the night! To steal its way into the nightmares of whoever would listen.
Lookin’ forward to it, Magnificent Magician.
The Circus Freak ran like a tumultuous gust. He headed to one of the towers.
He sped up its stairs. “Hey st--” He tripped the guard to fall down the stairs and continued climbing, avoiding another one who tried to swing a sword at him.
Coming out to the actual wall, he had to contend with an archer. He reached her before she had properly knocked the arrow and threw a kick that broke through the bow and hit her in the chest, sending her back and over the wall.