by Chase Connor
The tent fell silent, even the music stopped as the clowns and dancers below stopped and stood, staring up at their cohort about to perform a feat of pure insanity. Lucas and I were holding our breath, our food now gone, as we stared up at the woman who was wearing what looked like a brightly colored ballerina clown costume. The deafening silence of the room, the only sound I could hear was my heart in my own ears, only added to the suspense of the moment. Everyone was staring upward, watching as the performer took her first step onto the tightrope.
Step by slow step, the performer made her way out onto the cable strung between the two towering platforms. She was laser-focused, staring straight ahead at the platform she was trying to reach before gravity won this game. Halfway across the expanse between the two platforms—which I had been calling “Life” and “Death” in my head, she wobbled precariously, nearly losing her footing. Lucas jumped in his seat, a hissing breath sounding from between his clenched teeth, and I felt his hand fall on my hand that was on the bench between us. I glanced over at him nervously, and he smiled sheepishly, quickly pulling his hand back to his lap.
You could have held my hand if you wanted.
Lucas gasped, and my attention was drawn back to the tightrope walker. She was still wobbling, one foot off of the cable as she tried to correct herself. Everyone in the crowd was either gasping or groaning in desperation, and though there were not that many of us, it seemed to fill the tent. We all were hoping that we were not about to witness the death of a performer. Luckily, as quickly as she lost her footing, the performer corrected her stance and began advancing across the cable again. In my mind, I knew that this was probably an act she put on every time she did the tightrope, just to give the audience a thrill, but it was still absolutely terrifying. When she reached the other side, Jason Morris and his pack of friends, Lucas, and I all cheered loudly. The clowns and dancers below the tightrope cheered as well, congratulating their friend on not plummeting to her death. The tightrope walker performed a grand bow from the platform that had saved her life and then began to descend the ladder.
The organ music began again, drowning out any chance that I could turn to Lucas and tell him it was okay to hold my hand. Not that I would have been brave enough to do so. Surely, telling another boy that he could hold my hand if he got scared, would label me as…something I wasn’t ready to be labeled as. Instead of attempting to convey that message to Lucas with my eyes, I kept my attention on the show before us. The dancers and clowns on the floor struck up their routine again as they were joined by flame throwers and fire dancers in loincloths, their bare chests exposed, which made me tingle in places I didn’t want to mention. Women balancing on balls, rolling around the circus ring, joined in. At a feverish pitch, more and more performers joined at the center of the ring and did their stunts and tricks.
Lucas and I laughed and cheered along with the other group of kids as the performers put on what surely had to be the greatest show ever performed. For what seemed like hours, but I knew that to be impossible, the performers did their jobs, keeping us entertained as we stared at them, smiling and wide-eyed. The organ music was jostling my insides into jelly and assaulting my ears. The performers’ tricks and the lights were assaulting other senses, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long before I was overwhelmed. However, the performers of CARNAVAL proved once again that they knew when they had hit a climax. Just when I thought I couldn’t take the sights and sounds another single second, the music came to a clanging end, and all of the performers reached for the sky dramatically. They were all smiling out at us, panting for breath, grinning grotesquely, their jobs well done.
All of us in the stands stood and cheered and stomped our feet, showing the performers our appreciation for a show one would never catch outside of something from Cirque du Soleil. The performers stood there and panted and smiled as we cheered until, finally, the ringmaster appeared from the side of the ring and hurried in to join them. He gave a grand bow as we all continued to cheer as if he had anything to do with what we had just watched. Finally, the performers all seemed to relax but stayed in position around the ringmaster as he began gesturing for everyone in the bleachers to take their seats once more. Even though there were few of us, it took a minute for everyone to stop cheering and return their butts to their seats. Once we were settled, and our cheers had tapered off, the ringmaster’s booming, theatrical voice rang out.
“Once again, ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to CARNAVAL!” He boomed, his toothy grin never leaving his face. “We hope you’ve enjoyed our dancers, our acrobats, our aerial feats!”
Ladies and gentlemen? I thought to myself. That was quite a greeting for a little more than a dozen teenage kids from the local high school.
“We know that you are all frothing at the mouth and gnashing your teeth to ride our death-defying, heart-pounding rides! To stuff your faces with hot dogs and popcorn and—”
Uh, yeah. The show’s cool and all, but the whole point of a carnival is the food, games, and rides, sir.
“But we entreat you—stay in your seats!” Richart held his hands up, his ever-present riding crop jabbing skyward. “We have one final performance—the likes you’ve never seen! No carnival—no performing troupe—in the world has an act like this!”
Yeah, we’ll see.
“Ladies and gentlemen—”
This shit again.
My eyes shot to Lucas. He looked electrified, absolutely twitching in his seat with excitement at what was to come. Suddenly, he glanced at me, a wide, toothy smile coming to his face. An easy smile came to my lips, and we shared a brief moment of wonder and excitement, then his attention went back to the center of the ring. I followed his lead, and my eyes went back to Richart. It was only then that I realized Richart had paused and was scanning the bleachers, making sure that he had everyone’s attention. As soon as my eyes landed on him, I realized he was looking directly at me, waiting for me to pay attention. How odd. When he saw that he had my attention once more, he continued.
“Les Loups du CARNAVAL!”
Even though there were around a dozen of us in the bleachers, it seemed like the tent suddenly filled with murmurs. None of us were dumb enough not to realize we had just heard Richart give us the name of the next performance in French…but what high schooler in Point Worth, Ohio understands French? Richart was stepping backward, sinking into the crowd of performers who were still posed around and behind him. Glancing over at Lucas, he met my eyes, and I could tell he was just as confused as I was about what we’d just heard. I turned my head to look at Jason Morris and his pack of idiot friends. They were utterly transfixed, totally unconcerned with what Richart had said to us. It was almost as if they were all under the spell of CARNAVAL!
I shook my head. Even I had started screaming the name of the performance troupe in my mind. Lucas nudged me suddenly, drawing my attention. He was pointing at the center of the tent, a concerned look on his face. Turning my eyes back to the spectacle at the center ring of the tent, I could no longer see Richart. Not really. All of the performers were writhing around, like an undulating mass of arms and legs, only flashes of the red and gold of Richart’s coat appearing between them sporadically. One second, I’d catch sight of his black top hat, and then the next, I could no longer see any part of him in the mass of undulating and twisting bodies.
Goosebumps prickled my forearms as I watched the performers at the center of the ring begin to writhe and twist, making inhuman shapes with their bodies in a mass of flesh and limbs. I felt, more than saw, Lucas scoot across the small space between us, knocking the empty popcorn bucket to the floor. His hip and thigh pressed against mine as we watched the performers move and writhe in the ring before us, Richart completely swallowed up by their movements. I glanced over at Jason and his friends once more and saw that they were leaning forward in their seats, practically an advertisement for teenage lust and hormones.
Admittedly, there was something sexual about the way the performe
rs writhed around each other’s bodies and pressed against each other, even if they all had clothes on. However, the impossible angles of limbs and torsos, the way that they seemed to melt into each other, slide around other bodies, all seemed more grotesque than sensual. All of the bodies working together seemed like a throbbing womb, about to give birth to a horror that no human eyes should ever have to see. Somehow, I knew in my gut that what was going on was not good. It was not something that a dozen teenagers should be watching. Underlying that, I felt…danger.
Without thinking twice about it, I reached down and grabbed Lucas’ hand, gripping it firmly. He jumped at my sudden touch but did nothing to try and yank his hand free of mine. When I stood jerkily, he followed my lead. Then I was quickly leading him down the bleachers, each step bringing us closer to a run. The bodies in the ring continued to writhe and twist as a low growl began emanating from the mass of bodies. Stepping off of the bottom bleacher, my feet hit the ground, and I was pulling Lucas towards the tent’s exit. Jason Morris and his pack of friends, I could see out of the corner of my eye, seemed to be inching down the bleachers, trying to get a closer look at what was going on in the center of the tent and the perverse display of the performers.
Urging Lucas along, I headed for the tent exit at a full run, clasping his hand tightly. We ran away from the grotesque display straight towards the canvas flaps that would lead us back outside. Upon reaching the black tent flaps, what I could only describe as a howl, rang out sharply behind us. Lucas and I both jumped, though we didn’t slow our pace. We ran straight through the tent flaps, letting them flutter behind us as we ran through the carnival grounds, hand in hand, straight for the gates. Lucas was panting beside me as we ran, obviously scared out of his mind. I knew, without asking, that he had no plans to stop running until we were beyond the gates of CARNAVAL. Even then, we probably would keep running until we fell over from exhaustion.
We had nearly made our way to the gates, they were within my sight, when a sharp howl pierced the air behind us. Whatever had howled in the tent was now out in the carnival grounds. Somewhere behind us, muffled by thick canvas, were the horrified screams of teenagers. I gasped and ran faster, Lucas matching my pace. The unmistakable sound of something with more legs than a human running to catch up with us sounded from behind us.
“Run!” Lucas screamed.
I was gasping, my hands reaching for my throat, as I sat up in bed, woken suddenly from my deep slumber. My fingers clasped at my throat, as though I felt as if someone had been choking me as I slept. Jostling and thrashing as I sat there, it took several moments for me to realize where I was. If it hadn’t been for Lucas’ hands on my shoulders, trying to steady me as I fought to catch my breath, there was no telling what I might have done. Maybe I would have clawed at my throat until I gave myself a ragged tracheotomy just so I could feel like I was breathing again.
With Lucas’ hands on my shoulders and my hands clutching at my throat, I was slowly brought out of the confusion that my dream had brought on. Incrementally, I was able to adjust to my new surroundings and remind myself that I was in bed at home, safe and sound. The things in my dream were not real, just imagined. Nothing was going to get me. The howls I heard were just my imagination playing tricks on me. The panic lessened, but my chest continued to heave as I forced myself to let go of my throat. Spastically, I turned my head, trying to find Lucas’ eyes in the dark.
“Hey,” He said gently, trying to soothe me as he held onto me. “Hey, babe. You just had a dream. It’s okay. I’m here.”
“Oh. My. God.” I gasped, finally able to catch a breath.
“It’s okay.” He chuckled warmly, pulling me into him. “Nothing’s going to get you, babe.”
Heaving against Lucas, my heavy, spastic breathing jostled us in the bed as I did my best to get my physical reactions to my dream under control. Other than the fading panic from such a dream, all I could think about was how ridiculous I felt. I was a grown man acting as if he didn’t know the difference between a dream and reality. Luckily, my boyfriend obviously didn’t judge me for being in such a state after such a vivid dream.
“It’s okay, babe.” He cooed in my ear. “I’ve got you. The big bad meanie things in your head won’t get you.”
“Har. Har.” I managed to gasp breathily as my arms went around him.
He chuckled. “You okay?”
“I will be.” I sighed, my breath finally slowing down as I squeezed him tightly and buried my face in his neck. “Thank you.”
“It’s okay.” He said again, his hand reaching up to pat my hair as I nuzzled into him, reminding myself that everything was okay. “It was only a nightmare. I swear.”
“I know,” I mumbled into his neck. “It just felt so real.”
“It wasn’t.” He reminded me. “I promise. Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, my nose rubbing against his flesh.
He chuckled at the sensation.
I did it again.
“No.” He admonished me, pulling away. “Don’t get started. It’s the middle of the night, and we need our sleep. You have a big day tomorr—today.”
“Please?” I pulled back slightly to grin lasciviously at him.
“If you’ve recovered, we’re going back to sleep.” He tilted his head forward to put his forehead against mine, presenting an amused smile. “We need rest. Maybe when we wake up, though.”
“You’re worse than the big bad meanie in my dream.”
“I do my best, babe.” He gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “Come on. You wanna be big spoon or little spoon?”
I sighed. “Little spoon, please. Hold me.”
Lucas chuckled. “All right.”
Slowly, I slid back down into position on the bed and turned onto my side, facing away from Lucas. He inched up behind me, the length of his body pressed against the back of mine, which did nothing to squelch the desire I had for him at that moment. I did my best to not say anything else about that, though. Lucas was right. We had a big day, and we needed sleep more than anything. As Lucas’ head laid down next to mine and he wrapped me up in his arms, I nestled my head in the crook of his arm with a sigh.
“I’ve got you, babe.” He kissed the back of my head, tenderly.
“It was so real.” I sighed sleepily. “You and I were kids again. At this circus or something. And there were weird clowns selling popcorn and cotton candy. And there was this bizarre guy named Richart who was the ringmaster…I think there were wolves or something?”
Lucas kissed the back of my head once more.
“That sounds like a great plot for a movie, Jacob.” He teased.
“You should get into comedy.” I rolled my eyes, though I wasn’t unamused.
“Let’s sleep,” He said, another kiss to the back of my head. “There’re no clowns or wolves here, babe.”
“That’s comforting.” I yawned, nuzzling my head against his arm once more. “I love you.
“I love you, too.” Lucas sighed dreamily.
Slowly, we both drifted back off to sleep, wrapped up in each other’s bodies as thoughts of wolves and clowns fluttered away.
Point Worth, OH
1975
Sitting atop the tree stump just inside the halo of light cast by the campfire, the man slowly opened the book, letting it come to rest upon his lap. The children gathered around the perimeter of the campfire sat in the lotus position, leaning forward expectantly. All of their parents had brought them to the old lands out by the lake to hear this story, just as parents had been doing for many generations past. Flames from the fire licked high into the night air, sending sparks and embers floating into the velvety blackness above. Skeletal arms and fingers of the trees in their deep autumn slumber flickered in and out of sight with each spout of flame from the fire. The man looked slowly around the circle of children sternly, solemnly, before suddenly clearing his throat, making the children twitch anxiously. Looking down at the book, his mouth opened, an
d his grave voice poured forth:
“Once upon a time…”
evil came to this land.
Its name…was Bloody Bones. Though, what it was, no one knows.
Where it came from, no one knows.
What it looks like, no one knows.
What is known is that it has almost always been here. Lurking. Waiting. Watching. From beneath us.
Rising from the depths of the water, it would drag wicked children into the depths, never to be seen again.
“Sass your parents…Bloody Bones will getcha!”
“If you don’t clean up your mess…Bloody Bones will getcha!”
“Fight with your brothers and sisters…Bloody Bones will getcha!”
Parents would often say these things to their children, warning them that bad behavior would summon it. Bloody Bones would come for the wicked children. No one knew why everyone thought Bloody Bones only came for wicked children because, truth be told, he comes for all. Eventually, Bloody Bones comes for all of the wicked people, children and adults alike. No one is safe from it. It is everywhere at all times, waiting for its next wicked soul to claim. Though, no one really knows much else.
The one thing that is known is why it is here.
Many years ago…centuries…eons…who knows, really? Bloody Bones simply rose from the ground, given life by the very magic that permeates every inch of this Earth. But it wasn’t just the magic of the land that gave life to it…it was also the evil that seems to fill the nooks and crannies where magic doesn’t reach. Where there is good, there is always evil. You can’t have one without the other. There must be balance.
Bloody Bones began its wrath of terror, claiming souls for its own. Ripping children from their beds and dragging them away, leaving tearful mummies and daddies wondering where their babes had gone. It killed livestock and family pets. Flying through the countryside, distorting the very magic which had begat it, attempting to create a new world in its vision.