Dark Perceptions (Mystic's Carnival Collective)

by Kristi, Debra

  The car swerved left, just missing the curve beneath the snake’s head. The snake stretched its head high and looked down on us. I yelped, and the car maneuvered again. This time to the right, avoiding the parked cars to the side of us. The long tail laid out before us moved, swayed, forcing us into an abrupt, sharp left down a new aisle, accelerating in our escape.

  The ground shook and rumbled, and in the rearview mirror I saw the body of the snake loop and spin. The tail slapped down behind us and the car bounced. I screamed. Matt made a hard right, seeking passage in an open gap between parked vehicles. The ground dropped out from beneath us. The car hopped and skittered to the lower parking level, right into the mouth of the waiting snake―and utter darkness.

  Fear-frozen, unable to move, my insides screamed in sheer panic. This was not how I’d pictured my death. I was supposed to grow old. Maybe stay with Matt―maybe forever. Have kids. Grandkids.

  I reached over and squeezed Matt’s shoulder.

  Everything shifted and my body was thrown to the left. Then we were falling. Diving. A hard bar dug into my waist, wind whipped through my hair, and people screamed, a mingled terror and delight. Then we hurtled out of a tunnel.

  Clickity clack.

  Clickity clack.

  —came the sound of a track beneath us. The car swerved, spun, and dipped. Only it wasn’t our car, it was the front car of a roller coaster. How had that happened? Enormous blades of grass shot up around us and something long and sleek moved through the green. Snakes, lots of them. The coaster was even painted like one long, jointed, mechanical version. We dropped over a new peak and fell at incredible speed. People in the cars behind us hooted or screeched.

  More twists, turns, drops, and loops, then we darted for a channel made of metal, within it only shadows.

  My hand, death-gripped on the pressure bar, peeled free, found Matt’s. Whatever came next, I would have him at my side. He gave me strength and a sense of calm. The feel of his hand in mine soothed me and the look in his eyes, brief as his gaze was, made me believe in the improbable.

  We sped through the shadows once again, and I decided I no longer wanted to be afraid. For Matt, and mostly for myself, I would be strong. I would face the insanity surrounding us with courage. Fear was only an emotion. One I can work to overcome, I told myself.

  The car slowed, came to a stop in a regular ride exit. The bar lifted and we were ushered out along with the rest of the riders. No ghosts or goblins waited, no Grim Reaper. Only that strange fortuneteller, Sebastian. He leaned against the nearest metal support, watching us. Instant tension caused rigor mortis throughout my back. Walking past him was the only way to the exit, giving me no other option.

  I gritted my teeth, steeled my gaze, and locked my resolve in place. Hands handsomely secured, Matt and I marched right up to Sebastian, steered left, and kept moving. Sebastian followed.

  “Not your ideal experience, was it?” he said, striding up beside us. Sebastian again wore his cloak and it draped out behind him, reminding me of a lunatic magician.

  Matt skidded to a halt, turned, and glared at him. “Who are you people and what the hell do you want?”

  Sebastian punched two fingers to the air. “Excellent question. An even better one is, will you trust me now?” My jaw dropped open. I quickly snapped it shut. As if sensing my thoughts, he looked directly at me. “You followed Viola’s direction against my better judgment. See how well that worked out?” He motioned to Matt and me, then to the ride, and then beyond―probably toward the car, wherever it was.

  “Okay, you’ve made your point.” Matt sounded irritated, and he pulled me behind his back, shielding me from Sebastian’s view and putting me close to his strange neck marking. “Now explain to me why we should trust you any more than that poisonous woman.”

  “Every answer you seek will be yours at Big Eli.”

  “You mean the Ferris wheel, right?”

  Sebastian nodded. A tiny tilt of the head, a flick of the finger. He had the mannerisms down for the showman he pretended to be. “Precisely.” There was an air of egotism in the way he said the word. Like we should know and simply accept his word, trust the strange things unfolding around us.

  “Why would we want to go on that thing?” Matt said.

  “Why wouldn’t you?” Sebastian countered. “It has the best view, and…”He directed his gaze at me. “…every girl wants to be kissed at the top of the Ferris wheel. Don’t they, Sara?”

  I could have been standing there naked, I was so mortified. “How did you…?”Anger rose up my belly, exploded like hot lava. “That was private!”

  “Every girl harbors that desire,” Sebastian said, a soft smile smoothing the lines of his face.

  I wasn’t buying the creep show he was selling. Maybe Matt wasn’t either, because he dragged me out the exit of the slithering roller coaster, back onto the midway, and into the waft of dank sawdust and sweet cotton candy without another word to Sebastian. Once again, we stood in view of the towering Ferris wheel. The circle of lights flashed and changed like a mood swing. A most brilliant one, worthy of a thousand gazing hours. Alluring, it called to me, drew me in. I took a step, then another, and stopped. Found it hard to still my legs from taking the next stride toward the humongous ride.

  Damn. I’d been infected by the place. I actually wanted to participate.

  Panic rose up through my chest. I’d promised myself to remain strong, yet fear occupied my every thought. I tried to understand it, understand what was happening to me, and I analyzed my inexplicable desire to go to the Ferris wheel. I looked to Matt and saw a complicated mix of emotions playing on his face.

  Something jolted in my gut. It was a flutter, really. Not a punch or a smack, but a gentle, barely-there brush. Not an emotion or a feeling, but a thing. An inexplicable thing.

  A card fluttered to the ground, where it landed face down. I didn’t need to see it to know what it was. Another skull tarot card.

  Sebastian stared at the card, his brow creased and eyes darkening. He then stepped back, as if releasing us. “Perceptions can be misleading. Trust your gut.”

  It was the ready-set-go Matt had been waiting for. Pulling me at his side, he took off, a man on a must-quench mission. We were two minuscule mice in a zealous horde, weaving our way in and out of people toward the tall circle of lights now humming our names.

  For all I knew we could be walking straight toward the Eye of Sauron, and I didn’t care. I wanted to be there, now, at the Wheel. I held Matt’s hand and kept pace with his every move. The bewitching circle of lights got closer and closer and closer. So close, the air around us vibrated with its energy. Snapped and sparked with electrified excitement. So big and bright, it stood only a ride’s walk away. It was right in front of us. And then it was not.

  We were staring at another blur of light. Blue, red, and white. A horizontal spinning ride, of sorts. Definitely not the Ferris wheel.

  I rubbed the back of my neck and squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe the wheel would reappear if I just blinked hard enough. Exhaustion must be to blame―or maybe the joint. Although that seemed ages ago now. It was the only explanation. But nothing changed when I opened my eyes.

  Matt scanned the skyline and jabbed the air with his pointer finger. “There.”

  The Ferris wheel now sat off to our right, several ride lengths away. How had that happened?

  We were off and moving again, only this time not quite as fast.

  We were almost there―again. So close I could practically taste the victory on my tongue. The sweet flavor a kiss at the top would bring. A sensation I knew better than to trust. Then everything changed or shifted or moved. The horizontal spinner once again positioned itself in front of us. The Ferris wheel was now off to our left, with the parking lot clown standing in-between us and our goal.

  Matt, not to be deterred, scooted us around the painted madman, away from the spinner, and broke into a run. I was beginning to feel stuck in a twisted version of Groundho
g Day, because sure enough, we didn’t reach the Ferris wheel. We got sidelined to the spinner―again. Now two clowns stood in our path.

  I wanted to scream. Fall on the ground and curl into a ball. This game was wearing and my arms and legs already pulled on me like dead flesh.

  Matt turned to me. “Do we want to do this all day, or shall we see what happens if we get on this spinning ride, since it keeps popping up in front of us?”

  I gulped, letting every ounce of fear and anxiety slide into my stomach. The answer I wanted to give was something more along the lines of fade into the sawdust, disappear, cease to exist. Not that those were options.

  Hand shaking, I looked at our interlocked hold and squeezed. The warmth of him, all of him, washed over me and his breath caressed my cheek. “It will all work out okay. I promise,” he said gently.

  I wanted to believe him. Needed so desperately to believe. But he didn’t know a truth from a lie. Not in this place.

  I hadn’t chosen to ride the roller coaster. Wasn’t sure what I would do when and if we ever got to the Ferris wheel. I questioned my decision to now follow Matt onto the spinning ride. I turned and looked up toward the magical circle of lights rising above everything in the carnival. Two clowns were now five, standing between us and Big Eli. I shivered and hastened to skitter into the line behind Matt.

  The line moved at a quick pace and I watched the ride twirl and tilt and spit the riders out, my anxiety churning with each step I took closer.

  Breathe.

  Just breathe.

  More victims filed in, a red baseball cap sitting on the head of a lofty dark-haired man, the glint and glimmer of a silver jacket wrapped around a blonde. Shivers swept through me, the night’s brisk breeze not to blame. I laid that squarely upon the ride standing before us―and the clowns hovering at our back. Another deeply rooted prejudice festered in my belly. One seeded a lifetime ago, and since, reinforced tenfold. I didn’t like carnival rides. Hated them, actually. Especially fast ones, flipping ones, twirling ones, spinning ones, tumbling ones. Anything tempting the laws of physics. That disdain made my desire to get on the Ferris wheel all the more perplexing. I straightened my shoulders, dug my heels in, and shoved my courage to the forefront.

  This was different. The tragic events of the Claytonville disaster would not be relived tonight. The past was behind me. I wouldn’t think about sixth grade, all the people I had known, or the Zipper taking a flying leap into the crowd. There were no repeats, and a silly spinner wasn’t going to get the best of me.

  Breathe, breathe, breathe.

  I wasn’t going to let the past affect the now. No more ride phobias or clown obsessions. Overcome the fear, I reminded myself.

  The mental pep talk went nowhere. Did nothing for my fortitude. I gritted my teeth and pushed forward, an insatiable chill swirling around my ankles. My first step wobbled, unstable on the makeshift floor. Instinct bubbled up, willing me to back away, skitter the opposite direction. Only that would paint me yellow, a bright and shining coward in Matt’s eyes. The last thing I wanted.

  What am I really afraid of? I speculated, staring at the whirling lights awaiting.

  None of the answers that came to mind made any sense. It was nothing more than a carnival ride. An overhyped, light-up-the-park, spin-till-you-yak thrill.

  We pushed forward and I watched its latest victims spill out, nothing other than happiness filling their expressions. Joy and enthusiasm in their jaunt. Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, I counted. Where was Mr. Tall-dark-and-red-cap? Or the gal with the flashy silver jacket? I couldn’t find them. My lips slipped into a sour frown and I drew closer to Matt, trying to hide, protect myself from disappearing, as well. Why was nothing about this carnival normal?

  “Where did the guy with the red baseball cap go?” I squeaked, layering the worry on thick.

  Matt looked at me like I was mad in the head. “You’re not looking to replace me already, are you?”

  “No!” The word flew from my mouth with the force of a wrecking ball. I took a deep, calming breath. Surely he teased. If he knew how I felt, he would never… “I’ve just been watching and counting. I don’t see the same number getting off as going on. And I can’t find the guy with the red cap I saw earlier, or the girl in the silver jacket.”

  I sought Matt’s deep brown eyes for reassurance, for comfort, for strength. They mitigated my inner turmoil. His hand found the curve of my back, the spot guaranteed to send tingles of security rocketing through my system.

  Matt looked to the crowd exiting the ride. “I don’t see them, but I’m sure they’re there,” he reassured. “The guy probably took off or lost his hat in the spin, and the girl is hidden by all the people coming out at once.” He shifted his weight, pulling us closer, and brushed his hand along my spine. “No one went missing.” He tossed me an encouraging grin, one that said I knew better and was above silly panics. “Now come on, we’re going to see where this takes us. Remember?” He grabbed my hand tight, dropped his brows, and tossed me a daring smile. Step by step, up he pulled, guiding me toward the spinning cyclone filled with screams of anticipation and excitement and fear.

  Which scream would be mine? Excitement, anticipation, fear?

  The metal grates creaked and groaned beneath each foot fall I braved. I feigned a front I barely held onto, kept wrapped around me like a false mask, a makeshift armor. The massive machine’s motor, wailing like a yowling cat, scratched at my self-control, and I clutched the railing beside me till my fingers drained white to steady my tremble.

  Steam billowed around us, kicked up from the motor below. Sweat trickled down my neck, my blouse clung to my damp skin, and my heart hammered an overwrought jig in my chest. People pushed, shoved, herded us through the entrance. I searched the faces around me, looking for something besides anticipation. I sought foreboding, the emotion tacking my feet to the ground like tar, slowing my approach. Everyone rushed. Everyone except me.

  Wait! I don’t want to go.

  I planted a determined scowl on my face and forced my legs to keep moving stiffly forward. Let Matt lead the way.

  Inside the beastly contraption, a ghastly adapted Roulette Wheel spinner, the atmosphere dropped upon us, heavy and oppressive. I shuddered, feeling the presence of death. Anything but welcoming. Mirrors lined the interior walls, casting an unnerving peep show in the dim, strobing light.

  Smoke and mirrors, all part of the trick. I knew that.

  The illusion.

  The game.

  The terror.

  It had me quaking on my feet.

  My reflection gazed at me and the girl I saw, the girl looking back, was unrecognizable. No spark of life lit her features. Something dark and diseased resided behind her eyes―oblivion? A shudder moved through me, an icy chill squeezing the heat from my limbs. Even Matt’s leather jacket did little to provide comfort.

  Perceptions can be misleading, I reminded myself.

  The crowd shifted around the circle, finding their ideal spot. The engineer moved with them, making sure each and every one was locked in securely.

  I leaned forward into Matt’s body, brushed against his back, and whispered, “Why did I let you talk me into this? Fly-by-night rides are insanely dangerous.”

  “All part of the allure.” He cast a beautifully wicked grin and yanked me around the circle to two empty spots. Two spots with our names dripping across the back wall.

  I gulped, then blinked. Squeezed my lids tightly closed, wishing the nightmare over. Not our names. Not possible, I reassured myself. Only my imagination. Has to be. Our names couldn’t possibly be written inside the ride. And in what? Blood? No. I couldn’t believe that either. It was too ridiculous.

  When I opened my eyes again, my breath escaped in a whoosh of relief.

  Blank.

  The back wall was blank. Nothing but grey metal. Of course there was no writing. Never had been. That would be inconceivable.

  As if to escape my proposed ride impr
isonment, I leaned into Matt and the safety his presence provided. “Let’s skip this and go to the Ferris wheel, like we wanted. This one freaks me out.”

  A silent laugh rumbled through his chest, the kind that would have turned me on if I weren’t so uneasy. With strong arms clasped around me, he leered over me and pretended to gnaw at my neck. His attempt at playfulness felt forced and I laughed sharply, then swatted him away. Normally I loved the attention, but now was not the time.

  Even though I was pushing him away, my hands enjoyed the chiseled lines he’d worked so hard to maintain. My blood heated, percolated like coffee, and possibilities for our future, for what lay in store, thrilled me. “Doesn’t it bother you that every direction we took to get to the Ferris wheel led us here?” Fear had me whispering, forcing him to edge closer to hear.

  Matt’s lazy eyes suggested he didn’t harbor the same concerns, or masked them well. He confirmed with a shrug, suggesting the detour didn’t matter. “I don’t know what to make of this night, Sara. Any of it. But let’s make the best of our time together, while we can.” He edged up against me. His breath tantalizing my ear. His cold nose slipping in a curve along my cheek. I shivered involuntarily, the night air or oppressive atmosphere or the ride’s squirm factor having nothing to do with my reaction.

  Overhead the light flickered, then blew out. A theatrical display of sparks showered upon us. Sweltering droplets landed on my arm. Burned my skin, if only mildly, and knocked me out of my slow-mo state of mind. The one that had me dragging my feet to our spots on the ride.

  “Get moving, you two,” the ride engineer called from several feet away.

  I ignored him, nudged Matt and jabbed my finger straight toward the light. “If that’s an omen, maybe we should leave. Leave now.”

  He laughed, brushed my hair behind my ear, then adapted a dead-serious frown. “Don’t be scared. I’ll protect you.” He squeezed my hand, then stepped into the bay beside me and latched his harness.