‘Could be very useful,’ says your dad, grinning at you. ‘So you better behave.’
Is this to be your destiny? Clucking like a chicken for your parents’ amusement each time you misbehave? You’ve got to do something!
Should you go back to Bruce and demand that he fix you? But can you trust him to do that? Maybe you should solve this yourself? The question is, how?
As your parents move off towards another attraction, you wonder what would happen if you snapped your own fingers. Could that perhaps break the hypnotic spell?
If you decide to snap your own fingers, go here.
But if you’ d rather confront Bruce the hypnotist, go here.
Your mum finishes singing Mary Had a Little Lamb. And you immediately say ‘sing’ again.
Your mum is looking rather annoyed as she starts all over.
As you walk around the carnival, you manage to work the word ‘sing’ into conversation another five times.
By the time you reach home, your mum is furious with you and your dad is getting pretty sick of Mary Had a Little Lamb.
You wonder what would happen if you said ‘sing’ twice. You give it a try.
Your mum starts singing the same song, but in an opera singer’s voice. When she gets to the high note on ‘lamb’, every window and mirror in the house shatters.
Could you take it a step further? What about ‘sing, sing, sing’? You give that a try.
When the high note comes, pain shoots through your head. Your eardrums feel like they’re about to burst. Your vision blurs. You see your dad clutch his head before falling over.
Then, with a ‘pop’, everything goes silent … FOREVER!
Your finger gently brushes the shrunken head.
Mr Montgomery grins, showing his set of perfect white teeth.
Go here.
You turn to leave.
‘Wait!’ shrieks Grizelda, scuttling over to you. ‘Have you ever wanted to join the carnival?’
You admit that the thought has crossed your mind.
‘Grizelda has an opening,’ she says, stroking your arm and smiling at you with yellow teeth. ‘Stay, and Grizelda will tell you all about it.’
A little shiver runs down your spine.
If you want to stay to learn more about joining the carnival, go here.
But if you’ d rather explore the other sights and sounds of the carnival as a simple spectator, leave the tent. Go here.
You get to your feet and sheepishly apologise to the llama. It doesn’t react.
You’ve had enough of this animal. You turn your back on it and walk off.
As you’re heading out of the tent, the spectators burst into incredulous applause. You turn back.
‘That was amazing!’ says your dad. ‘He really is a Wonder Llama.’
What did the llama do? Now that you’re watching, it’s not doing anything!
You ask your dad.
‘I can’t describe it,’ he says, still smiling. ‘It was awesome!’
Your dad and the other spectators file out of the tent.
If you want to leave with your dad, go here.
But if you’re determined to find out what’s so special about the Wonder Llama, maybe you should stick around and watch it. Go here.
You cautiously edge your way around the tent and peer out into the gloom.
The clowns weave their way through the background of the carnival – an expanse of muddy grass with cars, trucks and storage tents.
A teenage boy wearing a backwards baseball cap walks out of a portable toilet block. The lead clown’s arm snaps out, finger pointing at the boy. The other clowns pounce on him.
You can’t quite see what’s going on in the shadows, but there are sounds of a struggle. Then the clowns head off towards a large tent on the edge of the carnival grounds, taking the boy with them.
You shiver, watching them disappear into the tent. Have you just witnessed a kidnapping? What should you do now?
If you want to run for help, go here.
Or, if you’re feeling brave, you could sneak up to the tent and try to find out what the clowns are up to. Go here.
You scowl at the Wonder Llama and leave the tent.
Your dad heads off to find your mum, saying that he’ll meet you at the entrance in an hour.
You look around, wondering what to do next. There’s that Freak Show tent you saw earlier. That might be interesting. Right beside it is a smaller tent with a sign that reads: Fortune Teller. You’re sure that wasn’t there before. Perhaps the fortune teller can recommend what you should do next?
If you want to visit the fortune teller, go here.
If you would rather check out the Freak Show, go here.
You go back to the hypnotist’s tent. Bruce is still on stage and has another volunteer with him.
You interrupt his show and complain about what he has done to you. You demand that he undo it.
Bruce snaps his fingers and you start clucking.
‘So you’re not happy with bein’ a chook, eh?’ He stares into your eyes as you cluck. His pupils expand and his eyes fill your vision. ‘Maybe you’d like something else?’
Your mind fogs over. Your vision blurs.
Go here.
Slowly the fog clears.
You’re standing outdoors in the middle of the carnival, people bustling around you. How did you get here? You can’t seem to remember.
A clown passes by. He walks towards the space between two tents and then looks back at you over his shoulder. It’s the lead clown you saw earlier, at the carnival entrance. He touches his white forefinger to his temple like he did before – a strange mix of salute and wave. Then he’s off, disappearing into the darkness.
You get the feeling he wants you to follow him.
If you decide to follow the clown, go here.
But if you think it would be wiser to go in search of your parents, go here.
You snap your fingers and immediately start clucking.
‘Stop playing around,’ says your mum, snapping her own fingers.
The clicking sound jolts through your brain. You’re still clucking. In fact, you’re clucking more than ever. You want to shout for help, but all you can do is cluck.
Your dad steps up to you and snaps his fingers right in front of your face.
Pain shoots through your body and you squat. You have a sudden urge to find a nest.
Your parents are yelling at you now, but you can’t understand them. You look at the worm you discarded earlier. You dart forward and scoop it up in your mouth.
As the worm slides down your throat, you realise that you need to do something. You need to find a nest. You need to lay an egg.
You turn away from your parents, destined to live life as a chicken … FOREVER!
You nod, deciding to stay and listen.
‘You’ve made Grizelda very happy,’ says the woman. ‘Now come over here and meet Mr Montgomery.’
She leads you to an open display case at the far end of the tent.
Mr Montgomery is like an oversized prune with wispy white hair and goggling eyes. You stare at the eyes. They are mesmerising.
‘Mr Montgomery will help you join the carnival,’ says Grizelda.
The shrunken head is whispering to you in hushed, raspy tones. But you can’t quite make out what he’s saying.
You edge closer. You reach out, feeling an urge to pat the head.
‘He likes a good scratch behind the ears, he does,’ says Grizelda.
You hesitate.
Grizelda shoves you and you stumble forward, your hand touching the shrunken head.
Mr Montgomery grins, showing his set of perfect white teeth.
Go here.
You decide that you can’t handle this on your own. You run back into the main part of the carnival and start yelling for help.
Passers-by stop and stare at you. A clown glares at you from around a tent and then disappears.
A policewoman approaches.<
br />
Your parents come running.
‘Are you okay?’ asks your mum, hugging you.
You nod.
Your dad tells the policewoman that everything is okay and she heads off.
You tell your parents about the clowns kidnapping the boy. They stare at you.
‘Clowns kidnapping people?’ says your dad.
‘Are you sure it wasn’t a joke?’ asks your mum. ‘After all, clowns are meant to be funny.’
You turn away from your parents in frustration. The policewoman is almost out of sight.
If you’re determined to convince your parents of the truth and argue with them, go here.
But if you think it’s hopeless, perhaps you should chase after the policewoman and tell her about the clowns? Go here.
You chase after the policewoman, leaving your parents behind.
When you catch up to her, you tell her what you saw.
‘Really?’ She puts her hands on her hips and looks at you disbelievingly. ‘Maybe it was some sort of joke. I mean, clowns are meant to be funny, aren’t they?’
You insist that it’s true and that if she doesn’t help, you’ll find someone else.
‘Okay, okay,’ she says with a smile. ‘If you really believe it, I’ll check it out. After all, we can’t have clowns doing things that aren’t funny. Show me where it happened.’
You lead her behind the tents into the darkness, pointing to where the clowns dragged the boy.
‘Let’s go investigate,’ says the policewoman in a cheery voice.
You hesitate and suggest more police officers might be a good idea.
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ she says, putting a hand on your shoulder. She grips hard and starts leading you to the clown tent.
You struggle and shout.
‘Quiet!’ says the policewoman.
She lifts a hand to her neck. You see that her fingernails are long and claw-like. They dig into her flesh. With a quick ripping motion she pulls off her face …
It was a mask!
And beneath it is the face of a clown. Ugly! Evil!
You take a deep breath, ready to scream. She lifts a clawed finger to her stretched, red, smiling lips. ‘Shhhhhhh.’
You scream anyway.
She lunges at you.
You close your eyes … for the last time.
You run across the muddy grass to the tent and cautiously peer through the flap.
The clowns shove the boy into a cabinet and slam the glass door shut.
It looks like a bizarre magician’s cabinet. The sides are painted in garish green and red stripes. A red sphere, which looks like a giant clown nose, rests atop the cabinet on spindly wire legs.
The boy yells and bangs his fists on the glass. The lead clown operates some controls on the right of the cabinet. The large red sphere brightens and the glass mists over. The sounds within subside.
When the glass clears, you see that the boy now looks like a clown – his face is ghastly white, his hair is bright red and frizzy, and his lips are overly red, stretched into an exaggerated grimace.
A gasp escapes your lips.
The lead clown whips around to look in your direction.
You stagger back.
Did he see you? Will he come to investigate? What should you do?
If you want to run away and get help, go here.
If you want to hide, go here.
You whirl around and shout at your parents. Why don’t they believe you?
‘That’s it,’ says your dad. ‘We’re going home.’
As you leave the carnival, there’s a clown at the front gate. He is smiling and waving at you.
When you reach home, you go straight to your room and lock the door. But you don’t go to bed. You wait until your parents have gone to sleep, then you open your window and climb out into the night, heading straight for the carnival.
It’s late and the carnival is shut, although you can see some dark shapes moving about, packing things up.
As you sneak through the front gate a voice shouts from the darkness:
‘Stop right there!’
Do you stop?
If you choose to obey the voice, go here.
If you think it might be better to run, go here.
You run!
Dodging through the tents, you trip over one of the ropes and fall face first into the mud. From behind, you hear a voice shouting, ‘Come back!’
You pick yourself up and look around frantically. You’ve got to find a place to hide. You pull back the flap of the nearest tent.
You are face to face with a llama. It spits at you. You stumble backwards, turn and fall face first into a pile of elephant poo.
The llama laughs and trots off.
Blinded by the animal droppings, you grope around and grab hold of something solid. You haul yourself to your feet and lean up against the cool metal, wiping the muck from your eyes.
You feel a gust of hot breath on the back of your neck. You turn around and see …
Wide open jaws. Saliva dripping from sharp teeth.
And then a loud roar slips through the silence of the night.
You’re leaning up against a lion cage!
You stumble backwards, slip and fall right back into the pile of elephant poo.
You scramble to your feet, slipping and sliding in the poo, and run blindly between the tents.
You don’t get far before you’re drenched in ice-cold water. You shout in surprise and look straight into the face of a clown. He’s standing with an empty bucket.
You turn and run in the opposite direction …
Straight into the vice-like grip of another clown. His red lips distort into a wicked grin, revealing needle-sharp teeth.
‘Come to join us?’
You twist out of the clown’s grasp and run for the front gate. Heart pounding, you race out of the carnival grounds.
Go here.
You decide to hide. You look around. Where?
You see a rotting tree stump lying on the sodden grass and throw yourself down behind it.
Slosh!
You land in a patch of mud.
The tent flap parts and a clown face peers into the night. The lead clown comes out and looks around.
You duck, pressing your face down into the mud. You try to keep your breathing even as you listen carefully.
You hear the clown’s footsteps squelching across the ground, this way and that. Finally, they become more distant. You risk lifting your head and looking up. You see the clown walking off towards the carnival.
You jump to your feet, wiping the mud off your clothes, and race towards the clown tent. You look in.
With the lead clown gone, all the others stand around the edges of the tent as if in a trance, their eyes staring off into nothingness.
You enter and gaze at the clowns. They are in some sort of trance.
You see the clown who mouthed the word HELP earlier on.
Should you try to break the trance?
If you want to approach the clown and try to wake him, go here.
If you’ d rather examine the strange cabinet, go here.
You pull aside the flap and enter the fortune teller’s tent.
It’s dark and gloomy, and the sickly sweet smell of incense hangs in the air. There is a small table in the centre of the space, with an empty chair beside it. You wonder where the fortune teller is.
The incense tickles your nose and you sneeze.
You look up to see a woman sitting at the table. Where did she come from?
She’s short, her arms barely reaching the table, and she is draped in copious scarves. Her face is round and her hair is brown and long – so long that it cascades over the scarves all the way to the floor.
‘I am Madame Mags,’ she announces, ‘and I see all.’
She shuffles a deck of cards and deals out three of them, face down on the table.
‘I see multiple paths stretching ahead of you,’ she says. ‘Many d
ecisions for you to make that will affect your destiny. Each of these cards will set you on a different track.’
Madam Mags turns each of the cards over, revealing …
A grinning clown.
A grotesque shrunken head.
A row of carnival tents by moonlight.
The fortune teller looks up at you and smiles. ‘You choose!’
You gaze down at your choices. It’s all just a carnival trick, of course. The cards couldn’t possibly control your future. So it really doesn’t matter which one you choose. Does it?
If you choose the clown, go here.
If you choose the shrunken head, go here.
If you choose the carnival tents, go here.
You run into the darkness between the tents, looking for the clown. He’s nowhere to be seen.
You continue on behind the tents to the background of the carnival – an expanse of muddy grass with cars, trucks and storage tents. You wonder where the lead clown went, when you’re grabbed from behind and spun around. A grinning face fills your vision.
It’s him. ‘Do you want to be a clown?’ he asks in a weird singsong voice.
You shake your head. The clown grips you tighter, his fingers digging into your skin, making your shoulder ache.
‘Everyone wants to be a clown,’ he says. ‘And everyone will be!’
You wriggle out of his grasp and run back to the main part of the carnival.
You can see the clown following, so you dash into the nearest tent … right into the middle of a show.
Night of the Creepy Carnival Page 2