by JG Faherty
“Safety…what…I don’t understand.” Jason rubbed his hand across his head and yelped when it touched the tender lump on the back of his skull.
Tunnel of Love? They were back at the carnival? How had they gotten back?
Or did we ever leave?
Suddenly, it all made sense.
None of it was real. I dreamed the whole thing. The castle, the storm, all of it. How freaking crazy is that?
They’d been in the swan boat. That much he remembered. Something—a wave, a malfunction, a bunch of stupid kids—had tipped them over. He’d fallen into the water and hit his head on the boat. That explained the lingering reek of foul water and why his clothes were soaking wet.
A shiver ran through him.
Soaking wet on a cold October night.
“If you weren’t wearing the safety belt, we cannot be held responsible for what happened,” the man continued, apparently oblivious to Jason’s shaking body.
“That’s fine.” Jason climbed to his feet, noticing for the first time that he was on the miniature dock where people were supposed to exit the swan boats. “I just want to get home and dry off.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Erika asked. She handed him a threadbare blanket that smelled of mildew and cobwebs. She had one wrapped around her shoulders as well, and he guessed he wasn’t the only one who’d fallen in when the boat tipped over.
“Yeah. Let’s get out of here. I think we’ve had enough of this place for one night.”
“Wait, please.” The skeletal figure, who Jason remembered was the carnival barker—they’d seen him announcing shows in the midway when they first entered the grounds—held up a hand. “It’s far too cold for you to walk around soaking wet. You can dry off in my office and I can provide you with fresh clothes. And, of course, I’ll refund your admission price.”
Jason’s first thought was to reject the man’s offer and just leave. After all, the night was ruined, he was freezing, and the whole nightmare—hallucination?—he’d experienced still had him feeling freaked.
“I wouldn’t mind getting out of these,” Erika said, tugging at her dripping shirt.
You’re not the only one who’s wet and cold. Feeling guilty about thinking only of himself, he nodded to the barker.
“Okay, we’ll take you up on that offer. Thanks.”
“And after that, we go to the hospital,” Erika added.
“No way! I’m totally fine. My head hardly hurts,” he said, hoping the intense throbbing in his skull didn’t mean a concussion.
“Wonderful!” The barker clapped his hands, sending sharp spikes of pain through Jason’s head. “Right this way.” He took off at a brisk pace, exiting the Tunnel of Love through a recessed door, his burly assistant close on his heels. With a shrug, Jason took Erika’s hand and they followed the two men.
While they walked, Jason thought about how much fun they’d been having before the accident, how it had been one of the best nights they’d had in a long time, and he found himself wishing they could have finished things on a better note. His weird dream about the castle might not have been real, but it had made one thing clear.
He loved Erika, and he wanted to be with her forever.
The barker’s office turned out to be a small trailer with a hitch so it could be mounted to a truck and hauled to the next stop. By the time they reached it, Jason was shivering nonstop under his blanket and already regretting his decision to stay. A sign over the door read The Proprietor. The barker pushed it open and then beckoned them to enter.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said. “Come inside. I will have someone bring you dry clothes.”
The interior turned out to be nothing like Jason expected. A desk, a kitchenette area and a closet-sized bathroom took up most of the space. A dark curtain in the back separated what Jason assumed was a sleeping area from the rest of the room. No decorations of any kind broke up the clean lines of the furniture or countertops. Even the desk was devoid of papers, pens or other signs of use.
“Please excuse me.” The Proprietor and his scarred assistant stepped outside, shutting the door behind them. A few seconds later, the barker opened the door again. This time, he was alone.
“I’ve sent Molach to fetch clothes. Once you’re changed, you can be on your way, no worse for the wear, I hope.”
“Thank you. We really appreciate—”
The door opened again, cutting Erika off in midsentence. The hulking giant stood there, a pile of clothes and several towels in his arms.
“Excellent!” The Proprietor took the bundle and placed it on the desk. “I’m sure you’ll find everything you need in there. And I’ll leave this for you as well.”
With the exaggerated motions of an experienced showman, the Proprietor waved his hand in a figure eight, dipped it into his pocket and withdrew a single red rose, which he placed on the desk next to the clothes.
“A token of apology for the lady. After all, she didn't finish her ride in the Tunnel of Love, and romance should never be interrupted. Your refunds will be waiting for you at the front gate.”
Before they could say anything, the Proprietor tipped his top hat and backed out of the trailer.
“That is one very strange dude,” Jason said, while pulling off his wet sweatshirt.
“I don’t know who’s scarier, him or the man with the scar.” Erika was already sorting through the pile of clothing and pulling out things that looked to be her size.
Two minutes later, dried off and dressed in T-shirts, sweatshirts and sweatpants with the Carnival of Fear logo printed on them, and with thick socks doing their best to hold back the moisture from their wet shoes, Jason shoved his wallet, keys and ruined phone into his pockets and handed Erika her flower.
“Ready to go home?”
Erika nodded. “Damn straight.”
Something in her voice caused Jason to pause as he reached for the doorknob. “What’s the matter?”
“I was just thinking. That Proprietor guy didn’t even offer us free passes or anything.”
“He’s giving us our money back. And he gave us clothes.”
“That’s not very much in the way of compensation, not when it was his ride that malfunctioned. You’d think he’d be bending over backwards to make sure we don’t want to sue, or call the cops.”
“Hey…” he put his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, “…we didn’t get hurt, and that’s all that matters. It’s probably all he cares about too. This place will be gone tomorrow. Let’s just forget it.”
“I guess.” She still sounded upset.
“Tell you what. On the way home, we’ll stop at the donut shop and I’ll get you the biggest mocha frappé thing they have on the menu.”
Erika gave him a smile that warmed him better than any blanket could. “Make it a hot chocolate and you’ve got a deal.”
“You got it.”
He opened the door and they stepped into a darkness so absolute he couldn’t even see his hand when he held it up against his nose. Behind them, the door closed with a heavy thud, followed by the click of a lock sliding into place. Jason tugged at the knob, but it refused to turn.
“Jason…?” Erika’s voice seemed both far away and right next to him, as if they stood in an empty theater where the acoustics were off in some way. Her grip on his hand tightened to the point of almost being painful.
He opened his mouth to reassure her, but his words changed into a whispered curse when a door opened in front of them, revealing a nightmare come to life.
His nightmare.
“No. It’s not possible.”
“Jason?” Erika turned towards him. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? Everything!” he wanted to shout. Because not fifty feet away from where they stood was the very same castle he’d dreamed about, the one on the island. Professor Osvald’s castle. The same gigantic front doors, the same black, moss-encrusted stone walls, the same windows…
This can’t b
e happening!
Erika tugged at his hand and he realized she was waiting for an answer. Except he had none to give. How could he explain a nightmare come to life? That he’d not only seen the castle before, but he’d been trapped inside it, along with—
Something caught his eye. A spot of color against the dark background of the hulking edifice. A yellow square with red letters, just over the doors—Warlock’s Castle. Enter at your own risk!
What the—? It’s only another attraction?
And just like that, other details became apparent. The wide doorway was simply plywood decorated with cheap metal. The stone walls were actually just wood and Styrofoam painted to look like quarried blocks. The windows were painted as well. Rows of lights on the ground created shadows and overworked fog machines added the finishing touches to the faux-gothic exterior.
With the revelation that the castle was simply part of the carnival, Jason finally understood the reason for his nightmare. At some point, while walking through the grounds, he must have caught a glimpse of the Warlock’s Castle and the memory of it took shape as Osvald’s creepy home in his mind while he was unconscious.
So why couldn’t he remember seeing the castle before? It towered above the other attractions, almost as tall as some of the rides, like the Ferris Wheel (Wheel of Death!) and the roller coaster (Hot Rails to Hell!) whose lights flashed and glowed against the night sky. Surely he’d have noticed it earlier and, having done so, hounded Erika to go inside.
Maybe that bump on my head knocked some memories loose.
More importantly, how had it appeared in front of the Proprietor’s trailer when it wasn’t there before?
You were upset, freezing and still dizzy from hitting your head. Common sense told him it was very possible he’d simply not noticed where they were.
His gut said just the opposite. He hadn’t seen the castle because it hadn’t been there.
“Jason, what the hell is going on?” Erika’s voice sounded more frustrated and confused than frightened. He understood the feeling completely. It was like someone at the carnival was playing tricks on them.
Could that be it? A practical joke? He pictured carnival workers turning the trailer on a swivel so it faced a different direction. It wasn’t far-fetched to imagine they did the same thing to people all the time.
“Somebody’s screwing with us,” he said to Erika. “That barker.”
“But why?”
“Because he’s an asshole. It’s a carnival prank. We can’t leave until we go through there.” He pointed at the Warlock’s Castle.
“I don’t think I want to go in there,” Erika said.
Rather than sharing her fear, Jason simply felt annoyed. It was just a carnival attraction. They’d go inside, see some cheap re-creations of witches stirring their kettles or being burned at the stake, and then they’d be done and out, getting jostled by the crowd and shouting to make themselves heard over the raucous music and the constant cries of the game operators. Any other time, they’d walk away, shaking their heads and joking with each other about how lame the whole thing was and how silly they’d been to be afraid.
Except it wasn’t any other night. He was cold, tired, and his head hurt.
“It looks like we don’t have a choice,” he said. When they got out, he intended to have some serious words with the barker or the manager or whoever was in charge. “C’mon. We’ll zip through and then grab that hot chocolate you wanted.”
“All right.” She didn’t sound convinced, but she didn’t object when he started walking.
Still holding hands, they stepped onto the gravel path that led to the castle. For a split second, Jason’s vision went fuzzy and the carnival seemed to spin around him. Then the fleeting disorientation disappeared. He glanced at Erika, who seemed not to have noticed. She was staring at the castle, looking about as happy as if she’d just lost her wallet.
Good. Jason was glad for her distraction; he didn’t want her worrying about him. He was perfectly capable of doing that himself. Concussion, brain bleed, blood clot…it was probably nothing, but he’d heard of people bumping their heads and then dying later on from hemorrhages. Not the way he wanted to go. He made a mental note to watch for any other symptoms or dizzy spells, and promised himself that if he experienced anything he’d have Erika take him to the emergency room.
“Where is everyone?”
Erika’s voice brought him out of his reverie. He looked around. “What do you mean?”
“There’s nobody here but us.” She gestured with her free hand, indicating the hard-packed ground with its scattered clumps of dead grass. Wide swatches of what was ordinarily an empty field surrounded the castle.
“That’s not possible.” Jason frowned.
“And why is it so quiet?”
Stop asking so many questions and maybe you’ll hear something! The mental shout almost made it to Jason’s lips but he blocked it, taken aback by his own inexplicable anger. Why was he mad at Erika? He took a deep breath, planning on telling her—nicely—that she was letting her imagination get the best of her. After all, just a moment ago the lights of the rides and the sounds of people had…
He stopped. Because Erika was right. The world around them had gone silent and dark. No rock music blaring from speakers mounted over rides, no screams as people whipped around in circles or got turned upside down on the Alpine Slide or Space Capsule, no whining children begging their parents for dollars. The only lights in the sky were a sprinkling of stars, and the only smells in the air were the earthy scents of dirt and grass scuffed and flattened by thousands of footsteps.
It was just the two of them and the Warlock’s Castle.
“Something must have happened,” he said, unaware he’d spoken aloud until Erika answered him.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. A power failure?”
She shook her head. “The lights in front of the castle are still on. And we’d hear people. Talking. Shouting.”
He nodded. She was right. There’d be people calling out for the lights to get turned on, people screaming for help from the tops of the Ferris wheel or the other rides… Instead, there was just dead silence. Not even crickets or night birds chirping.
“Let’s go back,” Erika said, and this time Jason felt no embarrassment in agreeing. They turned around.
And found themselves staring at an empty field that stretched on for as far as they could see until it disappeared into the blackness of the night.
From the depths of that darkness, a long, drawn-out howl broke the silence. A heartbeat later, several others answered it.
Hands grabbed Jason’s arm and he jumped before he realized it was only Erika.
“Oh God…where’s the carnival?”
He could only shake his head while a feeling of déjà vu swept over him—Erika saying the same thing, only the last time it was while they were fighting their way up a hill on their way to a different castle.
One that looked exactly the same.
Fragments of his other dream—a dream within a dream within a dream?—came to him. Alone in a cemetery surrounded by unseen creatures. Was that going to happen again as well?
“We need to get away from here.” He turned back toward the Warlock’s Castle, pulling Erika with him.
“Jason?” A note of hysteria was creeping into her voice. Just like the last time.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” he said, answering her question before she could ask it. “It’s this carnival. It’s fucked up, and we need to get out. And the only way is through there.” He pointed at the castle as they fast-walked down the gravel path.
It only took them a couple of minutes to reach the castle, but in that time they heard several more of the menacing howls behind them. A dank, cold ground mist sprang up out of nowhere, thicker than anything a fog machine might produce, its clammy tendrils seeping through their shoes and socks and leaving a slimy sensation on their skin.
When they got to
the doors, Jason reached for the handle and then paused.
“What’s the matter?” Erika asked, looking behind them. The fog had nearly reached their waists, and it sounded like the wailing animals were closer.
“The doors.” He rapped his fist on one. It delivered the solid thunk of thick hardwood. “They’re not plywood. And the walls are real stone,” he added, running his hands over one.
A low growl, filled with promises of violence and blood, came from not far down the path. Jason glanced over his shoulder and saw the mist swirling in random eddies just beyond the glow from one of the now-muted walkway lights.
No longer caring about the inexplicable change in the construction of the castle, he pushed the door open and pulled Erika inside, then shut it and dropped the metal latch into place.
And was struck with another episode of déjà vu.
Flickering torches set into the walls revealed a foyer that was as familiar to him as his own front porch. In his dream, he’d been in the very same passageway when they entered Osvald’s castle.
A heavy body hit the outside of the door hard enough to shake it on its hinges. Erika let out a scream and jumped forward. On the other side of the thick wood, something growled and snorted.
“C’mon. We have to get out of here.” He grabbed one of the torches from its metal holder and started through the foyer. With only one tiny latch on the door, whatever was outside might very well break through, and he had no desire to see what it was.
“How do you know where you’re going?” Erika asked when Jason led the way past two alcoves he remembered as being empty and headed straight for the great room.
“I’ve been here before,” he said, ignoring her puzzled response while he guided them through the giant room, his torch thrust forward to ward off the encroaching darkness. Only a few sconces guttered in random locations along the walls, casting just enough light to turn the room from black to gray. Unlike the last time he’d seen it, it was empty of furniture. Cobwebs and dust covered every ledge, nestled in every corner.