by Amy Cross
"Relax and be a prisoner," I say, turning to her.
She smiles. "We're all prisoners, darling. Wherever we are, whoever we're with, we're all prisoners of someone. At least here we get fed and looked after."
"Sounds like a good deal," I say. "All you have to do is give up any thought of ever being free again."
"That's not true," Darla says. "If you win the support of the audience, you're free to go."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"The audience," she replies. "If the audience chooses for you to be released, you'll be released. It's the only way."
I think about this for a moment. "So it's like a popularity contest? Or a vote? If you please the audience, they say you have to be released."
Darla nods. "The audience has ultimate power around here. Without the audience, there'd be no money to keep the show on the road. Grinde knows he has to please the audience." She points at the workers as they continue to build the stage. "Why do you think he's got 'em all working so hard? The audience reaction has been disappointing over the last couple of days, and Grinde knows he has to buck his ideas up and find something more... spectacular."
"So we're going to be the stars of the show, huh?" I say, sighing.
"Oh no, darling," says Darla. "We're the support act. Just the support act. Always have been, always will be. The main act's in there."
She indicates the large tent on the other side of the clearing, the one where that worker was killed earlier today.
"What's in there?" I ask.
"You'll see tonight," Darla says.
"I want to see now."
"You can't," Darla continues. "You just have to be patient."
I sulk for a moment, staring at the 'forbidden' tent. "The fuck I do," I say finally, getting to my feet.
"Don't do anything stupid," says Darla. "Not again."
"Don't worry about me," I say. "I can take care of myself."
Without waiting for Darla's next attempt to stop me, I march across the clearing.
"Hey, Jess," says Joe as I walk past him.
"Drop dead," I say, keeping my eyes focused on the tent ahead. As I reach it, I glance back and see that the only person watching me is Darla. She looks concerned and a little frightened. But there's no point living in fear, is there? Taking a deep breath, I walk into the tent.
At first, it's hard to see anything. This tent is much darker than the others, and noticeably emptier. Gradually my eyes adjust to the low light level. It also seems to be colder in here, and I make my way carefully into the main section, which is large under the domed roof. There's a strange sound, a kind of mechanical hissing, and in the center of the tent there's what seems to be a large raised water tank which casts rippling dark blue light all around. As I approach the tank, I hear what sounds like something moving in the water. I stop at the bottom of the steps, wondering whether it's safe to go up.
"Who's there?" calls out a voice, a female voice. I look around, but then I realize that the voice is coming from inside the water tank. "I know there's someone there," the voice continues. "I can hear you breathing."
I turn, thinking I should go. But something keeps me rooted to the ground. I look back up at the top of the tank, unable to stop wondering what exactly is in there. It's so dark and cold in this tent, why would anyone be kept here?
"It's okay," the voice says. She sounds young, maybe my age, and sad. "I understand why you don't want to come up. Don't worry, I'm not offended."
I pause, wondering what to do. I still have time to get out of here, to just turn and leave the tent. But whatever's up in that water tank, it's something that seems to strike fear into the hearts of all the men around here, even Vigrous Grinde himself. If I want to get out of here, I need to find out what's really going on.
"Hi," I call out. "My name's Jess."
There's a pause, and I hear something splashing gently in the tank. "Hi, Jess," says the female voice eventually. "Are you new here?"
"Yeah," I say. I look around, making sure that there's no-one else in the tent. "But I won't be here for long."
"That's good," says the female voice. "You shouldn't be here. No-one should."
I walk back toward the steps, but as I get there I notice a patch of blood on the ground. Great, someone obviously didn't clean up properly after the little incident earlier. I take a deep breath and look at a small sign fixed to the side of the tank:
CAUTION
Do not enter the water
Do not speak to the creature
Do not obey the creature
Do not touch the creature
Do not believe the creature
Well, I've already ignored the rule about not speaking to the creature, and I have no intention of entering the water or obeying anyone. I guess I might as well go up and at least see this thing face to face. She sounds nice enough, although I've learned not to judge a book by its cover. I'll stay smart, and I'll keep my guard up.
I climb the steps and soon I'm near the top of the tank. Taking one more deep breath, I go all the way up. At first it's hard to make out exactly what I'm looking at. The water tank itself is about ten meters by ten meters, and there are eerie green and blue lights shining under the water. There's a railing all the way around the edge, though it doesn't look very strong. Near the top of the steps, there's a box with the word 'Feed' written on the top.
"Hello, Jess," says the female voice.
I scan the water, looking for the creature, and then I see it moving gently toward the edge by my feet. At first, it's almost impossible to believe what I'm seeing. I put both my hands on the railing, to keep myself steady. In the water, smiling up at me, looking calm and peaceful and beautiful, is a real, live, actual mermaid. She has medium-length dark hair and the biggest, most beautiful brown eyes you can imagine, and a stunning smile. She's naked from the waist up, and her large, wet, round breasts glisten in the low light. I can see that beneath the surface of the water she has a long tail with a flat fin at the end. She uses her arms to support herself at the edge of the tank, and she looks up at me.
"Have you never seen a mermaid before?" she asks.
I shake my head. I've seen werewolves, I've seen all sorts of stuff recently, but this really, really takes my breath away. It's like I'm in some kind of HR Giger fairytale.
"It's okay," she says. "I'm used to this reaction. My name is Mena." She reaches out a hand for me to shake, but she sees that I'm cautious and she smiles. "It's okay," she says, her arm still outstretched. "You can shake my hand. I won't bite."
I look at the hand, and I remember that the sign said not to touch the 'creature', and I remember the ripped skin of that worker earlier.
"Okay," Mena says, putting her arm back down. "I understand. You're right to be cautious around here. Almost everyone is dangerous in some way." She fixes me with a stare. "I just want you to know, I was only going to shake your hand. I wouldn't have done anything to you. Look at me. Do you really think I could hurt anyone?"
"No," I say quietly, trying to be polite. But the truth is, I really wouldn't fancy being in that water with her. There's something about her, she's so beautiful and so friendly, it's slightly suspicious. "I'm sorry," I say, "I just never expected to meet a real, actual mermaid."
"Certainly not in a carnival in the south of England," she says.
"Not anywhere," I say. "It's like... I didn't think you existed."
"That's ironic," she says, grinning, "coming from a werewolf."
"Hey," I say, "I'm not a -" but then I pause and realize she's right. "Fair point," I continue. "But still, next you'll be telling me that vampires and fairies and goblins are real."
"Well," says Mena, smiling. "I don't know about fairies, but I've met a few goblins. And don't talk to me about vampires. There's only one left in the whole world now. The rest of them died, and there's just one. He's so lonely, but he's a real heart-breaker. His name's Patrick, I haven't seen him for years. Let's just say..." She smiles. "Let's just say he wa
sn't afraid to get into my tank with me."
"Okay," I say, struggling to take everything in. "How the fuck did you end up here?"
She frowns. "Would you mind not swearing?" she asks. "I'm an old-fashioned kind of girl."
I nod. "Sorry."
She smiles again. "I imagine I came here the same way that you did. I was captured by Vigrous Grinde. He heard I was to be found off the coast of Ireland, and he sent ships with huge nets to trawl for me." Her smile fades as she seems to be remembering something traumatic. "He caught and killed so many fish, so many other creatures, but he didn't care. All he wanted was me. And finally I knew that he wouldn't stop killing until he had me. So, to save all the other creatures in the ocean, I swam into his nets." She gives a fake little smile. "And I've been here ever since."
"He's a monster," I say.
"You've got that right," she replies, briefly raising the tip of her tail out of the water before splashing it down, spraying me with water. She laughs. "Sorry," she says, barely able to contain her amusement. "I don't get much fun around here."
"It's okay," I say, wiping myself down. I'm not very wet anyway.
"Vigrous Grinde says such awful things about me," Mena continues. "He tells people I'm evil, that I'm a killer, that I'm dangerous, because he wants them to fear me. He wants the audience to keep paying to see me, so he needs me to have a reputation. It's okay, I understand why he does it, but it makes me very lonely."
"I saw a man earlier," I say. "He was bleeding to death outside after he'd been in here with you."
"No," Mena says, shaking her head, looking upset. "I didn't hurt him. I've never hurt anyone. Grinde kills the men and tells the others that it was me. It's part of his plan to make me seem like a monster. The truth is, I would dearly love to have someone to talk to, but everyone's so scared to come up here. The men just throw my food into the water and scurry away. You're the first person I've talked to properly for many, many years."
"Sorry," I say, still not sure whether I believe her.
"Don't be," she replies. "You're right to be cautious. You're right to be careful around here. There are such creatures in this carnival. Werewolves and goblins and Grandapams and Tenderlings. And me." She looks sad now, as if her own heart is breaking. "If I had legs, like you have, I'd run. I'd run as far as possible, and I wouldn't stop running until I was sure that Vigrous Grinde could never catch me again."
"It's not that easy," I say. "He's put something in me. If I try to run, it hurts."
"In your neck?" she asks, suddenly seeming very interested. "I've seen those before. They're horrible, but they can be removed. Have you tried?"
"I can't... No," I say. "How do you get them out?"
"You just have to cut and then twist them out. I can..." She pauses, seemingly uncomfortable for a moment. "I know how to do it, but you'd have to come closer. I promise I can get it out, though. I've done it before. For another werewolf who was here, I helped him escape. He said he'd come back for me, but he never did."
"What was his name?" I ask. "Was it Duncan?"
"No," she says, "His name was Hamish. But I did meet a werewolf named Duncan once. A beautiful, proud creature who was on his way to London. He and Hamish and Patrick were friends for a while. Do you know Duncan?"
"Yeah," I say. "Well, I did. He vanished, I don't know where he is now."
"Did he escape from his master?" Mena asks.
"His master?" I suddenly remember all those times that Duncan spoke about having a master, about not being free. Is it possible that the reason he didn't come to find me is something to do with his master? If it is, I have to go back to London and find them, I have to set Duncan free forever.
"I know you don't trust me," Mena says. "But I promise you, just come closer and I can get that thing out of your neck. It'll hurt a little, but..." She leans back, arching her back a little to make her breasts more prominent. "I have ways to help the pain go away."
I desperately need to get this implant out of my neck. I can't get away from this place while it's still there. But I still don't quite trust Mena. I feel so bad saying that, because she seems so nice. But I know that I can't trust anyone around here, and I have to keep my guard up.
"I understand," Mena says softly. "But if you ever change your mind, you know where I am."
I nod. "I should be getting back to my tent," I say. "I need to come up with a plan."
"Good luck," Mena says. "Thank you so much for coming to see me. You're very, very beautiful. Very beautiful indeed. If you'd ever like to come for a swim, I'm always here."
"Thanks," I say, heading to the steps.
"See you tonight," Mena says.
"Tonight?" I ask, stopping and turning to her.
"Of course," she says, smiling. "There's a show tonight. There's a show every night. The audience will be waiting. I can't wait to see you in action in the main ring for the first time. I'm sure the audience will love you."
"I'm not going to be in any show," I say firmly.
"Oh," she says, looking a little sad. "You have no choice. Unless you let me take that implant out of your neck, so that you can run away."
I pause for a moment, trying to work out what to do. "I'll come back and see you again," I say, and then I run down the steps. At the bottom, I stop and look at the sign again:
CAUTION
Do not enter the water
Do not speak to the creature
Do not obey the creature
Do not touch the creature
Do not believe the creature
Well, at least I only broke one, maybe two, of those rules. I look down at the patch of blood again. The crazy thing is, I have no idea who I can trust around here. I head out of the tent. I have to find a way out of this whole damn place, and I have to do it without risking becoming lunch for a hungry mermaid. Not that I'm convinced that Mena is dangerous, she seemed nice, but I can't trust anyone around here. I have to go to London, and I have to find Duncan, and I have to set him free. If he's still alive...
Duncan
I'm hanging by just one arm now. At least the bleeding from my right shoulder has stopped, though my naked body is caked in blood.
Jess
As night falls, the workers finish the stage and start to pack up their tools. Food is brought in for the werewolves, but while the others fall gratefully onto the bones that have been thrown down for them, I stay sitting in the corner. I refuse to be turned into an animal, even if it means I have to go hungry. Besides, this time tomorrow I'll be out of here. I'm not sure how, yet, but I'll find a way.
"It's good food," Darla says, looking up at me as she chews on her bone.
"What appeals to the audience?" I ask, ignoring her comment. "What makes the audience decide to send you home?"
"No idea," says Darla. "The audience can't be second-guessed. It's a matter of luck, and maybe showing a little courage."
"It can't be luck," I say. "There's got to be a pattern. How many people have been saved by the audience before?"
"One," says Darla, but at the exact same moment Stephen, who is chewing a bone nearby, laughs. "What's so funny?" Darla asks.
"You know no-one's ever been saved," he says. "Getting picked by the audience gets you out of here, sure, but do you really think it gets you set free? What do you think the audience wants with us in the first place?"
"Grinde wouldn't lie to us," Darla says.
"Sure," I interrupt. "He's kidnap you, torture you, keep you prisoner and put implants in your neck. But he'd never lie to you, would he?"
Darla clears her throat. She doesn't seem too impressed by me right now. "I'm sensing a lack of trust," she says. "Do you not like Grinde?"
"We got off on the wrong foot," I say. "He killed my friend."
"Grinde doesn't kill people," Darla says.
"No? He had my friend Lacey killed when I was captured. And what about Mena and the men who keep dying?"
"What about it?" Darla asks, looking worried.
I smile. "Do you really think a mermaid is killing all those men? Or do you think maybe someone just wants us to believe that?"
Darla grins. "You don't know anything about Mena. Sure, she looks cute. But she's deadly. She talks a good game, but when it comes down to it, she's like a piranha. She can skin the flesh off a man in seconds."
"Maybe," I say.
"Definitely," she replies. "I've seen it." She stares at me. "I'm deadly serious, Jess. Don't be fooled by her. Don't believe her for one second. I've seen people get deceived by her words, and they all end up dead. Grinde keeps her isolated for a reason." She puts a hand on my shoulder. "Promise me you won't let Mena trick you."
"I guess," I say. I pause for a moment. "But she says she can get these off," I say, touching the implant on the back of my neck.
"Bullshit," says Darla.
"No," I say. "She says she can do it. She says she did it before, for someone else, and he escaped. She said -"
"Total bullshit," Darla says, sounding angry. "No-one has ever escaped. If Mena said that, it's just because she wants to get you close enough so she can strike. She's smart. She knows what you want, and she offers it to you. But the fucking price is too high, okay, darling? Please. I'd hate to see your pretty corpse dragged out of there, all your skin hanging from your bones like threads."
I shake my head. "There's got to be a way out of here," I say. "There's got to be a way to get these implants out and just... run."
Darla sighs, then she pulls up her trouser leg to reveal a huge scar on her leg, where it looks like large chunks of flesh were gouged away. "Mena did this to me," she says. "Touch it."
I stare at the scar.
"Touch it," Darla says, grabbing my hand and forcing me to touch the scar. "I was sent in to throw some food in to Mena. Oh, sure, she was acting all innocent and sweet, and I got persuaded, see? I stood too close to the edge, and suddenly she lashed out. I was lucky, I managed to pull back. I almost bled to death, but someone heard and came to rescue me." She pulls her trouser leg back down. "So I know all about how persuasive Mena can be. My advice to you, though, is to make sure you don't make the same mistake that I made. If you do, you might not escape with just a scar on your leg."