OUTDATED || Let Me Clarify Before We Begin... | Creature Feature Short Stories

The Stranger

[Disclaimer: This chapter contains a LOT of CF non-canon]

On the streets were boarded up an insane number of companies and activities posters. From one day to another, all of them, without exception, were replaced by the oddly empty poster of a circus. On the blend yellow sky was pumpkins, rotting trees, graves and odd plants of all sorts. It could've been anything, maybe the harvest season promotion, if it wasn't for the skeleton in the middle-down of the picture. In fact, the skeleton with his fancy hat and cane is inviting the passers-by to grab a ticket, pointing just beneath itself, where the tickets had been. Just up to the skeletic figure was another bubble of text, announcing "The Greatest Show Unearthed - Land of Your Greatest Desires" in huge, menacing yet incitating letters. The promotion poster felt odd with it's emptiness and the absence of any description, which is unusual. And the staring eyes of that skeleton. In spite of the strange advertising of the show, even with the insane amount of posters, the tickets ran out as fast as they had appeared in town. Well, they almost did, as the last ticket in town was still attached to it's brochure and nobody seemed to notice the loner ticket waiting to get taken. A stranger, coming from a whole other state did see it, and, wondering why was it the only left, took it with him and went on his way. As the man, who's name was Erik, arrived at the gate of The Greatest Show Unearthed, he could already hear the joyful, maybe also terrified screams coming from inside the park. He looked up at the light sign, which could read the same thing as the posters, minus the second part, which made the new name strangely empty. The Greatest Show Unearthed, simply that. He decided to come in anyways, even if the panelwas old and rusty, even with the paths traced with red-brownish paint that reminds Erik of old, dried blood. No one seem to have entered after him, or will be entering, as the main gate closed behind him as he stepped inside the dark carnival. Barely a few meters in, a tall, lanky man had came to Erik to greet the new visitor. The man was... strange. On their ringmaster outfit there was what assumed to be a print; we could see the insides of a body, at chest level, where the ribs were broken and deeply dug into the heart. The bit of the upper part of their top hat was missing, revealing an odd-placed brain, looking old and decayed already, judging by the color of it. Their dirty blonde hair kind of covered their left eye, though we could clearly see the rot under the poorly conveived protection. And the holes covering their face, too. It can't possibly be makeup, they wouldn't have looked this way, so... misplaced, they're all similar like if it was made by a machine but they follow an irregular path. As well as their left arm, slightly misbending, always too high, too low, too much. Erik noticed that nothing was right about this man, whatever they might say to try to convince him otherwise. He decided to turn and avoid their speech to dive into the rest of the carnival. Despite the sky being a strange sick yellow instead of the natural blue or yellowish orange, nothing except the ringmaster really seems out of the ordinary, it's just a circus -or a carnival?- after all. Everything went just as planned, well as expected from this kind of place, like the fireworks or The Parade Of Dancing Skeletons, which seemed pretty realistic to him. The day was already nearly over, when Erik stumbled on something strange in the funhouse of mirrors. Along multiple reflections of himself in the maze, sometimes distorded, he notices a man, seemingly around his own age. This new stranger is crawled onto the floor, surrounded by a dark fluid that's seemingly blood or a similar subtance, face facing the ground, covering his eyes. As Erik gave a quick glance all around him, maybe to help the man who's reflection seems to be in immense pain, nothing showed up, he was all alone. When he had glanced back at the mysterious reflection, this one was now facing him, with it's blank, expressionless eyes. No, not even eyes, it was empty. A completely blank face on a grey skin, just like a mannequin covered with fake gore. And move. The mannequin is moving by itself and waking. Erik quickly backed away, unaware of the other mirrors behind him, smashing it and himself on the ground, before getting back up as quickly as he could despite the broken shards on his skin. As soon as he had gotten back outside, the dark and stormy night that was then a calm summer day hit him right on the head. And everything had changed along the weather, all the innocent kids were gone, their parents all seem to be new mannequins with their empty faces focused on Erik, ready for the hunt. Except one. The ringmaster, standing just in front of him, as if they had been waiting for him, completely silent and still with a grin printed onto their face as they stare down at the young man. Had they planned all this? The normal day to just reveal it's true colors in the end? No, it just stood there, it's warm breath creating pale smoke in the dead of night. But this... thing, standing high among the other life-filled mannequin had a familiar feeling to it's absent face. Somehow. I felt like I could reconize someone but I can't quite tell who... was it a parent, a comrade? Maybe it could be, but it's hair loosing their pinkish blonde color under the heavy rain -which Erik sadly couldn't quite protect himself or his cloches from- gave it a particular shade of dark brown, with a strike of blonde, almost golden hair falling where it's eyes should've been. Maybe that was what shaped it's face in such a characteristic way, when, in fact, it did not really had one. Only a blank space where there was small sculpted holes for the eyes, a small bump to represent what's seemingly a nose and thin, cruel lips. In spite of the absence of eyes, each of these animated figures could make Erik feel just like if a whole crowd of people, real ones, were staring directly in his eyes whenever he looked at them. He tried focusing his attention on the ringmaster, who, now close enought to do an approximation of it's height, who's definitely at least 6 feet tall. It strangely didn't seem to move when he looked at it, but it surely did move, it came closer. It always did, staring back to Erik with it's cold, stiff eyes and seemingly lifeless body. After staring up at the mannequin's features, for a time he couldn't count, Erik could slowly reconize how familar the 'face' was. It is exactly the same as his dear friend and music partner, Curtis. How could he not reconize him, his such characteristic face and his legendary sideburns, maybe not there on the mannequin? It was still covered in holes and the rot consumming the left side of it's head, under the falling hair had taken more space trought it. Yeah, the sideburns were drawn on with a pen, it looks kind of weird. That's the moment he heard something splashing onto the floor. As he looked down, to discover a bit of "Curtis"' face had been consummed and became simply a mass of rotten wood that couldn't stay up there, he could feel the sharp, wooden hands grasping his shoulders, digging what seems to be nails down his flesh, his shirt being already slightly ripped appart by the shards of broken mirror. As Erik quickly let out a high pitched yeep, the pain in his shoulders and going all the way trought his back was horrendous, not even something you would wish for your greatest ennemy. He could feel all these hands, wood, plastic or rock, digging trought his skin without mercy. When he looked up to the thing pretending to be his friend, all he would see was the growing grin on it's rotten face, falling appart on it's suit and Erik. When they were done with him, a lifeless bunch of skin was all that was left, only his face remained intact for them to collect for the next show.

The next day, The Ringmaster and a friendly and fresh, seemingly tired face was welcoming it's new visitors in the hope anyone would reconize last night's victim as their relative.

[End of The Greatest Show Unearthed.]