Enter The Circus ( A VivziePop Inspired Story )

Penance

He ran through the red corridors with great haste. He felt the clanking of the ceiling follow him like a prowler. Those same creatures crawled on the bars and pounced around like wild monkeys. His heart thumped more and more with each corner he crossed. The rooms were seemingly infinite, an unpredictable pattern that stopped and started without any consistency. It was a maze of madness that closed in on him. With each door he found, he attempted to make it budge. He continued this process to no avail. Each door, no matter how big or small, simply clanked with a lock. It was as though the exit had completely vanished, until he finally crossed one that could be opened. He turned the knob and shut the door behind him, slumping down against the door.

He thought to himself, scrambling for answers. Was that giant creature their master? What horrible punishment would he enact should his minions disobey? His minions...how could he have missed?! Their pointy, arrow shaped tails dropped between their legs were that of a devil's, and their horns were disguised with those jester hats. They were not workers, but rather slaves. The wonder had blinded him from the reality of this twisted funhouse.

"Were those...demons?! No, they can't be. I've been good, I've repented! Something must have gone wrong, the spell must have been botched. Oh, Tracy...please pull me out..."

Jefferson cackled to himself in a state of denial. All the people he had helped, the things he had sacrificed for forgiveness. Was his sin truly unforgivable? He thought to himself as his cries of laughter turned to ones of utter doom. He knew he could not sit there forever, so neglecting his own state of mind, he treaded forward. The room he was in held many types of machinery. Corks, springs, and cogs big enough for a giant clock, were spread around the hay. As well as bear traps set up to snap should even a twig fall on them. He had to watch his step, as any of those jaws of steel might penetrate him. But the machines did not seem like simple industrial tools, but rather fit with blades and bolts that could chop meat with ease. They were sharpened right to the tip. Saws, drills, knives, racks and chains that evoked sinister purposes. He stood back from the twisted tools of the room, growing more intimidated by the chamber of death. He could feel his heart pound at the possibilities that could be done with those tools. The screams, the pleads for mercy, the blood started to manifest in his head. His fingers gripped and dug into his hairs. After all the attempts to make up for that one past mistake, it returned to haunt him once more. For his prayers for redemption were seemingly not enough. This circus of madness was to be his prison. He could not take any more of this!

"Oh, God, what else should I do to be forgiven!"

In a fit of frustration, he kicked against a crate full of nuts and bolts, causing them to roll and spill everywhere. A sudden snap shrieked inside the room. Then another, and yet another, each beartrap bouncing up across the hay with metallic screeches. He did a shushing gesture, to no avail. It seems that it had startled someone. The voice of their master creeped behind the door.

"Who is making noise in there?!"

Their master yelled out into the corridors. Jefferson was paralyzed, trapped in the chamber of torture and agony. He felt the thumping footsteps of their master get closer as he navigated the halls with ease. Without hesitation, the human intruder grabbed one of the rusty hand saws and began to cut through the frail wooden walls. He pushed and pulled the blade in rhythm with their master's heavy footsteps. As their footsteps drew closer and louder, so did he hasten the process of cutting through the wooden planks. They started to collapse, driving him to continue as hope shined through the cracks. He kicked open the wall, crawling through. At that very same moment, the door to the chamber snapped open.

"I told you little shits to clean up the bear traps around here! When I find whoever made this mess, you'll go straight to The Wheel!"

The very mention of that tool caught Jefferson's attention. The thought of what they'd do with it after all the devices he just witnessed. And the idea of its use further spiked his anxiety. Before he made a drastic move, he heard more of the conversation. His paranoia prompted him to listen.

"Hmmm? Someone made that hole? Go on then, tell me who it is!"

His demand was answered with a quiet voice, barely audible. Upon getting an answer, his commanding voice began to chuckle. At first, a light amusement before spiraling into mad laughter. The sudden joy in their master caused Jefferson to grow afraid once again. He did not waste any more time, and so he ran.

He ran and ran, tripping across the hay. The joyful cheerings he heard at first turned twisted and maniacal. The voices began singing a knell of disorder. They mocked him. They mocked his attempts at redemption, in his mind. Slithering shadows continued to crawl around the ceiling bars, prowling above him while he made his escape. Every single door he found along the way proved to be locked shut. Each attempt to open them up further slowed him down. He spiraled into frustration, where would this circus end? He kept asking. He felt their snake-like tails slither closer and closer with every failure to escape, and in a wild rush of adrenaline, his foot slipped into the jaws of a beartrap and his face dropped against a wooden wall.