The Carnie-Original

Matthew Makes the First Call

Matthew, a small town detective sits on his desk writing in his journal. May 21st, 1987. It's been 3 weeks since the last body was discovered near the canal by the creek. It's all connected somehow I just can't place it for some reason. All the bodies were near the same place, disappearances happened near the creek and by the old abandoned carnival tent. It was a single abandoned tent left by a traveling roadside attraction in the 50s, long abandoned, and long forsaken to isolation. Today was a day like any other even with a murdered child, these days it just seems like it was normal to see a dead child laying near that creek. I know it's so horrible to say, but I don't mind seeing dead kids again. It lessens the burden of not knowing what's coming. However horrible it may be it still isn't as bad as what could happen. Maybe an explosion near a school or near an office building like the police station or post office. Anything would seem better than those options if those were really your only options to choose from. Today was almost like any other day. All of a sudden I inexplicably remember seeing something near the body today by the creek. It was a glittery red leather jacket. That thing was here, it was back alive and killing children again, but was I sure? It was the same jacket that thing wore but I honestly can't be sure. It's been over 20 years since that day came and gone. I honestly don't remember too much but some details always stuck with me. Maybe I should call the others but I want to be absolutely sure without a shadow of a doubt that this thing has come back after so long. I just don't want to waste their time and money on a hunch or a bunch of superstitions that this thing really returned. I'll make up my mind tomorrow, I should sleep on it. Matthew stops writing, puts his pen on his desk next to his notebook, and closes the book itself, sighing as well, relieving some stress and trying to find some clarity within this situation. He looked around at the empty station, it wasn't unusual for it to be empty at 2 am. "Oh shit, I must've lost track of time." He hurriedly grabs his coat and cuts off his desk lamp that still burns his hand every time he touches the switch. The switch itself was too close to the bulb and it heated the switch somehow leaving a burned mark on Matthews hand. It hurt whenever he cut the light off as it always has and as always the pain ceased after only a brief moment. It would be gone in the morning like all the others did as well. Somehow his hand would have burn marks on him at night but the very next morning it was always gone. He could never explain it. After he turns off his lamp he grabs his keys and exits the station. As he enters his car he looks back at the station covered in the moonlight. A full moon, he thought. He gets inside his car and proceeds to drive to his home where a cup of coffee and a bed awaits him. Matthew was never married. He had two girlfriends but it never worked out for him, no matter how hard he tried to make it work. When he gets in his house he flicks the light switch on and the kitchen next to the front door lights up and the once darkened, empty house now filled with light. Matthew throws his coat over the chair directly next to the front door. He walks over to the counter and pulls out coffee grounds and puts it inside the coffee pot then he turns it on much to his fatigue. He could feel it. The fatigue was weighing harder and harder on him each and every day that passed. Especially recently with the child killings and all. It all weighed heavy on his heart and on his mind as well. He couldn't really stomach those crime scenes of children being ripped apart, limbs missing, faces torn to shreds, and...and...That jacket, he thought as the coffee was finished being made. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind for now and poured a cup of coffee. He giggled a little looking into the cup that held the steaming coffee. Man, the fantastical eight. What a group of youngsters we really were. And trouble makers too, especially Timothy. He once again pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he finished his coffee and headed for bed. Coffee had a strange effect on Matthew, it made him more tired, that's why he always drank it before bed. Matthew takes his clothes off and gets between the sheets of his bed and falls quickly to sleep. Matthew wanted to sleep on calling his friends back to this place, back to their home, back to fight that thing once again. The heat from the room made it a little difficult to sleep but he did what he usually does and turned on his side where the fatigue quickly enveloped him and sleep came. He expected to have a nasty dream as he sometimes does when he works so late at night, but what he didn't expect that night was to have a nightmare about that thing that lived in that old abandoned carnival tent. He would recall the next morning in great detail as he wrote in his journal what exactly he dreamt about. I was running, he wrote, running slowly like I was stuck in quicksand. I saw my friends, all of them, getting together and hugging and in that circle I saw myself as a kid again. Then I heard something in the distance and out of nowhere the old abandoned carnival tent appeared out of nowhere in front of my eyes. I didn't even have time to think as something was moving inside that tent. It was that thing. It crawled out of the tent and towards my friends and my child self. I tried to scream but no sound came out even when I thought I screamed so hard that my veins would've popped out. I was wondering why I couldn't talk, couldn't scream when I touched my throat only to realize it had been cut. Slashed through perfectly where my vocal chords were. I tried to cry only to realize I couldn't. I hesitantly touched the holes where my eyes should be...but how? I thought, how could I see when I had no eyes? I looked up to where my friends were and still are. We're still huddled up in a circle, holding hands and believing in each other. I had long forgotten that feeling from long ago but it was back, back so fast it hit me like a tidal wave from a tsunami. A high grade tsunami. I fell on my knees trying to figure out what's going on but I had no time to do that...that-that thing was coming ever so closer to them...to us. I gathered my legs which suddenly felt weak and clumsy like I was semi-paralyzed from the waist down. I gathered strength anyways, even with my fear taking control, I couldn't let that thing harm my friends...harm US. I fell back down on one knee completely afraid of what that thing will do to my friends. In a final attempt I gathered up all the strength of mine to get off my knee and back on my feet. It was closer to them now. Closer to the US. Again I tried screaming for them, for Us, to turn around and see that creature behind them. "I-" I tried to get the words out of my mouth, scream them out if possible, but I could only barely whisper. I started gasping for air as I felt my throat clench. I fell down on my knee again, agony filled my heart as that thing inched ever closer to my friends, to Us. In a last ditch effort I pulled off the ground again and started sprinting towards my friends, but the closer I got the more father they moved. It was like I was making no progress whatsoever yet I couldn't stop. After a few fleeting moments I realized something. I wasn't sprinting. At least not at the potential speed I could go...it was like I was running in the air. I looked down and the ground was far beneath me. How? I was levitating? No. I wasn't levitating more like I was running up. Like I was running towards the sky rather than my friends. Rather than Us. I...I...I wanted to run so fast towards them. Towards Us but my feet wouldn't, no couldn't move faster no matter how hard I tried or even wanted to. Needed to. It was like I was running in quicksand. The more I struggled and tried to run the slower I got. What was happening to me, I thought. I kept trying. It didn't matter if I would never make it I just wanted to embrace them, be embraced by them, be shielded from that evil being that only god knows where that thing possibly came from, and I wanted...I...I wanted to go back. Back to that summer of 1968. I was so tired. So tired from running in the air. My legs finally gave out and I fell. Hard. I hit the ground suddenly and forcefully with enough distance to kill a dinosaur, but somehow I remained conscious. I looked up at my friends, at Us, and I once again tried to call out to them and to my surprise they looked at me. Oh god I finally did it, I thought, I finally reached them and now they can help me...help Us. I looked at Benjamin or who we would frequently call Benny as kids. I looked at him for advice and to help me. However the words never came out and I was left there as each one walked away one by one. I desperately crawled towards them to seek guidance from Benny but all I could see was fear and sadness in his eyes. He was afraid of...me. I was looking for his help and he looked at me like I was the boogeyman coming from inside his closet or underneath his bed. I crawled more towards him grabbing one of his pants legs and tried pulling up but to my surprise he swatted my hand away and I collapsed on the ground. I could only helplessly watch as they all walked on and disappeared in front of my eyes. I wanted to sob so desperately but I couldn't find the tears. Then. "Hello...Matthew." I knew that voice and it could only be one thing, one utterly evil and vile thing. "Aww come on Matthew can't you find your voice? Look, your friends are all walking away. Why don't you call them?" I tried to look at him but my head couldn't turn. I already knew what he was doing. He was grinning, not laughing at my suffering. I couldn't see him yet I still moved my eyes rapidly to try to see it out of the corner of my eye but all I could see was his black as night shoes and his black pants but I knew what was up beyond those pants, I knew what was beyond his white undershirt and red glitter jacket,