Tales of Gloomsdale #4: The Horror of the Big Top

Chapter Four

I let out a gasp as the knife landed right in the middle of the target, embedding the face as easily as the wood. But there were no screams, no blood or even the slightest gasp. I thought the person was already unconscious at first, but then I relaxed slightly as I realized it was just a mannequin.

I jumped as the knife thrower turned her head, noticing me for the first time. She was pretty, with brown skin and long, dark hair tied back in a ponytail, but there was a fierce look in her dark eyes. She assessed me like she carefully observed the dartboard while aiming the knives, which reminded me uncomfortably of the clown that had been chasing me.

I jumped as she spoke. "Hey, kid. What are you doing here?"

"Uh..." I backed away.

"Oh, right. You're here to check out our acts, just like all the others," she realized. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but my partner is absent at the moment. He's such a coward. Can't handle anything to do with knife throwing. But the mannequin makes good practice."

I trailed my gaze to the mannequin, feeling slightly relieved at the casual tone of her voice. She didn't seem like a nutcase, unlike that clown. "Isn't it a little dangerous? I mean, it's so dark in here."

She walked over to one of the windows and pulled down the blinds. I blinked as light poured into the room. The caravan was nicer than I expected, with a shiny wooden floor covered with a red carpet, a closet and a double bed against one of the walls. I couldn't help staring, wondering why she needed such a large bed. The kitchen behind the dartboard had a sink and microwave, and the knives embedded into the board looked like ordinary kitchen knives from the cupboards. Even though it was just a mannequin, I shuddered at the sight of the stuffing pouring out from the face the knife had been thrown into.

"Not too dangerous," she assured. "I've been doing this for ages. Actually, I closed the windows to give myself a challenge. I'm gotten pretty good at this, if I do say so, even with regular knives instead of throwing knives. Unfortunately, the ringmaster won't let me have my throwing knives here."

"Well, you are," I admitted, both terrified and impressed by her talent. "Even if..." I winced at the sight of the board.

"Well, thanks." She chuckled. "Actually, I hit the mannequin on purpose as well. I got bored aiming at the board, and I was getting frustrated that my partner's too much of a wimp to join me, so I pretended the mannequin was him. Uh, that doesn't sound too good, does it?"

"Do... do you usually practice with a person?" I asked nervously.

"Of course not. I usually perform with a person," she said, causing me to wince. "It isn't very entertaining for the audience to watch a mannequin get fired at."

"Well, it was for me," I admitted, stalling having to leave. The last thing I wanted was to run into that clown again. "I actually thought it was a person at first."

"I'm glad you enjoyed the show," she said. "I'm Rosetta. Hey, kid, what's your name?"

"Kyle," I replied, deciding she seemed friendly enough. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude."

"Oh, you didn't," Rosetta assured, walking over to take out the knives embedded into the dartboard. "I like having an audience. But why did you choose my caravan?"

"I, uh... I was kind of trying to hide," I admitted.

"Oh, I see. So you're being chased?" Rosetta asked while pulling the knife out from the mannequin's face. I nodded. "Well, stay here as long as you want. Just not too long. I wouldn't want to make you my target."

I laughed weakly, thinking she wasn't being serious. Then I winced as she pointed the knife directly at me, before smiling teasingly and pointing the blade away. "Very funny," I replied sarcastically.