Cirque

8: 𝑬𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔

The ringleader took two steps forward, and each step felt like he was walking closer to me. Without warning, an explosion of doves and ravens burst out of the ground, surrounding him like a tornado in a giant spiral of feathers. "I am the ringleader, Le Meneur, of the Cirque de la Mort!" His magnetic voice broke out of the chaos. "Tonight we invite you to be possessed by our show: Fins et Débuts, Ends and Beginnings. And do remember..."

The birds scattered to all corners of the tent in a flurry of wingbeats, exposing Le Meneur who was now lounging on an elegant black couch, as if he were a king overlooking his court. He lazily turned his head until once more, his eyes met mine. He placed a singular finger over his lips. "...I can't promise you'll be able to leave."

I felt a shiver run through me and I leaned forward.

"Cass, maybe we-"

"Shhh!" I cut Carlos off, my eyes fixated on the ringleader's frustratingly perfect smile. "It's starting." The lights cut out once more, but I had the indescribable feeling that Le Meneur was still there, watching me with his hidden eyes.

"Laugh," his voice rang out of the shadows, "or cry. In the end, they're the same thing."

The lights came on again so suddenly I nearly jumped out of my seat with surprise. The empty stage was cast in dizzyingly swirling lights of all colors: aquamarine, crimson, amber, pink and purple. Mountains of giant green rubber balls bounced around like they were being juggled by an invisible hand. A giant stack of precariously balanced bouncing balls was in the center of the stage, and somehow, impossibly, a man lay on top.

I recognized him instantly. Karl the Komiker. And, from the playful look dancing in his eyes as he turned to face the crowd, he noticed me instantly as well. He sat up, dangling his legs as the stack of balls swayed dangerously below him. "Once, when I was young," he began, giving me a slight smile. "My pappa came home to find me standing in front of a roaring fire. This made him very angry with me. You see..." He paused, and winked right at me. "We didn't have a fireplace." The crowd burst into loud and crazed laughter, and I found myself joining in.

With a hiss, a fire ignited below him, covering the stage with an actual inferno, the balls continuing to bounce like sizzling coals. If Karl leaned the wrong way, he would fall down and burn to death.

The laughter turned into gasps of shock. My heart beat wildly in my chest. Karl jumped to his feet in fake shock, his green silk coat slipping from his shoulders, leaving him only in a white shirt, rolled up to reveal his muscled arms. "Ah, there goes my coat," he watched it fall mournfully. "I suppose now we'll have to call it a blazer!"

The crowd burst into laughter once more. It was beginning to grow very hot, but people were laughing so hard they didn't even notice.

I remembered Le Meneur's warning.

Just as I thought his name, a spotlight shot up to the ceiling and illuminated him, hanging from a golden rope high above the roaring flames. He had discarded his hat, exposing his messy ivory-colored hair. Instead of a cane, he held an old-fashioned revolver in his hand.

"I want you," he glanced at me, that smile still on his face.

He wanted me? Why did that make my heart skip a beat?

"...to decide," he clarified, clearly enjoying the disappointment that washed over my face before I could stop it. "Shall I shoot this comedian, or should we burn? There is no third option. This is, after all, the Cirque de la Mort....The Circus of Death."

I gasped, that familiar fear beginning to creep back into me. The crowd was laughing and chanting: "Shoot him! Shoot him!" I realized, as I watched the fire growing and growing and Le Meneur drawing back his gun at Karl's garish red-painted smile, that this carnival really was the same carnival from my nightmarish vision. This place was dangerous. I knew I should leave, but I couldn't look away from the morbid pantomime.