Oddyseñia: Terrene of the Freaks [ On Hold ]

Chapter 2: Freaks' Revelation

Minho POV:

My ears stung at the ear-bleeding adenoidal voice which addressed me as a puppet. Squinting my eyes to adjust to the dazzle, I tried to spot the audacious flesh who dared to degrade me. However, my endeavours went futile. Nothing could be seen beyond the stage I was trapped in because of the blinding flashes casted on me, only.

Moreover, my wrist were bound on top of both of the sides of my head and legs were spread apart, ankles tied up as well.

I balled my fists to quell the fuming rage boiling in my mind. "Where are you hiding, fuckface? If you got guts then show your face to me," I spat at the camouflaged figure, challenging them to expose themselves.

In response to my outburst, maniacal laughter filled the place. And, a figure stepped into the light. It was a woman, unusually fat, almost resembling a balloon. Her two toned green and blue hair aligned with her black panda eye makeup and joker mimic red lips made her seem like a failed clown cosplayer.

Anyone could mistaken her as a comedic cartoon if a metal bat with sharp silver spikes adorned on top half of it weren't in her grasp.

She got on the circular, wooden stage and approached me with steady steps. The nail points of the spikes harshly grazed against the wood, resulting in screeching excruciatingly.

She now stood before me. Her sinister gaze met my hardened ones. A shit eating grin plastered on her bloody lips.

She leaned her face towards mine. Her corn tinted orbs leering at my miraculous ones. I cocked an eyebrow at her and in response, she widened her grin more, if possible.

"You wanted to see my fuckface, here I am. Do anything you want now, lad. Oops, my bad. You got no limbs huh!" with that, she roared of mirth, the people there following after her.

I gritted my jaw at their constant humiliation. My pulse increasing rapidly. I growled at her, "What the fuck do you want, clown?"

She abruptly stopped her howl and morphed her expression in a millisecond from a giggling bitch to a hair-raising clown.

Her gaze darkened to the point of beating even the ink painted on her eyelids. She stepped towards me too close to my liking. She blankly stared at my orbs. My heart beating more abnormally than I would like to admit, because of her lengthy, death stare.

The people beyond the stage was as silent as the grave, to boot. No one made a single noise while she kept leering at me. I held my breath in anticipation, expecting a smack or punch.

And out of nowhere, she grabbed my jaw so hard that my teeth almost broke. She leaned onwards until she was an inch away from my face, "I want to make the last remaining of your life so tormenting until the autarchs butcher you that you will have no wish to live any longer," her nasal voice seemed to never existed, her voice was menacingly low this time.