Mesmerized, I watch from the sidelines as Honey Blossom takes the stage, beguiling the audience with her eerie ventriloquism. Her dummy, Pickens, moves with an unsettling realism that makes the adults laugh and the children cower in fear. There's something disturbingly perfect about how Honey Blossom brings Pickens to life. I'm beginning to understand why her act follows the lively antics of the Koslov Brothers—there's a darkness here that not everyone can stomach.
A quiet presence appears at my side, and I glance up to find Theo, the Sword Swallower, standing next to me. He's perfectly still, his focus seemingly on Honey Blossom's act, but his body is turned ever so slightly toward me, as though his attention is divided. I tear my gaze away before he catches me staring.
Pickens lets out a ghastly, high-pitched shriek, and several people in the crowd scream in response, their fear palpable in the air.
"That dummy creeps me out," I whisper to Theo, hoping to draw a response from him.
He doesn't speak, of course.
I steal another glance at him, noticing the black ribbon that ties back his dark, shoulder-length hair. His outfit glimmers faintly, the fabric catching the light like swirling galaxies, making him look like something pulled from the stars rather than the earth. It's almost hypnotic.
"You're on after the acrobats?" I ask, hoping to keep the conversation going.
Theo nods and, without a word, holds up his sword. It's thinner than I imagined, the steel gleaming under the lights, but still long enough to make my stomach churn with anxiety.
"That goes in your mouth?" I cringe involuntarily at the thought.
He only shrugs, his expression as unreadable as ever.
"It must take a great deal of skill," I muse, "to work it down your throat and into your esophagus."
Theo remains silent, his gaze steady and unflinching.
"Do you ever get nervous?" I wonder aloud softly. Is there anything that rattles him?
He shakes his head, not a word escaping his lips.
"Death seems like such a high price for entertaining a crowd," I say quietly, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
Theo lets out a low breath, the sound just loud enough to convey his frustration.
"I'm sorry," I stammer, feeling foolish. "I... I'm just really nervous."
To my surprise, Theo reaches for my hand, lifting it gently and pressing it against my chest, right over my racing heart. The warmth of his touch catches me off guard, and I feel my pulse quicken even more.
"Wh-what are you doing?" I stutter, my eyes widening in confusion as he slides his sword back into its belt. He lifts a finger to his lips, the message clear: quiet.
I nod slightly, trying to still my frantic thoughts. But it's difficult to focus with the noise of the crowd and the energy of the circus surging around me.
His fingers remain on the back of my hand, and with a slow, deliberate movement, they rise and fall in time with my heartbeat. Buh-duh. Buh-duh. Buh-duh.
Breathe.
The message is simple and clear, and I follow it, inhaling deeply with the rhythm of his fingers. Slowly, my heart rate steadies, and the tight knot of nerves in my stomach begins to unravel.
"Thank you," I mumble, the words barely audible as his fingers stop moving. But he doesn't let go of my hand, and for a brief moment, we stand there in silence, the connection between us charged, full of an unspoken closeness I can't explain.
YOU ARE READING
Spectacular!
Fantasy"Smoke and mirrors are for cheap tricks and county fairs, Kenna," he says quietly. "The circus... the circus is where magic and mayhem collide." Nineteen-year-old Kenna Oberman leads a sheltered life taking care of her sickly mother until she's gift...
