Circus Supernatural

Chapter 5

With hesitant steps, I followed the path. All around me were thickets of pine trees that reminded me of Christmas - minus the snow. The needles seemed to sway in an invisible wind, and I was grateful for the string of lights that guided my way. I wondered briefly who had hung them there. I anticipated that I would find out when I found the destination of this path. There was a silence here that was unnerving, and then to my left came the snap of a twig..

"Hello?" I called out in barely a whisper. But no one replied. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I heard it again, louder now, signalling it was getting closer. Branches of the trees ruffled as I paused, frozen. I waited in silence, broken only by the sound of footsteps, until they grew quiet. Nothing. No-one. I shook my head. Maybe I imagined it.

Every impulse screamed at me to go back, but back to what? A wall with no way around or over it? My only choice was to carry on. With one foot in front of the other, I continued. The moon high in the sky, a blanket of stars above me, I marvelled at the quiet. My life had never been quiet, and it unsettled me. There was always the noise of traffic, or footsteps, or arguments, but here it was like I could hear the tiny insects that crawled through the undergrowth. An owl hooted, and I nearly pissed my pants in fright.

"For fuck's sake, Willow, get a grip." I chastised myself, upping my pace.

In the distance I could hear faint music that reminded me of a jewellery box one of my foster parents had once. When the lid opened, a little ballerina would extend to standing, and twirl to the lullaby. It lured me onwards, intrigued by its source.

A buzzing began around my head and gasped in shock as a sparkle of fireflies fluttered in front of my face. Each a different colour, creating a rainbow of winged wonder. They shifted in synchronicity into the shape of an arrow. Pointing towards the direction the music was coming from, before splitting into their own individual flight path, zooming off into the trees.

My eyebrows arched, and I blinked. Did they just...what in the hell was going on? This definitely had to be up there with the most surreal dreams I had ever had, and I hoped I would remember it when I woke. Because this couldn't be real.

Twenty, thirty, forty more steps and I had reached the edge of the forest. Before me, a large iron gate loomed in front of me. A large gold padlock held it shut. Two Large brick columns stood on either side, connected to an iron fence with arrowhead shaped spikes at the top. Atop the columns were carved marble statues of lions, their mouths opened in silent roars. I reached for the padlock, pondering if I could pick it, but as my fingers grazed it, it opened with a click that echoed through the forest behind me. I stumbled backwards as the gate opened with a creak.

Before me stood a small wooden structure, around fifteen feet in height. A mix of purple and gold lines, and a door framed by gold silk curtains. Above the door was a sign that read 'Ticket Office'. I paused, as a shadowed figure in a top hat and holding a lantern of light exited the door and approached. I took a step back and nearly lost my balance, righting myself as the man in a long, tailored coat made of rich, vibrant red fabric approached. His coat had a gold trim along the edges, with intricate embroidery swirling around the cuffs and lapel. The buttons, large and shiny, looked made of gold. Epaulettes garnished the shoulders, adding to its grandeur. Inside, the lining could be seen as the coat flapped as he walked towards me, a deep black, which added a touch of elegance. He commanded attention and conveyed authority. The black tight trousers and shiny black calf-length boots completed the ensemble. He was tall, at least six foot three, and his face was chiselled in a way I had only seen in marble statues of Greek gods. A beard of light stubble peppered his face, neat and well groomed. His eyes, sharp and expressive, were a pool of indigo and seemed to change colour as he approached as the light from the lantern illuminated his face.

My hands shook as he stopped a few feet in front of me, lifting the lantern to allow him a better look at me. He cleared his throat as he eyed me from head to toe in a long, lingering gaze that made my toes curl and my heart race.

"Welcome to Circus Supernatural. My name is Dawson, and I am the Master of Ceremonies here. Tell me, how did you come to have Selena's admittance in your possession?" His voice was deep, warm and reminded her of the feel of velvet on bare skin.

I stuttered. "Selena? I don't know anyone called Selena."

His eyes narrowed as he appraised me and considered my reply.

"So you are a thief?" he asked with a snort of disgust.

"I'm no thief!" I growled. "I found it. In the possession of a lady called Sally. She's...dead." I whispered.

"By your hand?" he questioned.

"No! She was my friend!" I exclaimed.

"And the bruises on your face?" he waved his white gloved hand in my direction.

"The person who...killed her...did this to me when I tried to stop them running away." I lowered my head, attempting to stop the tears that threatened to fall.

"And you found her admittance?" he pressed, but his tone had softened again.

"Yes... I was...we were...living on the streets. I was trying to save her things before they tossed it all away. And the disc...admittance as you called it, it was in her bag. It flew into my hand. I pawned it, but it...came back...and...um...made me follow it. Here." I shook my head at how ridiculous my explanation was and felt sure he would laugh at me. I tugged on the sleeves of my hoody, shuffling my feet nervously.

He was silent for a moment, glancing behind him, then back to me.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Willow. Just Willow. I don't have...never knew my surname. Never wanted one." I shrugged.

His eyebrows arched, and I could see his jaw tighten at my answer.

"What did this 'Sally' look like?"

I thought for a moment.

"Old, grey hair. Thin and short. Green eyes...I think?" I answered hesitantly. "I only knew her from the streets. She helped me out sometimes. But there is this..." I said as I swung my backpack from my shoulders and dug inside, retrieving the baby blanket, unwrapping it from the tinfoil and handing it to him.

He took it from me, turning it in his hand, which had begun to shake.

"Selena..." he whispered, before stuffing the fabric in his coat pocket.

"Hey, you can't keep that!" I exclaimed.

"Consider it...borrowing." he winked, and I felt my legs weaken. "Come, just 'Willow'. It seems we have much to talk about." he turned his back to me and walked towards the wooden ticket office. Before I had time to ponder it, I found myself following him, more confused than ever before, but with an itch of a need to know just what the hell was going on.

Once inside, we approached an ornate wooden turnstile. Dawson slipped a gold key from his chest pocket, inserting it into a keyhole, turning it 3 times, before he stepped through the wooden spokes turning to allow him access. When he was fully through, he lifted the lantern to light the way for me, beckoning me to follow with a wave of his hand.

"Why the fuck not?" I mumbled and followed, feeling the spokes graze my arms as I carried my backpack against my chest. Once through, we approached another set of silk curtains, as Dawson clicked his gloved fingers and they parted, gold ropes snaking to tie them back. Open-mouthed, we made our way down four wooden steps on to a grassy verge. In the valley below, a circle of structures rose before our eyes. At the centre, a colossal tent rose as letters danced across the sky.

"WELCOME TO THE CIRCUS SUPERNATURAL."

I felt lightheaded, the shock of seeing structures appear out of thin air before my eyes, as I swayed from left to right. Just before the lights went out in my head and I dropped to the ground, I heard his laughter, like birdsong in my ears