Calendar Of Chaos

Chapter 2: The Freak Show Begins

   •The blaring alarms were deafening, but Cherry barely noticed as she slipped the glowing jewel into her bra, grinning like she’d just won a game of cat and mouse. “Alright, boys and girls,” she purred, twirling her umbrella in a slow circle, “time to make a mess.”

Before she could say another word, Rocky was already moving. His fingers tore across the strings of his guitar, unleashing a thunderous riff that shook the entire vault. The walls trembled, and the floor beneath them cracked from the force of the sound. It was more than just music—it was a weapon. Cops outside stumbled back, clutching their helmets as the sheer vibration rattled through them. Rocky stood tall, his leather jacket shimmering under the red emergency lights, a wild grin plastered on his face. “Let’s fucking shred,” he growled, strumming again, sending another shockwave through the building.

Cherry couldn’t help but laugh. Rocky never held back.

Behind him, Tricky was already moving. He unslung his banjo from his shoulder, fingers dancing across the strings with unnatural speed. But Tricky’s music wasn’t meant to make you move. It was meant to hurt. His eerie, off-kilter notes wormed their way into the brains of anyone close enough to hear it, like nails on a chalkboard. Cops stumbled, clutching their ears, some dropping their guns in sheer agony. Tricky watched them writhe with glee, a wicked grin beneath his mask. “Dance, you fucking pigs,” he whispered, plucking another string that sent a fresh wave of pain through his enemies.

“Oopsie!” came the familiar voice of Oopsy, who charged headlong into the fray like a lunatic. He shoved his head into the chest of one officer, sending them both tumbling into a pile of crates. As the cop struggled to push Oopsy off, the clown simply shrugged, gave his signature “oopsie” grin, and grabbed the nearest object—a heavy sledgehammer that had somehow ended up beside him. “My bad!” Oopsy giggled before swinging the hammer with reckless abandon, smashing through everything in his path, whether it was cops, crates, or even walls.

Mermy, meanwhile, danced her way through the chaos with her hula hoops spinning like deadly blades. She was too quick, too agile, flipping through the air as bullets whizzed past her. She twisted and spun, her hoops slicing through the rifles of the officers trying to shoot her. With one smooth motion, she disarmed a SWAT member and then gracefully wrapped her hoop around his neck, flipping him over her shoulder. “Too slow,” she teased, blowing him a kiss before darting off again.

“Let’s get this over with,” Frowny muttered, always in a bad mood. The first officer who got close enough to touch him got a face full of Frowny’s elbow, sending the poor guy crashing to the ground. Frowny didn’t stop to check if he was okay. He just stomped forward, boots crunching against the glass that had shattered from Rocky’s sound waves. Every person he passed seemed to get hit by some form of bad luck—cops slipped, tripped, or had their weapons malfunction as soon as they came into Frowny’s aura of misery.

Saddy trudged through the chaos, his eternal raincloud overhead, soaking everything and everyone in his vicinity. Officers around him seemed to lose the will to fight, the sheer weight of Saddy’s sadness pulling them into a fog of depression. Some dropped to their knees, unable to muster the energy to even raise their weapons. “Sorry,” Saddy mumbled as one of them sobbed, “it’s just… how it goes.”

Then there was Sleepy. He barely seemed awake, his head drooping as he wandered aimlessly through the battle. But when an officer approached him with a baton, Sleepy’s body reacted on instinct. With a swift, drowsy backhand, he sent the cop flying into a nearby wall. “Ugh... so tired...” he mumbled, leaning back against the vault’s steel door and dozing off mid-fight.

Meanwhile, Nicey barreled through the cops like they were made of paper. With his massive chainsaw revving, he sent officers flying with the sheer force of his swings. His deep, slow voice boomed through the chaos. “Nicey doesn’t want to hurt you!” he shouted as he tossed a SWAT officer aside like a ragdoll. “Let Nicey go first!” he demanded, laughing his deep, slow laugh as the officers piled on top of him. He swatted them away like flies, his giant hands sending them sprawling.