Stories in the dark

Chapter 20: The Carnival of Shadows

The family trip was meant to be a fun, spontaneous escape—a quick stop at the old, desolate theme park they'd passed on the road. The sign, barely hanging by a few rusted bolts, read "Carnival of the Forgotten" in faded, peeling letters. A place frozen in time, with broken rides and dilapidated stalls, yet it held an odd, magnetic charm that drew them in.

There was the mom and dad, with their three children: Jack, the oldest at twelve; his little sisters, Ava and Rosie, giggling and excited for what they thought would be an adventure. Joining them was their cousin Sarah, a thrill-seeker, and her fiancé Mark, who always had an easy laugh and reassuring smile. Together, they made their way through the eerie, silent theme park.

The first game they encountered was a basketball hoop on a strange hill. The hill was a mound of dirt, with a rickety, slanted basketball backboard nailed onto it, and a long cage running beneath it to catch and return the balls. The kids immediately wanted to play, and everyone gathered around, laughing as Jack took the first shot, followed by Ava and Rosie.

But then, Sarah saw something. A tiny puppy, its fur scraggly and matted, scrambled out from the cage, barking in short, frantic yelps. It trotted toward the family, wagging its tail in an unnatural way—almost as if it was forced to. Sarah smiled, reaching out to it, but then froze. Another puppy appeared, but this one looked... wrong. Patches of its fur were missing, and one of its eyes was a hollow socket.

"Oh my God..." Sarah muttered, taking a step back.

More puppies emerged, one by one. With each new appearance, they became more grotesque—hairless patches, skin peeling away, eyes clouded over, and mouths that didn't seem capable of barking anymore. The children stopped laughing. Their eyes widened as the puppies gathered at their feet, staring up at them with empty, dark eyes, jaws hanging open in a silent, unnatural snarl.

"What... what is this?" Mark whispered, his voice trembling.

Then, without warning, shapes began emerging from the cage. Not dogs this time, but people—or what had once been people. Men staggered out, each of them more horrifying than the last. Some were missing eyes, some had twisted limbs, and others wore ragged clothing, stained and torn, as if they had been forgotten here for decades. One man had only one arm, and another had deep scars carved across his face. They limped forward, their eyes gleaming with a twisted hunger.

"Play with us..." one of the figures rasped, his voice dry and hollow, like something out of a nightmare.

The family huddled together, paralyzed by fear. But Jack noticed something—the strange men were inching closer, grinning in a way that made his skin crawl. He clutched his sister Rosie's hand tightly, his heart pounding.

One of the men, the one with the missing eye, raised a bony hand and pointed at them. "We've been waiting for you," he sneered. "We're hungry for some fresh company..."

That was enough. The dad shouted, "Run!" The family broke into a frantic sprint, leaving the deformed figures behind. Their footsteps echoed through the empty park as they tore through broken rides, darted past decaying food stalls, and stumbled over cracked, weed-choked pathways. But the sounds of shuffling feet and raspy breathing followed them, closer and closer.

As they neared the edge of the park, they could see the vague outline of the town up ahead. Safety was so close—but the nightmare figures were relentless, moving faster than they had any right to. Just as they were about to reach the street, Sarah tripped, falling to the ground with a strangled scream. Mark grabbed her, pulling her up as one of the twisted figures lunged, reaching out with jagged fingers that barely missed her ankle.

They kept running, hearts racing, lungs burning. They could hear the men behind them, muttering, laughing, taunting them as they gave chase. The family crossed the threshold of the park, stumbling onto the road, breathless and terrified. But when they looked back... the figures had vanished. The park was silent once more, as if it had swallowed up its horrors and retreated into darkness.

They stood there, shaken, unable to speak, each of them haunted by the grotesque images they'd just witnessed. No one knew what to say or do. They only knew one thing—they'd escaped... for now.

But as they walked away, Jack glanced back one last time and saw a single, small puppy with hollow eyes watching them from the shadows, its mouth opening in an eerie, silent howl.