The horror that is LOVE

FAIRYTALE

  Round and round, up and down, like an oxymoron. The carousel is spinning faster and faster, the festive lights shining in the surrounding night. This is the way carousels used to be enjoyed, as visions of beauty, free and unrestrained in the electric night, not as cheap imitations of past grandeur during the daytime hours. The horses prance along, following the lead horse around on a never ending racetrack. The only difference is, tonight, the lead horse has a rider. Young woman in a pretty pink satin dress. She's like a fairytale, a vision of beauty, free and untouchable. Red lips, dark hair cascading down her back, bare feet with the nails all painted with gold lacquer. She grips the golden pole of the horse tightly, but, facing forwards with her lips parted slightly, fear doesn't appear on her face. Nobody knows that she is desperate to get off.

The bystander at this nighttime scene will immediately notice something out of place: the amusement park is already closed for the day. And yet the carousel, intricate and elaborate, a piece of history, is running and spinning well past midnight. The other details begin to come into focus. The beautiful girl has been in some sort of trouble. The satin dress, torn in a few places, smudged with dirt. The handcuffs, keeping her arms and hands locked to the horse's pole. The ropes, tight and chaffing, trapping her here forever, it seems. The blindfold, hiding her eyes from the world. She cannot see who is controlling the carousel, yet she cannot cry out because her mind is spinning and she keeps having flashbacks. It's easier to succumb and pretend to be having a wonderful time. Just like mother had always told her; ignore the world, shut your eyes against the darkness, look good, be beautiful and lovely for everything. And she's putting on a wonderful show. For now, she can imagine it's daylight, she's having a grand time on the carousel. She sees her love get on his knees and propose to her as she steps off the carousel. Just like it happened a minute ago...just like it happened that very day. Or was it happening now? Her mind begins to slip and she's spinning, same as the horses. They're beautiful, really, mystical creatures from a parallel universe, yet nobody can feel the magic but her.

And around she goes...around and around. Faster and faster as the controls are overridden by the mystery man in a black coat. The band organ plays its repeating pattern louder and louder with each rotation. The mirrors on the center section reflect the lights and throw it back out to the thick darkness around the spinning circle. He's intoxicated by this, the lights and music, the way she keeps spinning, made desperate and fearful from the drugs in her bloodstream combined with the ever-rotating sensations. He looks at her and sees his creation of beauty, perfect, just like a caged bird, bruised and broken. Maybe he will charm her, his princess, leave her with bitemarks to compliment her bruises and cuts. Show the world that she belongs to him. He's playing God like this, it's his favorite game, even though he promised the previous one would've been his last. She's a bit older than his other princesses, but once he met her at the party, he couldn't control himself: he had to have her. He's dressed up for her, like the perfect gentleman and prince charming, but she doesn't see how wondrous it all is. She's living in a fairytale and he is the author, deciding her fate.

She is still spinning, that much she knows. Slowly she is becoming oblivious to the world, the band organ music now a faint, haunting tune at the back of her mind. It's beginning to be easier to just fade away from it all and lose consciousness.

He holds a single red rose up to the night air and tosses it onto the carousel as she passes him by again. The carousel shakes and shudders as he jumps on and makes his way to her and her fancy adorned lead horse. Handhold by handhold, switching grips on the poles as he advances through the ranks of carved beasts. Coming for you, darlin'.

She is forgetting her name by now. She's ready to get off the ride. Sweetheart, honey, can't we leave now, I'm getting dizzy. Make it stop, please, it's terrible.

The cold knife he holds against her skin is surprising but it's not until he lets the knife bite her that she is screaming, shrieking, like a siren's call, until it fades away as her breath escapes her body. He unties her and unlocks the handcuffs, removes the blindfold to see her green eyes that see nothing now. He picks her up in his arms, like she's his princess, his bride, and he's just going to put her to bed. Her limp arms swing as he carries her over to the storage chamber inside the carousel's center. There, he'll make her a bed of dirt down below, so she'll be sleeping always and forever underneath the carousel, the magic that can touch another world. He tries to feel that magic of life every time but can never feel anything more than the intoxicating rush of killing, that dark magic that happens in every fairytale. You cannot have one without the other: life and death eternally chasing each other throughout stories, round and round like a carousel.  

https://www.deviantart.com/chocolate-waterfall/art/Fairytale-313791335

Ever been stalked ???