The Midnight Carnivale

Chapter Four

Rosie couldn't bring herself to obey.

She knew the consequences of her actions would be severe, she knew she was only prolonging the inevitable. Rosie also knew she would be worse off for it in the end, but she couldn't convince her feet to knowingly carry her towards the deplorable excuse of a human being grinning madly at her from the shadows.

She just couldn't.

Mr. Hayes seemed to know this as well.

He didn't shout, he didn't get angry, those would have been preferable options. What he did do was rise slowly to his feet, filling the small space with his mountainous form, and he smiled.

"Perhaps some place more private would suit your delicate sensibilities?" he suggested, gripping the side of the long table, the only piece of furniture that separated the two of them. Rosie shuddered again, tears burned in the back of her eyes but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

In a show of strength, perhaps to serve as a reminder, Mr. Hayes flipped the heavy wooden table on its side and sent it crashing into the opposite wall. The shelves rattled and the plates that Rosie had so carefully cleaned and stacked crashed down onto the floor.

It was as if the spell that had kept her frozen in place had broken with that simple act and Rosie first staggered, then stumbled backwards before finally getting her feet beneath her. She made a mad dash for the door but only made it a few paces before getting jerked clean off her feet by her hair.

Hayes had crossed the space in half the time it had taken Rosie to make her move and he now held a fist full of auburn curls he used to pull her close.

"You shouldn't have run," he said softly, though the grin still warping his features suggested he quite enjoyed the chase. "Come now, you kept me waitin' long enough. Did you really think you could avoid this?"

He spoke as he pulled her along beside him. "Time to do some real work around here, girl."

Hayes used his hold on her hair to guide her down a narrow hallway which ran the length of the farm house. At the end of the hall was a closed door which opened into his room, a place strictly off limits to the half a dozen kids who had the unfortunate privilege to call the place home. Some of the other kids speculated on what he might be hiding in there, a few even dared each other to go in from time to time, though none had ever dared.

Rosie had never held any interest in that room in the past, not even for a second, and certainly had none now.

As they drew closer, Rosie's struggle against his hold began anew. She reached back as far as she could manage and scratched at his hand and arm. She could feel her nails biting into flesh, but he hardly seemed to notice.

"Help!" she screamed in hopes that one of the other boys might come to her aid. "Someone, please help me!"

Hayes chuckled. "Yell all you want girl, you ain't the first, probably won't be the last..."

Rosie couldn't see it, but she heard the sound of the latch turn and the door creak as it was pushed open. Hayes took one step and there was a heavy thud, followed by what sounded to Rosie like an egg being smashed against pavement. She felt the grip on her hair go slack and then fall away entirely.

Scrambling away, Rosie was halfway down the hall before she stopped and looked back. Mr. Hayes was slumped against the wall, his face cupped in his hands. Blood poured through his fingers, the red a stark contrast to the muted, grimy colors of the walls and even Hayes himself. Despite his efforts to stem the flow, the blood pooled in thick puddles at his feet.