Volume VI: And Introducing Harley Morrow As - Herself

2. Eyes of a Tragedy

        There are things that go on in this world that you wouldn’t even dream of. Yet it happens every day. Things, people - come and go as if nothing was going on. But deep down, they know. Deep down, they care. Only on the surface can they be nonchalant - the real truth is too terrifying to let loose.

        The most dangerous enemy you have is yourself.

        Your most powerful weapon is honesty.

        The crowd passes idly, unaware of the real spectacle, the true show. They have better uses of their time, or so they say. They wouldn’t know “better uses” if it bit them. I gaze past the crowd, numb to their overpowering sense of contempt. It’s been raining - good for business. The water’s running over the edges of the hat - my mark of rank and authority. It drips down my hair, neck...I’m too numb to care. I chose this anyway.

        A tap on the shoulder, a familiar voice and shining grin.

        “You’re up,” he says to me.

        “Perhaps.” And I follow anyway. I could run away, quit this game - but why?

        We have the best operation in town.

        Underground.

        Welcome to the Gothik-Serkis, established by its namesakes. By the people, from the people, for the people.

        I’m merely your host for the trip.

        There are a wide array of talents provided here at our humble home. Hidden beneath the streets’ surface, the entrance hidden in the Drowning Raven - my uncle’s bar.

        It’s not a true circus, it’s more like a...community center for the lost. We have our own little world, built carefully and meticulously in an abandoned sewage line. We made massive improvements - a little hard work goes a long way. We financed our endeavor over time through various people and...slightly illegal means. But we made due. We had a place to call our own.

        I make my way through the grounds, soaked from the rain, but it’s no matter. Brisk steps take me to the center of all things, where I was brought. Serkis brought me here and I’ve stayed ever since.

        Would I have chosen any different?

        I make my announcements, acquaint myself with the crowd, and the usual routines take hold. Backstage I breathe out tension as time passes.

        Serkis creeps over, water dripping off the hat brim. She hands me her smoke slowly, careful not to scare me. I take a few hard pulls before handing it back to her.

        “Good job, kid.”

        I nod at her, tired from the week. It’s almost over. We all need days off. She’s leaning against the wall, looking around quietly. She looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

        “We didn’t do half bad. This place has been a center of illicit activities for years. It never really was used for real sewage, so to speak. New kinds of rats here now.”

        “Why all this? Why the drama?”

        She moved toward me, adjusting the hat on my head, tapping the flat top. Serkis smiled at me, like an approving mother. “You look perfect. We provide for the neglected child kept inside, a child that would die without such simple amusement. And besides, this is home.” She finished straightening me out, took a step back to admire her work, and smiled. “Go on. They’re waiting.”