Augustusswann

GO READ GENESIS ONE I want to talk with you guys about it

Augustusswann

To all my fellow Writers and Readers. What is your favorite thing about reading and writing? 
          
          For me it is both escape and a way for me to strangely make sense of the people around me.
          And a way for me to make temporarily make friends with The Silence (that follows me always).

Augustusswann

The Carnival That Forgot How to Die
          
          At the edge of town, where the wind whispered names, the carnival sat rotting. The Ferris wheel groaned. The carousel horses stared, frozen mid-scream. The big top sagged like it was tired of hoping.
          
          No one agreed why it closed — fire, murder, missing twins. Just one rule stuck:
          
          Don’t go after dark.
          
          But four kids did.
          
          Inside the funhouse, they found him. A clown. Not moving. Grinning too wide. His costume hung wet, like it had soaked up years of rot.
          
          He danced.
          
          A twitchy, jerking jig.
          Squelch. Squelch.
          The floor was… slick.
          
          He said,
          “Why did the clown love midnight?”
          A beat.
          “Because that’s when the punchline bleeds.”
          
          Something laughed behind the mirrors. It didn’t match his voice.
          
          He tossed confetti. It wriggled.
          
          The lights died.
          
          Then came giggles. Footsteps in the walls. A balloon animal shaped like a broken boy.
          
          They ran.
          Only some made it.
          
          The next morning, the gate was open. The mirrors were clean.
          A balloon girl waited on the steps. Braids. No mouth.
          
          No one claimed the kids.
          No one speaks of the clown.
          
          But now they say he’s not alone in there.
          Something new watches from the mirrors.
          
          Something hungrier.
          
          [You write the rest.]

Augustusswann

@Marcello86 i love it
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Marcello86

@ Demarreayx  The mirrors were no longer mirrors. They were windows into a deeper, hungrier darkness. 
            
            The laughter from behind them sharpened, no longer a giggle, but a desperate, animalistic chittering. 
            
            The clown's dance grew frenzied, a puppet with severed strings, its head lolling.
            
            ​In the reflections, the children saw not their own terrified faces, but shadows shifting. Longer. Thinner. And then, arms emerged. Pale, jointless, reaching through the glass as if it were water. They reached for them.
            
            ​The balloon girl, silent and mouthless, materialized behind their reflections, her empty gaze fixed on the real world.
            
             Her hands, made of stretched rubber, pressed against the glass, making it ripple like a disturbed pond.
            
            ​One mirror cracked. 
            
            Then another. 
            
            A sound like shattered teeth.
            
            ​The hunger was real. 
            
            And it was no longer satisfied with reflections.
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