Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-27131439-20151028182653

“You made it! Welcome to the circus!”

I indulged in a small smile as I came through the gates, colorfully-painted employees and mildly-entertained looking customers shuffling and milling around as I started to make my way into the carnival. To be honest, there were a lot more people there than I expected.

Is it normal for circuses to be held at night? I've never considered myself a circus expert, so it's plenty plausible for there to be a type of carnival I'm not familiar with. I didn't expect much activity when I got here, figuring that the late hour might turn a lot of people off – between people with work, people with school, and the utter pointlessness of bringing your kids, it really didn't seem like 10:00pm was a perfect business model for a travelling circus. Thinking back, I was more than a little bit confused when I first found the invitation tucked behind the flag of my mailbox; a folded-up, baby-blue note.

There it was though, right beside the picture of the brightly-colored (and kind of cute) female clown:

CIRCUS of SILENCE Yeah, ten at night; there was no mistaking that. Fortunately, I despite children, a trait that has plagued my admittedly ironic love of carnivals. A nighttime circus would ensure that all those little brats were in bed. I pocketed the note, not paying it any mind. I'd get to it when I... well, y'know, when I got to it. The circus ran for five days, so there really wasn't much reason to rush.
 * starts at 10:00pm
 * games, animals, soda, pizza, popcorn, cotton candy!
 * safe, professional acrobatics show!
 * don't follow the lights!

I ended up going the next day, flaking out on my dance class and opening that little note again, looking on the back side of it for the address. It wasn't that far away, a little out of town, maybe twenty miles. If memory served, it was being put up in, or near, the local park of the next city over. Keeping the note in case I needed it again for some reason, I set my GPS and took off around 9:00pm.

It was the easiest place to find that I've ever tried to find. As soon as I even got close to my destination, roadside signs started popping up at various turns. The first one I encountered was the same baby-blue as the note, bordered with glimmering sequins, which read: Circus of Silence – this way!

The next sign was a shade darker, looking like they'd quickly run out of paint. '''Just a little longer now! Circus of Silence is on its way!'''

 I turned, going a mile more, then found another sign, this one a shade darker and a little bit more purplish. '''You're almost there! Can't you taste that yummy popcorn?' I couldn't, to be honest, but I was'' looking forward to it.

The next sign was a little crooked, but looked about the same as the last one. '''Just ahead – Circus of Silence! Don't follow the lights!'''

The highway led to a side street, which then led to a graveled path heading into the forest where the park was. Tall, dark trees paved the path on both sides, leaning hungrily over each other to create a dim canopy of leaves above me, blocking out the sky. Flicking my brights on, I kept driving until I pulled up to a large, again unpaved, parking lot. At a rough estimate, it looked like the carnival had a modest turnout of around sixty people – not bad at all, considering the time of night and that it was only 10:15pm when I arrived. There's a lot to be said for aggressive advertising, I guess.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">“Hey there, friend!” came the soft voice of one of the workers, a young woman who looked to be around my age. She was dressed in a black and white striped costume, sharply contrasted by her red lips, red-dotted nose, and electric blue pigtails. “I'm Gabrielle, have you been to the Circus of Silence before?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">Speaking of “silence,” at her mention of the carnival's name I suddenly realized that it wasn't silent at all. I could hear a calliope in the distance, and crowds of people chatting and chuckling. The advertisement for animals also seemed to be a bit misplaced – while I could see what looked like a large, mobile kennel near the entrance, the animals inside were either asleep or absent entirely. There wasn't even a fenced-in area for them to come out if they decided to.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">“Um, no, I haven't,” I mumbled, still trying to take the place in. It was mostly lit by neon lights and the occasional torch, causing colors and shadows to play and dance along the tents without truly cutting through the darkness. “Anything I should know?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">The clown-girl's scarlet smile widened, and she gestured out at the carnival ahead. “Nothing! Just enjoy the circus! You can buy tokens at the concession tent to play the different games and get snacks. Don't get too chatty with the firebreather 'cause he just went through a bad breakup.” She paused, thinking, then remembering one last thing. “Oh! And if you decide to stay past midnight, make sure not to follow the lights!”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">“I actually wanted to ask about that–” I started to say, but she was already cartwheeling away to greet the next potential customer.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">Blinking slightly, I turned back to the carnival ahead, starting to move through it. I exchanged $20 for some tokens, grabbing a soda and starting to check the fair out in a little bit more detail. Despite the dark surroundings it seemed as normal as I could hope for it to be – there was a girl juggling flaming pins and a man who swallowed rapiers, a tall, lean guy wandering around the fair on stilts. Everyone was dressed brightly in classical colors, made up with subtle paints. They seemed a bit less like the more “traditional” birthday or circus clowns, all seeming a bit more antiquated and stylized, more burlesque than auguste. Agile, modern-day jesters, perhaps.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">The hall of mirrors, which I was pleased to find, made me dizzy right away – aside from the obvious reasons, the way the dim lights played around in the dark created a maelstrom of shadow and movement all around me. Colors danced and weaved, threatening to close around me, despite my surroundings being still. They flickered and danced when I moved, and a little more when I didn't, human-shaped glimmers of darkness seeming to draw closer until I finally stepped backwards, finding the exit to the mirror-maze behind me and slipping out. Disoriented but unfazed, I moved on, finding the popcorn booth and grabbing something to soothe my stomach. Time seemed to be passing quickly around me, and customers that had seemed excited to spend their hard-earned money when they'd arrived now seemed weary, some people starting to filter out, heading back to their cars.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">Curious, I slipped my phone out of my pocket and checked it. 11:42pm. It'd barely seemed like any time had passed at all, yet the lights did seem to be dimming even further as the evening crawled closer towards midnight, starlit dusk fading to an inky, empty black sky. As customers slipped out of the circus one by one, the bustling of their voices, too, began to fade. The circus grew quieter as midnight approached, I began to wonder how long I wanted to stay here. My hopes from earlier had been confirmed – there weren't any kids here at all, besides a few teenagers who were probably flaking out on homework.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">The calliope in the background started to get a little slower, a little quieter, small amounts of distortion hurting my ears just a little bit. I figured they were shutting it down, and maybe such a large machine took a bit of doing to get fully turned off – maybe like the last unpleasant wheeze of air that left a set of bagpipes. I wasn't sure.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">Letting out a little yawn, I stretched out, hearing a few vertebrae gently pop into place. I heard a call that felt like it came from far away, something about a show about to start. Right, the “safe, professional” acrobatics show. I had actually been pretty curious about that, and I would have started making my way over were it not for a soft, twinkling light in the distance. I could just barely see it, a hazy glow between the dark, lofty trees that surrounded the Circus of Silence. Cool white, yet comforting.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">I tossed my empty popcorn bag into a nearby trashbin (they were all over the place) and started to move forward, towards that soft light, before I felt a pair of tender hands close around my shoulders. “Don't follow the lights,” I heard from behind me. A soft voice, a woman's voice. A familiar voice.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">I turned a little, confused, looking for who had grabbed me as she backed up a bit. It was Gabrielle, the clowngirl who had first greeted me at the fair. “Oh! Hey, you startled me,” I murmured a little, “I, um, I wasn't following anything. I just saw something in the trees.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">Her red lips widened into another broad, friendly smile, though I could see that neither her attitude nor her makeup was quite as “polished” as it had been earlier. As more people drifted away, the workers got more casual, and it was something I was starting to notice all over the Circus of Silence – carnival workers were chatting with each other, a few had cigarettes lit, their makeup was disheveled and a few had already wiped their facepaint off altogether. The sword-swallower could be seen drinking a beer on a set of rickety spare bleachers behind the main tent.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">“Oh! Oh, good. I was so afraid,” Gabrielle said, sounding serious, though her odd smile remained.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">I arched a brow, now starting to feel a little uncomfortable. The possibility of misconstruing a midnight circus had already crossed my mind, and this girl's seemingly earnest warnings now had me worried. “What are you talking about? What happens if I follow them? Is there someone out there?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">Her smile turned into a small frown, and she took my hand in hers, her comfortably dark blue eyes sparkling with intelligence and intention. “Come with me,” she said brightly, squeezing my hand just a little bit as she led me towards another tent, one that was lurking behind the main arena where the acrobatics were being held. I felt a little uneasy, but I followed her anyway, trusting her soft voice and warm touch. It would keep me away from that soft light, anyway, and even though I'd denied it to Gabrielle, there had been a kind of attraction. A desire to move towards it, even embrace it.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">What was going on in this circus?

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">Inside the tent (which I noticed was striped with white and black, rather than the standard red-and-white candy stripes decorating the other tents and trailers) was a small stage, a dark red curtain hanging behind it, covered with small rips and tears, tattered towards the bottom. One brownish stain stiffened part of the corner with its crusty coating, and my uneasiness began to spike, a cold, queasy feeling rising in my stomach. “What... are...?” I began to ask, not sure what question I even wanted to ask.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">Gabrielle turned back to face me, her grin spreading, starting to split the corners of her mouth, showing endless teeth that seemed to encircle her entire jaw. Those azure eyes flickered, burning and darkening into a blazing, hellish green, her pupils a tiny singularity of pure whiteness. Her hands slid up to my wrists, tightening around them as she leaned in, a sickening whisper leaving those bleeding scarlet lips.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">“You should have followed the lights.” <ac_metadata title="Circus of Silence (unreviewed story)"> </ac_metadata>