You! I remember you! You’ve come back to the Dark Carnival! Well, welcome back. I hope you’re having a great time. After all, the Dark Carnival is such a scream, isn’t it?
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He yowled in his black box.
Up and down, up and down the bouncy go.
Squinting his tiny button black eyes in the darkness. He knew they were moving again, travelling to a new town with more fleshys for him to drool over. All that meat and bones yet he was not allowed to taste.
So hungry, so ever hungry.
“How’s the little rascal tonight?” came a voice murmured from the wood of his box.
He knew that voice, the fat man with the big red nose, the make up and rainbow hair. The one that takes the little fleshys away and put things in them. The small creature juddered at what he had seen peering through the broken parts of his wooden prison. The fat man took one of the little fleshys and took of her clothes, touched her, kissed her and then…
He released a faint snarl to the images of the memory. A hard slap on the wood made him silent.
“Grawr is restless as always, guess I should feed the little fuck.” The other man with the stern voice said. The creature’s muscles rippled over his small body even they knew the fear and pain associated with that voice.
Grawr curled into ball knowing the man wielded the pain stick that made his skin sizzle with its blue light. He shook his furry body, curled his tail to his mouth and licked the hairs. The impulsive disorder soothed the little thing, a habit born from fear of its owners.
Squinting his eyes again Grawr purred and lulled himself to sleep.
The roar of fire awoke him from his slumber. Squinting his black round eyes the world blurred with an orange-red glow. Gray lines just inches from his face. Grawr sat up and twitched its nose and sniffed the air. A sweet sharp scent of melting sugar drifted on the air currents. Perfume, smoke, melting butter and salty sweet. He pounced in his cage on all fours, his nails scraped against the metal of the cold steel floors while it paced back and forth. Grawr observed the world before him. Laughter drifted in the air and so many voices spoke, shouting at once competing against the tune that played from the black noise boxes. Smoking boxes clouded the air with a faint fog and dim colored lights that seemed to vibrate with humming sound glowed in numerous colors. Then the screams yelled from far in the distance as the fleshys yelled with excitement from the spinning wheel as it went to its side.
Grawr stopped to the unfamiliar pulse coming from the noise box. Closing his eyes he bobbed his head from side to side to the rhythm, he haven’t before heard this . He quite liked it to the dreary sound the noise box always played.
“Mommy, Mommy look! What is that?” A little fleshy shouted in excitement. Opening his eyes he observed the fleshy in her pink dress and her gold curls that appearing more vivid in the glow of the lights.
“I don’t know, it looks like… God what is that thing?” The older fleshy said. She smelled fertile and full with the flesh growing inside her.
Grawr licked his lips, he was hungry again.
Just one teensy little bite is all. Just a tasty of the fleshy.
Now more fleshys came closer to observe him. Two fleshys curled up into each other stared with curiosity, others poked faces he knew the little ones always made. Some just stared wide eyed. He was so used to it by now that it didn’t bother him. Closing his eyes Grawr bobbed his head again to the beat of the music. Some fleshys sounded amused with their ahh’s and ooo’s at him.
A smell of clean soap came full force to his nose. Opening his eyes again he leaned on his front arms as the little fleshy stepped closer to his cage. Grawr purred as she stretched out her finger, a smile spread over his lips her little hand would fit so perfect in his mouth. Her finger now inches from the steel bars that kept them safe from him. Getting ready,taking a steady breath he could feel the tension in his muscle contract for the attack. To reveal his sharp teeth to the fleshy would just make her turn in fear he had learned that lesson far too many times. She came closer and Grawr launched himself at the hand mouth open, teeth shining. He chomped down.
“Now, now little girl, you don’t want to do that,” the stern voice said. Stepping in front of Grawr’s cage and blocking the view of him and his teeth clamping down on the steel bar.
He addressed the crowed.
“Come one, come all to the carnival of Bèhol. Be bedazzled, be dazed and leave amused but be wary not all the attractions are alluring. Some spit, some squeal others snarl and one even wheels but there is one so devious, so cringed, so sinister he will make you squeal. Do not let his delectable eyes draw you in or his fur cause you to fluff him.You might just lose a finger or two, or three maybe even a hand, a foot or a leg. For he is the star attraction of our show, little Grawr the wolf boy will leave you ooing and aahing or you might just scream.”Adler sneered, making a grin at the crowed in front of Grawr’s cage.
Grawr’s jaws loosened and he released his death lock on the steel bar. Dripping with warm saliva leaving a faint vapor as it met the cold air.
Grawr went to sit and narrowed his eyes at the green tail coat blocking his view.
Same old same old sing you sung old man.
He licked his lips, he was hungry and not even a scrap had been fed to him. Now he must perform for the fleshys when his tummy digested itself from hunger.
The moon sat high in the night sky as Grawr looked up at it. So beautiful shiny and round, he wanted to reach out and touch it. He had performed jumping through hoops of fire like a kitten. He had one once. Bit its head off and sucked on the fine juices that flowed warm from its neck. The hair was bad.He purred with excitement from the delicate memory.
A hard slap against his cage made him jump, tripling backwards to get as far away from the pain stick as he could. The flashes it made and that frightening sound that already had him shivering and defecating himself out of sheer terror. The stern voiced man was angry at him. He could see the menacing smile on his face and smell his sour breath as he made his way over to Grawr.
Grawr wanted to snarl, snap and growl at him but what would it help.
“You little runt, trying to take a child’s hand!” Adler rattled the cage. “You would make me end up in prison and then what? Where would you go?” Ice cold water spilled over his fur seeping into his coat. Grawr coiled into a ball shivering not from the cold of the water that Adler had drenched him with, but the fear of knowing. Remembering how much it’s going to hurt, how it’s going to feel.
The first sting came sudden and quick as the sparks cracked into his flesh. His tiny muscles clenched, convulsed and stiffened from pain. The water only intensified the shock. Another stab followed making him whimper, foam forming at the corners of his mouth. Another and another followed. By the sixth shock Grawr had to force air into his tiny lungs his skin felt tender, his fur smelled charred.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t happen again,” Adler barked at him.
The rush of another bucket of cold water washed over him. Grawr just lay where he was his muscles still ached in spasms of pain. Tears formed in his black beady eyes. He shivered, this time from the cold as the wind blew over him. Hungry, cold and alone it brought back a bitter nightmare to his tiny mind. On the streets of Venice where he was born, he was ripped from his mother’s arms by street gangs. They had beaten her till he could not hear her heart any more,then they kicked him, spit at him and threw stones at him before they dropped him in the river.
Adler found him and brought him into this.
He never could understand why fleshys treated him so. Why he had a brown red coat of fur covering his skin, black beady eyes, sharp teeth and a wet black nose. Why he had ears like a dog and a thick mane and tail. Why he had black claws for fingernails. Why he remained so small. He had long since stopped pondering on such things. The fleshys were bad and he wanted them all dead.
Waking that morning to the rattle of pellets in a plastic bowl and the slam of his cage door, Grawr stirred sore but sat up wide awake. Something loomed in the air, something that didn’t set right with the world. He could smell fear from the other animals they were on edge, something was coming. It was late in the afternoon when Algolu trumpeted and the giant elephant was uncooperative with her trainer. Earlier that day, flocks of birds could be heard flying away from the town. Zook the dancing monkey kept moving and twitching showing his anxiety. Grawr could hear the air high above them, winds howling, the sky painted a dark gray and the clouds hung heavy and dense. The fleshys paid no heed to it as they got ready for the visitor’s of the night. A devil wind had started up and even now the old one muttered to herself.
Grawr peered at her as she walked past his cage. Her hair was gray hidden behind a satin head band. Her large round earring swung back and forth as did the bells on her dress, ringing as she walked.
“Death we will all receive it, death is near.”
“Death… what is it?” Grawr asked.
The old fleshy froze. Her eyes drew wide, the wrinkles on her forehead appeared more prominent.
Her hands shook as she outstretched them. “It spoke… the devil child spoke.” Her face had become paler than it should be. Grawr heard the rush her heartbeat made in her chest. Hear the swish of the uneven breaths she took.
“We are all dead! The devil child spoke! It’s an omen, it’s a sign. We are all dead!” She turned voicing to herself.
It was then when a roar groaned in the distance. Grawr’s ears perked up, Zook screeched a winching cry and Algolu stamped her feet on the ground pulling her trainer down with force.
“Bloody fucking animal.What’s up with you today?” he muttered, pushing himself up off the ground. The roar got louder. A low rumbling sound grew ever more thunderous. The wind picked up, carriages started to rattle, steel groaned as something pulled on it.
A shout echoed, “Oh God, run! RUN!” Then the trampling of feet followed by yells and screams.
From where Grawr sat he could not see beyond the corner of the shaking carriage but he could hear and feel the vibrations. The wind changed as two carriages seemed to be pulled sideways. His heart drummed wild. He lunged and clutched the cage, rattling the bars so hard that it caused his prison to topple off the wooden crate on which it stood. Grawr prepared for the impact as the cage fell. It had barely landed when it got scooped up by the pulling wind.
At first he wanted to breathe with relief but the cage started spinning. The world turned and the roar droned deafening in his ears. The next thing he knew he slammed forward as the cage hit something hard and fell to the ground. He groaned and shook himself to clear his head and he realized, the cage had broken. The lock lay several inches in front of him. For the first time his heart pounded so fierce in his little chest it felt like it would pop.
He rushed forward and heard the squealing sound of steel snapping and cracking. A loud noise shot through the air and a crash came that made the ground shake. On all fours he ran, frightened by the terrible sound and the tremor the ground made. The other sound came soon after, a whirling menacing roar and screech. He looked back and saw the massive swirling violent cloud as it ripped up trees and rocks. The sound of his pounding heart nullified the sound of the groaning mass.
He ran panting, as fast as his short legs and arms would take him. He turned a corner running faster than the fleshy’s feet around him and he spotted it, a small hole. His instinct took over and he ran for it. It was a tight fit but he managed to burrow into the hole under the rock formation. Scudding deeper, he finally curled into a ball his teeth clenched, his nails gripping the moist earth and as his body shivered.
Hours later he dared to move. The air drifting into the burrow smelled normal again. The silence of the world beyond calmed his still raging heart. Popping his head out, the scene painted a different picture. Night had fallen. Fires burned. Food, paper and garbage was scattered around and carts were toppled everywhere. The scent hit him; sweet, warm and delicious. He licked his lips, sat back on his butt, tilting his head in a ninety degree angle and narrowed his black eyes.
A rustling noise to his left caught his attention, someone coughing and breathing hard.
Grawr crept closer. He could smell the fat man’s sweat but he could also smell the blood. The man hadn’t noticed him being so busy attending to the broken bone sticking out of his right leg. So transfixed that he didn’t notice when Grawr sat down right in front if him.
“Grawr put thing inside you.”
The man looked up, his face turning a shade of gray. Grawr smiled showing his sharp teeth. The man opened his mouth and Grawr leapt at his face. Razor sharp teeth melted into the fat man’s cheek, Grawr’s mouth covering the man’s own muffling his screams. Grawr tightened his jaw feeling his teeth slice and cut creases into the man’s face as he forced them closed. His claws latched on to the man’s throat and his grip tightened into the man’s soft neck. A gargling noise filled the fat man’s throat and he went silent.
The body slumped backward hitting the ground with a thud. Grawr sat on the dead man’s chest, shook his head from side to side and spat out the bitter taste of the man’s blood. It tasted like those burning sticks he sucked. Displeased with the taste, he shook his fur well aware of the approaching scent and footsteps coming up behind him.
“What have you done?” Adler said, choking on his words. Grawr growled low, hunched his back and turned when he saw the pain stick in Adler’s hand but something was different with Grawr. The smell of blood and the taste of fleshys had a fire coursing through his veins. His senses seemed heightened. He could hear the man’s breathing, his heart speeding up and he could smell the sweat tear that trailed down his right side. Adler brought the pain stick up as he approached Grawr with caution, but Grawr felt no fear as his blood coursed sending the new fire through him.
“Grawr eat now,” he leapt at Adler’s groin, claws dug into his thighs and teeth latched onto his crotch. A sour bitter taste filled the blood that flowed and Adler screamed.
Adler fell to his knees Grawr let go and crawled up the man’s body digging his nails in his flesh for support. He heard the stick fall from the man’s hand and he gripped Grawr’s little waist to try and get him off his body. Grawr only dug his claws deeper into Adler’s skin. Muscle tore as Adler tried to push Grawr away. Grawr kept flexing his claws back and forth making a tender mush of the flesh. Blood spewed from Adler’s mouth struggling to scream again. The hands on Grawr’s waist loosened and Grawr launched his teeth into the man’s throat. The blood spilling out with the taste of meat was different than the fat man’s. Grawr swallowed and took another bite ripping Adler’s flesh from under his chin, gorging himself on the delicious taste. Something chattered behind Grawr and he turned growling at his opponent. He stopped however when he saw Zook looking at him baring his own smile making his quick quirky movements. The monkey approached with caution.
“ZOOK, no!” his owner hollered.
The monkey screeched. Grawr wasn’t unaware of the torture Zook also had experienced from his owner. Grawr turned and snarled at the black haired fleshy. The man backed away a couple of steps his eyes dancing in their sockets as he looked at the two dead bodies then focused on the stinging stick. Grawr snapped at him then purred as he moved forward. Still back peddling the man spun around and ran. Grawr lunged mouth open wide, dripping and splattering saliva as he sank his teeth into the man’s back. They fell and Grawr let go and bit into the back of the man’s skull. He heard a crack sound and the man went still. Zook jumped up and down hands clapping, smile on his face. The monkey clearly amused by Grawr’s little game.
Grawr turned to him and the monkey stopped. He still had his little jacket on made of red shiny material and blinking things. Grawr was always jealous of the other animals. All he had to wear was a thin piece of shorts that had gone an ugly brown. He came to sit in front of Zook observing the monkey, tilting his head to the side. The monkey did the same. Grawr smiled and the monkey smiled back. Grawr showed his teeth and the monkey mimicked the gesture. Grawr growled and the monkey stopped and only looked at him. He growled again and then he leapt at his fury friend sinking his fangs into the monkey’s shoulder. A scream echoed from Zook as the two rolled in the dirt. Grawr bit harder, landing on his hands and feet shaking the monkey back and forth in his mouth. His bite loosened sending the monkey flying against an overturned cart. The small animal’s chest heaved up and down, blood dripping from his wound. Grawr approached him.
“Zook play dead?” Grawr growled, blinked his eyes then took the killing bite to the monkey’s throat.
Several hours passed as Grawr had his fill of the carnival men and women, those that didn’t get caught up and killed by the tornado. He sat on the old fleshy’s chest her head in his hands sucking on her blood drenched ear lobe. He loved the taste of blood far more than he loved the taste of flesh. The fires around him had started eating the carnival, setting a glowing blaze to his surroundings. He looked up at the sky and dropped the old ones head. The moon was big and bright above him. Arching on his hands and knees his fur standing on end, he howled at the moon and a shiver coursed through his tiny form at the sensation of how good it felt. A different scent carried by the wind caught his attention and he turned. In the distance he could see smoke burning and lights glistening. Noises drifted up from the town in the valley. Grawr licked his lips.
“Need more fleshys!” he growled into the night air. With another howl Grawr pounced off the old ones body and trotted with purpose toward the town. His tail swung in delight of his next kill.
They come to me in the night, creeping into my head. Their voices are all different, their stories all dissimilar, but they keep saying the same thing…
“Show us, tell us to the world. Bring us into yours, and make us known.”
Then I sit and they take over. They tell their tales of love, loss and sinister misfortune, not all of them get a happy ending, but they are pleased when their part is written.
I sometimes find myself lost in my own mind; a world very similar to our own yet so different. Things don’t go bump in the night—they squeal, and crawl under your skin, making you grind your teeth, and your stomach turn over and put your nerves on edge. Then there’s the drama. Oh, the drama!
I write because I must! There is so much inside of me that needs to get out. So many stories to tell, characters that want to be heard, and hearts lost and won. Words and art are my way of bringing my world to others. I enjoy telling tales of the human condition but working in elements of the supernatural. Werewolves, Vampires, Zombies, Witches and the unexplainable all set against the human world or worlds of their own.
I was born and raised in Cape Town, South Africa, grew up in a working class family and enjoy writing, cooking and spending my husband’s money! Yeah I’m a cocky little brat too :) (and proud of it, spankings included.) Twitter Blog
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