#because her facial muscles are contorted and look like a fuckiNg scream mask

[angelnumber27]

I am having very specific localized pain directly where my heart is

have mercy plz just let my body feel normal and not in pain for once. Just today

[thedarkenedkeeper]

Glitched: Part 15 - Good Puppet

Author's Note: You thought it'd take longer for me to get this chapter out, didn't you? Well you thought wrong!

I don't even know where to begin with this chapter, so I'll just say this: This is a whole new level of fucked up. Also BIG WARNING: This chapter contains detailed gory descriptions. There is severe torture and mutilation throughout. A character experiences extreme trauma - both physically and emotionally - all throughout the entirety of the chapter.

Enjoy the show, everyone! ;)

Listen to this playlist while reading the chapter.

  Endless darkness enveloped him, a sea of black in his wake. His senses had all seemed to shut off, not being able to see, hear, or feel anything. He almost felt like he was falling through a never-ending abyss of nothingness.

 Where was he? Hadn’t he just been speaking with Jack a moment ago, right before he was supposed to go on stage and open up the show? What had happened? 

 Slowly but surely, very faintly, his hearing began to come back to him. He couldn’t really make out anything though; everything was quiet and muffled and seemed rather distant. The magician groaned softly, a sudden jolt of pain striking his brain. His head felt extremely heavy and he felt incredibly drowsy and out of it. Had he been drugged? No, his head hurt far too much – he must’ve been physically knocked out. But by who and why?

Expelling sluggish, shallow breaths, he felt himself roll his neck, head hanging low; struggling to lift it. He could barely even get himself to open his eyes given just how languid he was. He had little to no energy, almost no motivation at all to move, but he needed to try. Something didn’t feel right and he needed to wake up. 

 Squeezing his eyes tightly shut due to the agony channelling through his cranium, he weakly gave an attempt to pry his eyes open. They were barely open, his eyelids straining to stay up as he tried to make out his surroundings. He wasn’t wearing his mask – or if he was, then it had been pushed back on his head – and everything was a complete blur, blinding blotches of color here and there. His hearing wasn’t helping him either. He could make out soft, elegant music, as well as a few voices, but it still all remained faint and indecipherable. He groaned at feeling the pain throb in the back of his skull, most likely the origin of how he’d been knocked unconscious. He grimaced, going to lift a hand to caress the back of his head, but to his surprise, he couldn’t raise his hand at all. His brows weaved together out of confusion as he went to move his hand again only to feel something dig into his skin, keeping his wrist in place and immobile. Marvin blinked groggily, his face contorted with question. He breathed deeply, giving his other hand a tug to see if the same thing would happen. Sure enough, that hand was in the exact same predicament.

   Now the magician was really concerned. Why couldn’t he move his hands? He squeezed his eyes shut again, shaking his head in hopes to get himself out of the foggy haze. The graceful yet older piece of music he had been having difficulty hearing a moment ago was beginning to drift through his ears, finally being able to hear it properly. He recognized the choice of music immediately: It was the piece used for Lunette’s act. He reopened his eyes, still quite dazed but he was coming to. He gave a feeble tug at both wrists, his breath hitching slightly when he vaguely made out what looked like duct tape wrapped around his wrists, keeping them strapped down to the chair he was seated in. He began to twist and turn in his seat, trying to pull his hands free from their bonds.

  A symphony of gasps and shrill shrieks rang throughout the room. A loud abrupt thud, shortly followed by an ear-piercing shattering, came from a few feet away from him.

   It immediately tore the magician out of his dazed state of mind. He jumped in alarm, bolting upright and eyes blowing wide with fright. His attention instantly zeroed in on what was laying on the ground in front of him. At first, he couldn’t even figure out what he was looking at. There were shards of what seemed to be pale porcelain, stone, or ice (he couldn’t tell, the lighting was effecting his vision) scattered all across the ground in all different jagged shapes and sizes, all surrounding and seeming to have originated from the human-like figure remaining a still, broken mess on the stage. It almost looked like a statue or an ice sculpture of sorts, what with how placid it was and how its skin appeared hard and glossy under the spotlights. The shattered figure must’ve been of a woman – Marvin couldn’t see its face since it was facing the other way, but it had short dark hair in curls, lovely flowers adorning its head, and a beautiful, glittering…midnight blue leotard…with the back laced up like a corset…

   Marvin’s heart stuttered, a painful beat panging against his ribcage. His stomach churned, long-lost nausea wriggling through his guts, and all time and space fell impossibly still.

   No…No, it couldn’t be…

   He quickly glanced upward to see where this figure had fallen from. Another pang came from deep in his chest at seeing two long silky strands of blue fabric, both securely wrapped around what looked like a set of corpse-white legs; presumably having been broken away from their owner. Finding himself struggling to breathe properly, let alone even comprehend what was going through his head, Marvin directed his attention back to the crippled heap of porcelain on the ground, finally taking in the sight before him.

   This severed damaged statuette was not a statue at all. He wasn’t staring at a porcelain, stone, or ice sculpture – this woman was a human being, made up of flesh and bone. Her skin was deathly pale, so much so to the point it was ice blue. Actually, now that Marvin could see her clearly, he realized with horror that there was a reason why she looked so cold: her entire body was frozen. She was covered in a thin layer of frost, and the parts of her that had broken off displayed sheets of bruising-purple muscles. Both of her legs were gone; her left one having cracked at the knee, while her right had gotten torn out of its socket. Cracks lined her arms, a few areas appearing as though they were on the verge of crumbling inward. There wasn’t any blood, given how it was frozen solid all throughout her body.

   Marvin’s breaths were coming out shaky and uneven now as he stared in horror at the fragmented beauty lying not too far from him. He parted his lips, her name right on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t speak. His throat had gone painfully dry and he honestly felt sick to his stomach at the very thought of the sweet, angelic woman being dead. He wanted to scream and cry and demand to know what the hell was going on. He swallowed, hesitant to say a word.

   “L…L-Lun –?”

   A scream got caught in his throat at seeing the broken body jerk, a soft, scratchy groan expelling from her. One of her hands clawed at the ground weakly before slowly moving to try and push herself up. Another raspy groan got dragged out of her as she struggled to sit up, cringe-worthy snapping and cracking of her skin and bones echoing throughout the tent. Marvin sat paralyzed in horror, mouth hanging agape and facial expression contorted into one of disturbance. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the icy acrobat, and he most certainly couldn’t hear the uproar of cheers and applause coming from the audience who had been watching the unearthly display.

   “Our ludicrous Frostbitten Lunette, everyone!” A familiar Irish voice announced with zest. “She may be cold as the dead, but she will absolutely fall to pieces for anyone and everyone!” The man cackled wickedly. “It seems she just can’t keep herself together without breaking a leg – literally!”

   The audience exploded into a sea of laughter, applauding both the announcer’s commentary as well as the aerial silks acrobat, who was quite literally damaging her insides as she pushed herself to sit up. The woman finally sat up straight, a horrendous crunching sound emitting from her back as she did so. Her head dropped forward, a breath released from her frostbitten lips before turning her head slowly to look out at the audience, then down at herself, staring emotionlessly at her nonexistent legs. She jerked her head, an awful, unsettling snap producing from the motion.

   “I can’t feel my legs.” The way she said it – it wasn’t just how raspy her voice was, how she sounded as though her vocal cords had been ground up in a garburator. It was how she sounded dazed and out of it, like her brain was too slow to process how the reason she couldn’t feel her legs was because she didn’t have them at all. The words were drawn out of her mouth lazily, making her come off like she was in a trance of sorts, like she was completely unfazed by what had happened to her a minute ago

   Though her voice had been butchered, Marvin immediately recognized it and his poor heart coiled in on itself at hearing it.

   “L-Lunette?” He croaked out, panic rising in him as he dreaded to see the acrobat’s face.

   The frozen woman’s head jerked up violently, a nauseating cracking coming from her spine that caused Marvin to press his back into the back of his chair out of discomfort. Slowly, she turned her head and locked her gaze onto the magician. There was nothing in those sunken eyes. They were a foggy white, glazed over with something – Marvin didn’t know what – but whatever it was, it was keeping her from realizing what was really going on. There was no fear, no suffering, no shock – absolutely devoid of showing any normal human emotions.

   “M…Mar-vin?” She shuttered, her head cocking the other way, almost looking at him with question.

   She stared at him with those dead-cold eyes for a prolonged minute before she sluggishly shifted her attention back down to her legless body.

   “My legs hurt.” She drawled out. Yet again, her words came out with little to no emotion, not even remotely aware that her legs had been torn away and were still suspended above her.

   Marvin’s breathing picked up, leaning forward and tugging a bit at the bonds keeping him attached to his chair.

  “Oh my God, Lunette, what – what’s –?”

   He didn’t get to finish his question, as something fell from above him; hitting the ground violently and exploding into large chunks. He sucked in a sharp breath at seeing the fractured remains of Lunette’s frostbitten legs; most of her blackened toes having flown off her feet at the impact. Marvin was greatly disturbed by the sight, but Lunette – she seemed very unresponsive. She wasn’t startled, nor had she come to the conclusion of the daunting situation she was in. She merely took a glance at her legs and arched forward, reaching a hand out to grab one of them.

   Just as she took hold of one, a mangled creature of sorts – something of which looked an awful lot like a young boy no more than seven years old – scurried across the stage and bee-lined straight for the other leg. This boy (if that’s what it was) was down on all fours, his back legs contorted in a way with the knees caved inward and his arms gaunt and brought in close to his chest, all coiled up and deformed. Ragged clothing hung from his skeletal limbs, his rigid bumpy spine protruding through his shirt. His face was mainly hidden by the stringy nest of hair draped over his wild eyes, a monstrous growl rumbling out through his malformed teeth. This thing darted for Lunette’s severed leg and immediately lunged for it, first digging its rotting nails into the icy flesh before opening its jaws wide and snapping down. Lunette frowned and went to move forward, going to attempt getting her leg back, but it only caused the creature to hiss and stagger backward. The audience got a rise out of it, a wave of laughter filling up the tent. A childish, eerie giggle rang out through the tent, causing all of the hairs on the back of Marvin’s neck to stand on end.

   “I’d say someone enjoyed her act very much, wouldn’t you agree?” The announcer said, another giggle followed shortly after.

   Lunette stretched her other arm out, digging her chipped black nails into the stage to try and pull herself towards the wretched being currently gnawing on her detached leg. One move was all it took for the thing to snarl at her warningly before racing off stage with the leg clamped between its teeth.

   “Damn it, Tino, no. Give it back.” The acrobat whined, not even trying to go after the little heathen.

   Marvin’s eyes were wide as saucers, his breathing quickening at a rapid pace. Wait, Tino? As in “dog trainer” Tino? The little boy who always amazed him with his dog act and would normally drop by his dressing room to get tips on performing – that Tino? Marvin gawked in horror, watching the misshapen monstrosity disappear back into the shadows. There were other figures standing in those shadows, a few sets of glowing eyes piercing through the darkness and watching everything unfold on stage. Marvin’s face scrunched up with puzzlement, squinting his eyes in a poor attempt to see what any of these beings were. He immediately regretted doing so.

  The figures backstage were all of different shapes and sizes, all with some sort of human-like stature. He could only assume they were his performers, but the way they each looked – not a single person was okay. They had all become terribly mutilated and malformed, masses of flesh made up of stitches, growths, and more or less appendages. It was nearly pitch black behind the curtain so he couldn’t fully make out everyone, but there were a few who made the blood drain from his face.

  A bulky beast-like man standing seven feet tall with sharpened-to-the-tip bones jutting out from along his back was holding what looked like a long thick sheet of fabric at first glance. Upon adjusting his eyes, Marvin realized with stomach-turning shock that there was a flimsy, limp woman draped over the man’s bulging arms, flexing all the way back to her heels. Her entire body appeared to be spattered with an abundance of shades of yellows, greens, and purples, and there were thin streams of red running down from her mouth, nose, eyes, and ears. Her expression was in a petrified state of horror, not moving a muscle. There was a large jar down at the hulk’s feet, the lid removed and filled with some kind of fluid. Marvin’s jaw dropped in a silent scream when he saw the man ruthlessly start to shove and stuff the woman’s paper-thin cadaver into the jar, grunting with effort as he pushed to fit her inside. Marvin felt a vomit-inducing sourness fill his mouth, gagging at the sight.

  His eyes travelled to behind the heap of muscle, noticing movement. There was a man whose face and body were so horrifically deformed it was hard to believe he was even a man to begin with. A good portion of his face was bulging out with revolting boils and growths, major sores of deep purple spotting his frail body. He was pulling at both of his cheeks, stretching out the flesh to test its elasticity. It wasn’t going well, what with how a part of his right cheek was starting to tear. Marvin tore his eyes away in disgust only to then see another abnormality standing beside the man. Two people – one male, one female – seemed to be attached together side-by-side; their closest arms fused into one, their legs in the same state. A three-legged, three-armed amalgamation. And as if that wasn’t already unsettling enough, there were what looked like pins, needles, and nails embedded into their form, sticking out all across their arms, legs, chests, backs, and faces. Their clothes were entirely comprised of patches of different patterned fabrics, inexpertly stitched together like the sutures lining their dead-white faces. To Marvin’s eyes, they gave off the appearance of a living voodoo doll. He was forced to rip his gaze away at seeing the woman proceed to jam a spike into her counterpart’s neck.

What the fuck was going on? He had so many questions racing through his head, and although he wanted answers, he didn’t know if he truly wanted to know the truth as to why he was bound to a chair, why Lunette was a frozen crippled corpse, why there had been a malignant thing – who had apparently once been known as the young Tino – on stage, chewing away at one of Lunette’s dead-cold limbs, or why pretty much his entire circus had been converted into a ghastly horde of aberrations.

He wrenched violently at his bonds, rocking the chair in the process as he watched Lunette claw at the ground, feebly pulling herself towards backstage, presumably to try and get her dismembered leg back. Marvin’s eyes darted down to his wrists, growling through his teeth as he mustered all of his strength. He needed to get out of here, he needed to find Jack and get help. With a tear and a snap, the tape around his left wrist came undone, and without hesitation, he immediately pulled his wrist free and tore the tape away from the other. He sprung to his feet and went to race to Lunette’s side only to slip on a piece of her frozen flesh and hit the ground hard on his back. He yelped, a whole new pain weaving along his spine as he pushed himself to sit up. It was at that moment when he made out an array of gasps and fits of laughter, along with the voice of the announcer – a very distinct voice. One of which he knew far too well.

“Ah, look who has finally awoken, everyone! Look who has awakened just in time for the main event!”

 Marvin froze in his place; his wide eyes darted off to find the ringmaster staring right back at him, an expression of purely defiled glee written all across his sickly pale face. The magician felt his stomach drop and his blood run ice cold at seeing the man’s face.

It was Jack.

But it couldn’t be him – it couldn’t be. Everything that was going on, all of these nightmarish things, none of it could be Jack’s doing. Jack would never do such a thing. Yes, Marvin may have hated him with every fiber of his being for a year, and yes, he had snapped at the man, not holding back on just how much he despised him for what he had done. But there was not a chance in hell Jack would ever do something as horrendous as this. Even if he was put off with how Marvin had acted, he still wouldn’t put the magician through his own personal hell. The Irishman was too pure and kind-hearted to commit such a crime. But the longer Marvin stared at that face twisted up with wrongful happiness, and the more he dwelled on the thought of how he’d been forgotten for a year, he was beginning to doubt if he even knew the real Jack. He scuttled backward before getting to his feet, never taking his eyes off of his creator.

“J-Jack?” Perplexity was all over his face, but there wasn’t just that. Fear was mixed in as well, especially what with how a completely fragmented Lunette was dragging her frozen, crumbling carcass across the stage.

Jack’s cruel smile grew larger at hearing the magician stutter out his name. He could hear the fear seeped into his voice and it only made him all the more delighted. With a skip in his step, the ringmaster practically cavorted over to where Marvin stood shaking like a leaf. He went to put a hand on Marvin’s shoulder, but the magician instantly shuffled away from him with caution racking his nerves. Jack tilted his head out of amusement at seeing the man’s reaction to him.

  “Everything alright? You seem quite…nervous.” The words slid out of his mouth with mockery. 

  Marvin jolted, staring at the man with a horrible hybrid of bewilderment and fright. Those words – those were the exact same words he had said to Lunette when he had seen how worried she had looked. But how could he –

  The man slowly took a wary step backward, keeping his eyes fixed on Jack. He shook his head, trying to convince himself this was all some sort of dream or trick. It wasn’t working.

“What – What the fuck is going on?!” He was having difficulty keeping his voice steady.

He couldn’t deny how disturbed he felt. Everything felt so vile and wrong. The air was tainted with something insidious and downright rotten. It felt like there were hundreds of pairs of eyes all trained on him and it wasn’t just coming from the audience or the Irishman standing before him. Something revolting had corrupted his sanctuary – his haven, his part of the void – and he swear he could feel this disease scratching at his flesh, longing to defile every inch of him until he’d become just as lost and deranged as everything else around him.

“W-Why are you dressed like that? Why was I bound to a chair?” He took a quick glance over to where Lunette had crawled backstage. “Why the fuck is Lunette like that?! Why the fuck is Tino some – some monstrous thing?! Why the fuck are my performers like that?!” He pointed to backstage, where low hisses and growls resounded. “What the fuck did you do?!” He demanded, nearly slipping over another piece of Lunette’s frozen meat.

Jack only chuckled, not being able to conceal his mirth, which in turn only caused Marvin to tense up all over.

“Oh come now, Marvin. There’s no need to be like that. I did you a favour – I fixed everything for you. I fixed them all for you! Besides, you shouldn’t fret. After all, it’s only a part of the show, ain’t that right folks?!” He exclaimed, lifting both of his arms as he twirled around to look back out at the audience.

Everyone cheered and clapped with enthusiasm in response. Marvin stood stunned, shaking his head as he backed away from the ringmaster.

“No…No, this is wrong. This is all wrong.” He shook his head vigorously. “You said you were going to help me with the show – you said you were going to help me with my act. And-And instead I wake up,” His breathing was coming out ragged now, panic showing itself as clear as day, “duct-taped to a chair, dazed out of my mind, to see one of my top performers literally in pieces in front of me, having her severed leg eaten away at by another one of my performers?!”

He took a fearful side-glance to where the other performers were lurking in the shadows backstage, immediately eyeing the colossal man from earlier who had seen squishing a woman’s flaccid corpse into a jar. He was currently screwing the lid down on it, the woman’s horrified expression pressed right up against the glass. Nausea came over the magician once again.

“And-And what about that?! What the fuck is that about?!” He shrieked, his heart nearly bursting out of his chest at seeing the man lock eyes with him.

Jack’s brows furrowed with question, leaning back a bit to see what Marvin was looking at. As soon as he saw the brutish beast, he chuckled with delight.

“Oh that’s Benson – you know that, Marv.” He giggled. “Oh if only you’d seen his act earlier, you would’ve loved it! The man really knows how to crush someone’s spine.”

Marvin whirled around to stare at the Irishman as though he were completely insane, his face paling considerably.

“W-What?” The word came out as a shaky whisper laced with disbelief. He briefly glanced back at the man who was known as Benson. “Th-That’s – ?”

Benson – the loving, caring, teddy-bear-of-a-strongman Benson? He shook his head slowly, pointing out the woman in the jar, shifting his attention back to Jack.

“A-And her…Is…Is she – ?” The question was right there, but he honestly felt like he was going to hurl if he even said the last word.

“Hmm?” Yet again, the green-haired ringmaster eyed what the magician was quivering about. He nudged him in the rib playfully. “Oh you know her too, Marvin, come on! Don’t you recognize Camilla when you see her?”

Now the magician was feeling severely lightheaded. Blood was not getting to his head fast enough and he genuinely was expecting to pass out cold in a moment. Camilla – the best contortionist in the show, known for flexing and manipulating her body in any which way imaginable. In the jar – that was –?

“Yeah, she’s dead, that one – dead as a doornail. It’s funny, she barely had any backbone and now she hasn’t got one at all.” He chuckled. “Although, I’ve got to say, after being submersed in formaldehyde,” He grinned, “she’s alive as ever on stage. Easy to bend and break.”

  That was enough for Marvin.

 “What the actual fuck, Jack?!” He shouted, shaking all over, feeling his eyes starting to sting with the need to tear up.

  It was at that moment when it hit him just how scared he truly was. He’d always felt safe around Jack before, he’d always felt at ease and could trust the man with anything and everything. But this...whoever or whatever was standing in front of him was leaving him deeply perturbed, nightmarish thoughts of what the man would do to him plaguing his mind.

The Irishman casted his sinister gaze back to the trembling magician, the most unkind smile still etched onto his face. He strode back over to him, causing Marvin to stumble back and nearly trip over his own feet. Unfortunately for him, Jack got to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close.

“I am helping, Marvin, you’re just not seeing it.” His creator insisted. He motioned out at the endless rows of people watching them. “Look at them and tell me you’re not pleased by their reactions. Tell me this isn’t the most you’ve gotten out of an audience!”

“No, NO! You’ve done something to them, I know you have!” Marvin fired back, twisting around uneasily in Jack’s hold and wanting nothing more but to escape it. “I don’t know why, I don’t know what’s going through your head, but all of this is your doing. You may have everyone else fooled, but not me.” He shook his head, grimacing at the Irishman. “There are only two explanations for all of this: Either this is a fucked up nightmare or you’re not Jack.”

The ringmaster suddenly threw his head back and let out the shrillest, bone-chilling laugh Marvin had ever heard come from the man, causing him to flinch away from Jack out of fright. Jack’s neck cracked loudly when he jerked his head, cold eyes boring into the magician’s.

“Oh this is real, Marv, I assure you of that. And it is me. I am Jack.” He leaned in uncomfortably close, his expression darkening. “You’re just now seeing the real me for the first time. And if you don’t believe me,” The corners of his lips pulled back into a toothy grin that immediately gave Marvin the impression he was about to devour him alive. Jack’s eyes widened with excitement, raising a brow, “I guess I will have to make every minute of this real for you.”

Marvin shrunk down in the Irishman’s hold, eyes as wide as saucers and fear seeping deep into his being. He felt like a child who was terrified of getting swallowed whole by a monster, and given the way Jack was acting, he wouldn’t be surprised if that ended up becoming true. With that, the demented ringmaster spun on his heel and pushed Marvin away, practically bounding up to the front of the stage, thrusting a hand up into the air.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come! The grand finale of the show! The moment you have all been waiting for! The one, the only,” He took a side-step, motioning backward to where Marvin stood a quivering, scared-to-the-core mess, “Marvin the Magnificent!”

 A roar of applause and cheers arose from the audience, everyone beyond thrilled to see the magic act – the one that had been hyped from the very beginning. Marvin didn’t know what to do at that point. Every fiber of his being was telling him to race off stage, bolt out of the tent, and leave his part of the void to find one of the other egos for help. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His performers were all backstage, surely watching his every move. Hell, the way Benson had looked at him clearly screamed that he wouldn’t hesitate to snap the poor ego like a twig and use his bones to pick his teeth. He wanted to leave, but he couldn’t. He was trapped. He’d have no choice but to go through with whatever Jack had planned. His worrisome gaze shifted from the audience to the ringmaster.

“Jack, this needs to stop. Please.” He tried, having a sliver of hope that maybe this was all some sick joke and Jack would drop the act in a minute.

Marvin’s plea went unnoticed by the Irishman, who still had his full attention on the viewers. The magician went to open his mouth to snap at him, only to nearly choke on his words at suddenly feeling a strange sensation beginning to tingle throughout his arms. He stiffened, casting his gaze downward to look at his arms. His face scrunched up with bewilderment. What the hell was that? It felt as though the inside of his arms were heating up. He rubbed at them gently, thinking nothing much of it. It was probably his nerves getting the better of him.

“Now as I had stated at the start of the show, Marvin here will be performing something that will surely blow your minds to smithereens!” He guaranteed joyfully.

Marvin took a brief glimpse up at him before he hissed through his teeth, jerking his arms in close to himself at feeling another surge of unexpected energy. He grimaced, staring down at his arms with more worry than question. There was a dull ache beginning to swell in his muscles, heat slowly but surely weaving through his veins. It wasn’t extremely painful, but agony was most certainly making itself at home. He groaned softly, pressing his fingers down on the skin and rubbing in slow circles in an attempt to soothe the pain. He looked back out at Jack.

“Jack.” He called out, hoping the man would turn and look at him.

Jack once again paid no attention to him, still taking pride in announcing to the audience of what would be happening.

“He will be performing a death-defying magic act for you all!” He said with a level of eagerness that would surely unnerve some people. He raised a finger. “But I know what you’re thinking: We’ve already seen so many death-defying acts tonight, so what makes this so special?”

Marvin parted his lips to call his name again, but nearly yelped when he felt searing pain erupt inside his arms, something throbbing up against his fingertips insistently. He jumped back, yanking his hands away from his arms out of alarm. He released a few quick shaken breaths as he looked at his arms, glancing from one to the other. He clenched his teeth in agony at feeling another jolt racing up and down his arms. What the hell was going on? His muscles, his tendons, his veins – everything felt abnormally hot all of sudden. Fire was growing inside at a rapid pace and it was really starting to hurt. The magician groaned in pain, eyeing the Irishman with equal parts annoyance and desperation.

“Jack.” He winced at feeling the scalding heat claw into his veins. “J-Jack, please. S-Something’s wrong.”

Still, the Irishman had yet to become aware of the magician’s condition.

 “Well I’ll tell you! Marvin is a magician – a real magician, I might add. And do you know what that means?” He paused, giving a moment for the audience to consider the question. “It means he’s practically immortal – death does not scare him! This mysterious cat-masked man can easily cheat death!” He giggled, clasping his hands together in a childish manner.

That caught Marvin’s attention instantly, his ears perking at the last sentence. He stared at Jack with perplexity and took a step forward to object.

“Wait, what?” He shook his head wildly. “J-Jack, I can’t – AHH!!”

The magician shut his eyes and stumbled back, gripping his arms tightly and nearly keeling over at the excruciating pain taking a hold of him. He hesitantly pried his eyes open, looking over his arms. They hurt so much he could barely even touch them without having imaginary flames eat away at his insides. He noticed how faint red patches were expanding in his skin, his veins bulging out and becoming prominent. They were throbbing fiercely, beating against his flesh almost as if they wanted out. He could barely hear Jack or the audience anymore; his heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that he could hear the blood rushing through his veins. He moaned out in agony at both feeling and seeing his veins flex and twitch beneath the skin. His breathing hitched at the sight, panic latching onto his back.

“Jack!” He yelled, his arms beginning to shake and convulse on their own. He groaned and whimpered loudly through his teeth, the urge to collapse to his knees becoming intense. “Please! L-Listen to me! Something’s wrong! My arms – something’s seriously wrong with my arms!” He pleaded, feebly trying to get the damn bastard’s attention.

  “Tonight, you will bear witness as a man overcomes the pain and suffering and faces Death himself!” Jack carried on, ignoring the magician’s pleas. “But do not fret! Do not fear! This is all one big act, everyone – just remember that! Besides,” He smirked, arms outstretched to either side, “he’s a magician! Magic will keep him safe. And we all believe in magic, don’t we?!”

Everyone cheered and whistled in agreement, ever-so ready to see this “mind-blowing” magic act in action. Meanwhile, Marvin’s breathing was coming out ragged and quick. He was pretty much hyperventilating at this point, cradling his arms close to his body and hunching over out of unbearable agony. Tears were welling up in his eyes, the red patches in his skin darkening and starting to blister. He yelped, dropping to his knees and curling in on himself; his arms shaking uncontrollably. He watched with terror in his eyes as his veins pulsated and pushed against his flesh, squirming inside his arms angrily. Something was calling out to them, an invisible force digging into his arms, wrapping its fingers around his veins, and tugging at them relentlessly. He suddenly snapped forward, arching his back as a helpless wail was ripped from his vocal cords. The patches were beet-red, the skin slowly starting to tear open.

“JACK!” Marvin screamed, a few tears running down his cheeks. “PLEASE!”

Finally the Irishman turned his head, dropping his arms at his sides. He released an exasperated sigh.

“What is it, Marv? Can’t you see I’m getting them worked up for you?” He said agitatedly as though he couldn’t even see the ego whimpering in pain. “And what’re you doing down there on the ground? You’ve got a magic act to perform!” He chortled in amusement, motioning for the magician to get up. “Come on, get up, Marv.” He laughed, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not like you’re a puppet; I can’t just get you to move at will!”

Marvin stared at him with tear-filled eyes, endless whimpers and pained moans crawling out of his throat. Jack dipped his head, peering at the suffering magician from under the brim of his hat. A dark otherworldly chuckle bubbled out from deep within his throat, leering at the ego with an inhumanly unsympathetic smirk curling at his lips. His cold eyes flashed vibrant neon green.

  “Or can I?” His voice – it was sharp as a knife’s edge but rough and coarse as though his throat had been torn apart and poorly put back together from scratch.

It was the stuff of a child’s worst nightmare. Everything was.

Ruthlessly a malignant force ripped into Marvin’s arms and tore his veins out, the blood vessels bursting through the flesh and shooting up to the rafters; latching onto them possessively. String after string jetted out, tearing at the magician’s flesh as they escaped in intermingled pairs. A geyser of thick crimson red erupted, splattering all over the ego as well as the stage and a few people down in the front rows. A horrifying, bloodcurdling scream wrenched its way out of the man’s vocal cords, snapping his head back as he was hauled to his feet by his own veins. He hung there, arms pulled up above his head with thin strips of torn flesh hanging limp. Streams of blood ran down both arms, painting them in a hot crimson as he wriggled and squirmed helplessly; crying out in insufferable pain. Everyone in the front rows who had gotten sprayed gasped in horror, quite a few letting out hair-raising shrieks. The psychotic ringmaster cackled wildly at the gory display, one moment laughing at the strung-up ego, the next facing the audience with his arms splayed out.

“Astounding, ain’t it folks?! Guess he really is a puppet!” He chortled, looking over the blood-spattered audience members. “Oh, right, I probably should’ve warned you all about that. Things tend to become a bloody mess from time to time here at the carnival.”

Marvin’s pained screams carried on, his cheeks wet with both his own blood and tears. He couldn’t stop if he wanted to – the agony and horror he was experiencing were far too extreme to handle.

“WHY?!” He managed to cry out, still writhing around where he was situated.

The deranged Irishman cocked his head to the side as he began to approach him, the depraved smile still carved into his face. He raised a brow out of mock wonder.

“Why?” He scoffed and shrugged. “Why not? Never hurts to have a bit of fun, Marv.” He pointed an accusing finger at him. “It’s your show, after all – your act. Your time to shine, Mr. Magnificent!” He inched closer, tilting his head to the other side with a cringe-inducing crack producing from his neck. “And I must say, I am enjoying the show so far.”

  Marvin shook his head quickly. “N-No, NO! S-Stop it!” He sobbed, a whimper slipping past his trembling lips. “Y-You’re not Jack – YOU’RE NOT JACK!” He looked out to the crowd pleadingly. “HELP ME! PLEASE!”

 No one bothered to move or get up, everyone remained seated, all smiling and talking to one another about how the magician managed to make his veins explode out of his arms and how “amazing” it was that he was still alive. The green-haired YouTuber only chuckled at his pathetic cries, his eyes darkening sinisterly. He placed a hand on one of Marvin’s shoulders as he stared at him.

“Oh I’m Jack alright, Marvin.”

“NO YOU’RE NOT!”

The Irishman couldn’t contain his mirth, an eerie childish giggle bubbling out of his throat – a throat which was now slit open and bleeding, Marvin noted with gut-wrenching dismay.

“Yes I am, Marv. It’s like I told you – you’re just now seeing the real me for the first time. You can call me ‘Anti-Jack’, if you’d like. ‘Anti’, if it helps.” His smile faltered, his eyes growing darker as he leaned in close to the broken ego. “I control the void, I’m the god of this world.” He moved a hand up to constrict one of Marvin’s veins, not caring how blood seeped into his glove. The magician immediately let out a shrill scream at the pain. “I created you and the others. I created all of this.” He slowly tilted his head, his voice softened to an unnerving level. “You haven’t seen me in a whole year…If I can manipulate everything in here, then has it ever crossed your mind that maybe I could change my own appearance as well?”

Marvin panted and whimpered, released a strangled groan as he eyed the man in front of him. He no longer saw Jack anymore – he knew for a fact he wasn’t meeting the eyes of his creator. Everything this man was saying could not be true, it just couldn’t be. But deep down in the pit of his stomach, the ego knew he was lost in a state of denial and it scared him beyond comprehension.

  “W-Why?” He snivelled, tears blurring his vision. “Why are you doing this to me?!”

 “Because, Marvin, I can. Because you said it yourself,” The evil toothy smile was creeping across his face again, “you’re a broken ego who held onto a hopeless belief that you were a ‘one-time thing’.” Though he was smiling, the change in tone of voice did not go unnoticed by the magician. The last few words – he seemed to hiss them through his teeth with resentment, like the words were disgusting for him to get out. “And that’s exactly what you were: a one-time thing.” He took a step back, releasing his hold on the man’s veins. “So what am I going to do with a useless, waste-of-space like yourself?” He snickered. “I’m going to put you to good use: Give the people the show they’ve been waiting for!”

With that, he turned to face the audience with a wide, jack o-lantern-like grin.

  “Behold! A man dangling from his own strings!” He exclaimed with sadistic delight, running a finger down one of Marvin’s veins, which only caused the man to cringe and yelp. That finger quickly moved to out in front of him, like he was about to add onto what he just said. “But that’s not all, folks! As astonishing as it is, this isn’t all that our magnificent Marvin has planned for you. So hold onto your hats! The best part of the show is about to begin!”

The crowd went wild at hearing that. Marvin, on the other hand, didn’t know how this could possibly get any worse, and he honestly didn’t want to know. He shut his eyes and shook his head, repeatedly pleading for the man to end the madness and return everything to normal. But of course, the demonic ringmaster didn’t listen. He raised an arm and glanced over to somewhere backstage, watching as a woman dressed in black – resembling a spider what with having six arms and eight red eyes – appeared on stage, wheeling a tray of all sorts of knives and daggers up to the evil Jack – Anti. Seeing through the unsightly defects, Marvin could’ve sworn she resembled the tightrope walker, Gwen. Anti swiped a decent-sized dagger off of the tray and twirled it between his fingers.

“You’ve seen knife-throwing acts before,” He stopped the blade, holding it by the tip, “but have you ever seen a living target take the damage and survive?” With no warning whatsoever, Anti swivelled around and flung the dagger directly at the suspended magician, the blade sinking deep into his gut.

On cue, the ego snapped his head back and let out a horrific scream, wiggling like a worm on a hook, more tears cascading from his eyes. He could feel the dagger’s edge slicing into his insides with every move he made, cutting away at his meat and organs without mercy. His head fell forward, watching a bloody patch beginning to spread across his clothing.

  “P-PLEASE! Please, stop!” He begged pitifully.

Anti’s giggled with the utmost disturbing amount of pleasure the magician had ever heard, causing his skin to crawl.

“Stop? Now why would I want to do that?” He took a glimpse at the audience. “Isn’t he a funny one – acting like he’s actually in pain and wanting help?!”

  The crowd laughed right along with him as he turned to the tray, scanning through his options. He hummed with thought before grasping a knife with a jagged edge, eyeing the magician, and firing the blade at his left shoulder. It drove deep into the meat, impaling his shoulder and jutting out an inch away from where his heart was. Yet again, Marvin wavered, wailing out in pure unadulterated agony, tugging on his arms even though that only made matters worse. He could taste copper exploding in his mouth, blood starting to bubble up inside his throat. He choked, violently coughing up a mouthful of his life force.

  “S-STOP! Please, Jack!” He gurgled, thin streams of crimson dribbling out of his mouth.

Anti only laughed at the man’s pathetic begging, a gleam of amazement bursting in his hellish eyes at seeing more blood arise out of the ego. He hastily strode up to him.

“You see, everyone? Strung up by his veins and taking blades one by one. Any normal human being would surely be dead from the amount of pain and blood loss, but not our dear ol’ Marvin the Magnificent here!” He cackled, coiling his gloved fingers around the handle of the knife wedged into the magician’s shoulder.

  “You can poke and prod, twist and turn,” He said this with a sick growl in his voice, eyes fixed onto Marvin as he pushed the blade in further. He began rotating it slowly, deliberately making the knife brutalize the man’s insides. Marvin howled at the torture, “carve at the meat and drain the sauce,” The octaves in his voice deepened unnaturally, sending chills up and running through Marvin’s body, “and he will still remain standing!”

Marvin jolted, practically drowning in his own bodily fluid. He lurched forward, a torrent of blood spluttering out of him. He coughed and sobbed, hanging his head in defeat. He was mumbling something, but it was so quiet, the ringmaster could barely hear him. He smirked and nudged him.

  “Hmm? Did you say something?”

“P-Pwleese…”

“Speak up, Marv. We can’t hear you.” The demon laughed.

  Marvin lifted his head and stared at him with pleading eyes red from his endless crying.

  “P-Pwleese…Pwleese, kwill mey.” He bemoaned, choking on his blood at trying to speak. More tears clouded his vision. His bottom lip trembled as he shook his head, a few lone tears running astray. “Pwleese, kwill mey, ‘ack, ‘m bwegging ya.”

Anti grinned deviously and leaned in close to him, no sign of remorse or empathy on his face. Anti’s earlier speech had been accurate – Marvin was facing Death himself.

“Oh come now, Marvin, you know I can’t do that. Look at your audience!” He motioned out to the sea of people watching the show. “Don’t be selfish! You wouldn’t want to disappoint them, now would you?”

  Marvin went to say something only to cough and hack harshly, another gross mouthful of blood bursting forth. Anti got a kick out of that and jumped back so as to not get any on his outfit. He raced back over to the tray, directing his attention down to his options.

   “Hmm…” He hummed with thought as he scanned through the collection of knives. “Which one, which one?” His fingertips danced along the glistening blades with excitement, a sickening amount of delight shining bright in those dark eyes.

His victim’s whimpers, pleas, and moans of gut-wrenching agony carried on as he writhed and swayed, endless tears racing down his cheeks. The poor magician could barely breathe and could’ve sworn his vision was starting to fade, what with how much blood he was losing.

“Pwleese! Pwle-Pwleese!” He spluttered, blood bubbling out of his mouth as he begged. “Pwleese, s-stawp!”

Anti’s finger stopped on one of the knives and grasped it, lifting it by the blade before eyeing the suspended man. He smirked as a chuckle was heard coming from deep within his slashed throat.

“The head’s a delicate thing, Marv. It holds the most crucial organ.” A sadistic grin spread across his face.

He went to roll up one of his sleeves before proceeding to run the knife along his wrist, cutting deep. He didn’t express any sort of pain, merely watched as both blood and a black substance surfaced and coated the blade. He lifted the knife, watching a thick trail of black run down the blade.

“I wonder,” His eyes shot back to the magician, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips, “Can I penetrate through it from here?” He giggled maniacally as he raised the knife and aimed directly for the center of Marvin’s head.

“What’s there to be afraid of? It’s all one big magic act, isn’t it, Marv? You’ll be good as new – kept together by magic! And you believe in magic,” His head jerked in an unnatural way, his eyes flickering black as sin. His grin sent ice through Marvin’s veins, “don’t you?”

He fired the knife, Marvin shut his eyes, and an explosion of pain burst through his brain.

A bloodcurdling scream rang in his ears as all he saw was black, his entire body convulsing out of terror.

“Marvin?! MARVIN!”

He screamed again, his eyes snapping open in alarm; quick, racked breaths expelling from his lips. He staggered backward, his hands trembling and fingers uncoiling from something; a clang coming from the floor beneath him. He jumped at the sound, his gaze darted down to see a saw laying at his feet. He stared out at the audience, taking note of their expressions. None of them were laughing, cheering, or applauding. No one was splattered with his blood either. Everyone looked stunned and confused, more so the former. Confusion wracking his brain, his gaze travelled downward to see a decorative oblong box in front of him, a woman encased inside, looking up at him with the same level of shock as the audience. Releasing a shaky breath, he lifted his hands, staring at them with bewilderment. There was no blood, there wasn’t any torn flesh, and there was absolutely no pain whatsoever. Even when he went to look upon his person, there weren’t any knives sticking out.

He was completely fine – completely untouched.

“Marvin?”

He jolted at feeling someone touch him. He immediately jumped back and snapped his head to see who – or what – had their hand on his arm. It was Lunette. She wasn’t a frozen cripple anymore; she looked as angelic as she had before. Her brows were furrowed and her big blue eyes were wide with not just shock but concern more than anything.

Marvin stared at her wide-eyed, stunned, taking a good long moment to fully take in how she had all of her limbs intact and wasn’t cracking. He jerked his head, taking glances at the people backstage. All of his performers – they were all completely fine. They weren’t covered in stitches or growths. No one had extra appendages protruding from their bodies. Benson looked like the giant teddy-bear-like man Marvin knew him as, stared at the magician with appalment. Camilla was standing upright beside him with her hands clasped over her mouth in shock, no longer dead and compacted into a jar of formaldehyde. Little Tino was huddled close to Benson’s leg, his facial expression one of worry, holding a puppy in his arms for comfort.

Marvin stared at each and every one of them with equal parts confusion and realization. He tore his gaze away, looking down at his feet as he tried to process what had just happened. He noticed how he was still shaking, his heart racing wildly in his chest. He lifted his head and looked past Lunette out to the back of the stage. His eyes widened when he saw a familiar green-haired man, who was frozen in place, stared back at the magician with the same level of shock as everyone else. Almost immediately Marvin felt a wave of rage come crashing down on him.

Without saying a word to anyone, not even to his audience, the magician stormed off stage, bee-lining straight for his creator. Lunette didn’t know what to do. She looked from him, to the audience, then back to him, darting after him.

“Marvin? Marvin, what’s wrong?” She tried, hoping he’d speak to her. If there was anyone who’d get him to talk, it’d be her.

Marvin barely even heard her. He barely even heard one of the others go out on stage to announce how he wasn’t feeling well and would instead perform the next night. He didn’t care about any of it at that moment. All he did care about was confronting the man who had literally just put him through his worst nightmare.

He pushed past all of the other performers and marched up to Jack, glaring at him with a terrifying expression that read that he wanted to actually kill the bastard. Jack only looked at him with innocent confusion, raising his hands in defence as he began backing away.

“Marvin? Wait, hold on. What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly. “What happened out there?”

  “Why don’t you tell me, you sick son of a bitch?!” Marvin barked, shoving the Irishman violently backward and into his dressing room.

He heard everyone gasp from behind him, followed by Lunette hurrying up to his side. “Marvin!”

“Leave us be, Lunette.” He said as he went to step into his dressing room. He turned to look at her, his eyes dark with anger. “I need to talk with Jack for a moment.”

Lunette lifted a finger and went to object, but didn’t get a say in the matter. Marvin immediately shut the door and turned to the shaken Irishman, who genuinely looked beyond confused and fearful. He’d never seen Marvin act this way before.

“Marvin, I don’t under –”

“Shut the fuck up.” The magician hissed harshly, instantly silencing the YouTuber. Marvin strode up to him, boring his eyes into the man. “What the actual FUCK? What the actual FUCK was that?!”

Jack blinked out of further confusion. He shook his head. “Wha –?”

“Oh don’t you dare act like you don’t know what just happened a moment ago. Don’t you DARE fucking pull the innocent act with me!” Marvin flared. “You know

exactly what you did! You know what you did, you sick fuck! I know it was you!” His eyes were beginning to water, getting worked up at reminders of the horror he had just been put through. He jabbed an accusing finger at the worrisome Irishman. “I know it was you, I know it was!”

Jack raised his hands once again out of defence. “Marvin, I don’t understand. You’re not making any sense.” He confessed, genuinely very concerned for the ego at this point. “What did I do?”

“Bullshit! You know what you did!”

Jack shook his head wildly, searching the magician’s tear-blurred eyes for an answer. He could see fear as clear as day in those eyes and it was putting a pit in his stomach.

“Marvin, I swear, I have no idea what you’re talking about. And quite frankly, you’re scaring me.”

  Marvin scoffed, chuckling lightly out of disbelief. He pointed at himself as he tilted his head. “I’m scaring you? Me?” He shook his head, a few tears leaving his eyes as he tore his mask off of his head and threw it over onto his vanity.

  “Marvin, talk to me. What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “You fucking tortured me, that’s what happened!” Marvin snapped suddenly, causing the Irishman to reel back out of fright. “You changed everything! You twisted and turned all of this – my carnival, my haven, my safe place – in a goddamn house of horrors! You mutated every one of my performers into fucking monsters from Hell! You,” He got right up in the green-haired man’s space, jabbing a finger at him, “You strung me up by my veins,” His hand was trembling, tears flooding his eyes at the horrific memory.

Flashes of him dangling by his veins and having knives thrown at him came to him so suddenly he felt physically ill, like he’d vomit in a second.

“Y-You used me as a fucking puppet,” He sobbed, fear clouding his eyes, “you th-threw knives at me, pushing them further in, all while the goddamn audience applauded and laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen,” His lip was quivering as he spoke, “and you didn’t care. You didn’t fucking care.”

Jack was staring at him as though he had gone completely mad, bothered by everything he was hearing.

“What? I – wait, wait, hold up. I did what to you?” He blinked in shock and disturbance. He shook his head. “Marvin, none of that happened. I didn’t do anything to you.”

“Lies!” Marvin shouted. “You fucking liar! I know what I saw! I know what I felt!”

Jack shook his head furiously, moving his hands in a way to signal Marvin to calm down. “Marvin, please, calm down. I swear, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” He searched the man’s eyes for understanding. “Everything you just told me,” He shook his head again, “none of that happened.”

Marvin went to object, about to put the Irishman in his place, but Jack didn’t give him a chance.

“Look, I came to you and suggested helping with your act. You shot me down and went out on stage to open the show. You were dead set on performing your ‘sawing someone in half’ trick and I didn’t argue with you. So I let you go to do it. I stayed backstage with everyone else, watching you greet everyone.” He explained everything the way he remembered it playing out. “You were given the saw and were about to start cutting, but you just suddenly froze up. And before any of us knew it, you were standing there, screaming and crying as though you were being murdered.”

Marvin didn’t say anything; he just stood there staring at his creator with perplexity fogging his mind. Jack inched forward cautiously, afraid of the magician snapping at him or giving in to an act of violence.

“Marvin,” He looked deep into his eyes, “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t warp your part of the void.” His brows furrowed. “Why would I ever do such a horrible thing like that to you?” He said it perturbed, feeling incredibly dirty at the very thought of doing something so malicious.

 Marvin stared at him for a prolonging moment before backing away from him, shaking his head.

“No, no, I know what I saw – I know what I went through, Jack. I know what I saw and I know what I felt.”

“But Marvin –”

“And I don’t care what you say. Say whatever you want but I won’t believe you.” He grimaced, the hatred returning home. “You said I was a broken ego, that I was useless. You – You mocked me and my magic.” He growled. “And I’m going to show you – I’m going to show you and everyone else that I’m not useless, that I am a real magician, mark my words! I will prove it!”

The magician suddenly felt a dull ache come from behind his eyeballs and he groaned, shutting his eyes tightly and lifting a hand to rub at his head. Jack tilted his head, moving to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, are…are you alright?” He asked with genuine concern lacing every word.

 Marvin grunted and slapped his hand away. “No, no I’m not fine. I just went through hell and back, and now,” He groaned again, “my head is killing me.”

Jack hummed with thought. “Maybe you should lie down and rest for a bit.”

Marvin reopened his eyes and glared at the Irishman. “Piss off. I don’t need you telling me what to do.” Another pang of pain erupted behind his eyes, causing him to wince and stagger over to his vanity. “Now get the fuck out.”

Jack was going to object, but immediately thought against it. He knew just how angry Marvin was and how the magician spited him, and given the way he was acting, he knew there wasn’t a chance in hell of getting through to the man. He merely sighed softly, nodded, and left the room without a word. A small smirk played at his lips for half a second as he shut the door behind him.

Marvin stood hunched over his vanity, hands firmly placed on top with his head bowed down. He really needed rest – he felt exhausted beyond words. After everything he’d gone through, it was understandable why. He moaned in pain, opening his eyes and lifting his head to look at his reflection in the mirror. His brows furrowed at seeing a small speck of something wet and black in the corner of his right eye.

“What the –?”

He lifted a hand and went to touch the glob, grabbing onto it and slowly pulling it back. A thin string of black stretched out until he yanked it from his eyes entirely. He looked it over with disgust, not understanding what it was. He shook it off of his hand, groaning at feeling the pain worsen in his head. He glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the bed off in the corner.

The Irishman’s idea didn’t seem like such a bad idea now.

 Part 14 - You've Waited A Long Time

Part 16 - Curious I See

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