turbinewreath

[turbinewreath]

The Circus

The circus looked as you would imagine, a giant tent of red and yellow pitched high with a ring in the middle for performance. And what a performance it is. A man with a panicked look jumps through a hoop of flames that lick at him, while a thing chases him. The thing looked like something took a human and stretched it, and gave it claws. The man trips over the hoop, the crowd cheers, they laugh. They laugh so hard they begin to cry, hundreds seemingly uncountable enjoying his peril.

The thing grabs the man and begins to rip him apart. Everyone begins cheering, even those so far back in the crowd where they couldn’t possibly have seen the spectacle clap and jeer. Luckily, depending on how you look at it, Riley is close enough to see it. Close enough to hear the screams of the man among the cheering crowd and the ceaseless organ being spun. The screams make her laugh harder than before. When they end and nothing is left of the performer, she sits with a smile spread across her face.

The ringmaster steps up in front of the audience and stands on a platform. He has the typical attire of a ringmaster, that red suit and top hat. He also had on a mask, completely black except for a smile which curled around the mask in a spiral. That begs the question, if it is a spiral how can one tell it's a smile? Oh, the audience can tell, they can see how the ringmaster is just as excited, just as happy as they are.

The ringmaster waves an arm and calls into the audience, “Are you entertained?” His voice is not above a speaking volume, but his words rebound throughout the tent. Riley cheers, why of course she did! The rings were such a small challenge to overcome, making it a comedy that the man couldn’t get through. And his screams! Oh, they were just comedy gold, you could hear how the last bit of energy he had was used to uselessly scream.

“Now, time for our next performer.” The organ tune crescendos as a spotlight begins to circle the crowd. A cold fear flows through Riley as the light passes over her, she sighs as it continues. The tune continues to get louder. Then the spotlight darts back over Riley’s head. And it doesn’t move. Riley doesn’t smile. She isn’t having fun anymore. This feeling enters her, certainty that she must do something.

She stands, everyone claps. Some point and laugh, this is the next performer? Her? This might be good. Maybe she’ll scream louder, maybe she’ll last longer. Or maybe we’ll be finding another performer very quickly. Riley wants to leave now, she’s been in the circus for...she can’t remember how long, and now she wants to leave. But she knows she needs to enter the ring, she knows she must perform.

Her heartbeat races faster than it ever has before as she steps into a ring of sand. The ringmaster says something, Riley doesn’t pay much attention, she can’t with how nervous she is. She could run, she realizes. Just leave the ring, run out the doors, leave this circus that never ends. Then she wonders why no one had ever done that before, and she knows the answer is that every performer performs, it’s in the name afterall.

The ringmaster walks over to Riley. She shuffles backwards away, but not far enough to stop him. He puts something in her mouth, metallic and small. It’s a spoon with an egg on its other end. Oh, an egg race, that’s what she’ll be doing, great. The tune gets louder, had she never noticed how loud it got earlier? The ringmaster is probably saying something about how if she drops the egg something bad will happen, but the organ grinds too loud and Riley feels like she can’t hear anything else.

Something entered the ring. It looked like Riley, but its arms were longer with more elbows than they should. It had her head, but it bounced like a bobblehead and that spiral smile wrapped around its face. The spiral mouth opened as it laughed at Riley. The crowd’s laughing is barely audible over the organ turning faster, the tune picking up in speed. Riley could feel her heartbeat matching the pace of the organ pipes, but she didn’t move. Tension built between her and the thing, one waiting for the other to move first.

The egg wobbled on the spoon. Riley felt herself steady, she felt herself focus. After seeing so many performances, she knew this was life or death, and in her experience performances tend to end in the latter, in fact she’d never seen a performer live. But what else can she do? Let this mockery of her face kill her without a fight? The thing continued to laugh as they both waited for the other to move. Riley wanted to live, and she felt guilty for all the others she had laughed at, smiled at their suffering.

The smiling mimic cuts off its laugh with a gnash of its teeth. Its limbs flail at Riley, arms criss crossing each other, bending with inhuman joints. Riley ran, trying to balance the infertile chicken fetus on her spoon. Sand splashed as the thing’s arms hit the grains and began to slither across the ground, its head bouncing wildly as it ran towards Riley. With how its head moved, the thing wasn’t fast, but its arms were so long it could reach almost half the ring.

The tempo of the organ gained even more speed. Riley ran with an animalistic fervor, but with enough sense to still try to keep the damn egg on her spoon. Riley could feel the sand shift behind her, knowing that the monster’s arms were right there. Riley had a plan, or a facsimile of one, she would just stay to the edge of the ring. As she ran, she saw the ringmaster on the outside of the ring, waving at her with a silent ‘you’re doing a great job.’ She cursed him in her mind.

Then the thing stopped moving, the tune became quieter and slower, and Riley stopped running. She caught her breath in this odd moment of calm. She didn’t know why everything had slowed, but she would use whatever she could. The thing also seemed to stop laughing, and the audience seemed to be stifling their own laughter. “Look alive, idiot!” some audience member jeered at her.

She felt the fear enter her before she felt the hand around her ankle. The thing’s arms had gotten longer somehow. The thing began laughing harder than before, and the crowd began to cheer and laugh. Riley gave a closed mouth scream, keeping the spoon in her mouth. Her first reaction was to try to hurt the thing grabbing her, so she stomped down on the arm. She felt and heard something snap as her foot hit the monster’s lanky arm. It screamed and the crowd cheered louder than they had been before.

Life re-entered Riley’s body. This thing was fragile, its body too big to support itself. She could hurt it. Riley runs right at the thing, which is still reeling in pain. Sweat pours down her face as the tune picks up again, quicker and louder than ever before. A growl escapes from her throat as she grabs the platform in the middle of the ring and chucks it at the thing, which has begun laughing again. The platform hits the thing, causing its head to bounce wildly and for it to fall over.

With a ferocity she had never known before, Riley grabs the podium and begins to bash in the head of the fake Riley. Each time she smashes it, the thing laughs harder, and Riley begins to scream out in anger louder.

Smack, the tune picks up.

Smack, the thing laughs through blood pooling in its mouth.

Smack, Riley’s throat tears with how loud she screams.

Smack, the thing stops moving. Riley continues to beat its head in, despite the fact that it has stopped moving. After another five sickening crunches, Riley takes a moment to breathe. The crowd is laughing. Why are they laughing? Riley just killed a monster, they should be cheering, and why has the music become so quiet she almost can’t hear it?

She realizes what she’s done, her heart fills with ice. She brings her hand up to her empty mouth. There’s no spoon in her mouth. When had she? Why hadn’t she noticed? Her heart feels like it’s stopped and she feels as if she’s going to puke, as she slowly turns her head. On the ground lies a broken egg, a spoon nearby. Riley begins to shake her head, she begins to cry.

How could she be so stupid? How could she do something so stupid? She stands and does the only thing she can think of, run. She runs for the exit, which she’s never seen but she knows must be there. The organ picks back up and the audience becomes overcome with so much laughter it almost hurts Riley’s ears. She runs and runs and she gets to the edge of the ring and something grabs her. To the joy of the audience, she screams for her life. An arm wraps around her and drags her backstage.

The audience laughs and the organ plays a haughty tune as Riley disappears behind curtains. They love it, what a great performance! As the spotlight turns on again, the audience hopes that the next performer will be just as good, or even better. And they all have that fear, that perhaps they will be next, but they continue to smile despite that gut wrenching dread. For this circus never ends, and everyone will one day perform.

[turbinewreath]

What, your favorite celebrity/creator hasn't weighed their heart against a feather in front of mighty Anubis? Why not? What are they scared of? What are they hiding? Seems kind of problematic.

[turbinewreath]

The Knocking Tree

I was walking in the woods,

And when passing a tree

I heard knocking

The tree was like any ordinary tree.

It bubbled from diseases,

And in parts the bark had been stripped away by deer.

The knocking was a sporadic and unfocused thing,

Lacking in rhythm and melody.

I am a man of logic.

I knew that the knocking was the wind,

Or that it was a bird, pecking at the tree.

So I returned home.

I was once again walking,

When I heard it a second time.

A rapping on a tree.

The tree was like any other tree.

It reached toward the sky,

And its branches lacked leaves.

The knocking was a loud and powerful thing,

Loud enough to be heard for miles, yet it only sounded when I drew near.

I am a man of reason.

There must be an explanation for why this knocking came when I neared.

I must be disturbing some thing of nature.

So I yet again returned home, quickly this time.

I walked my usual path,

And like the other times

I heard a knocking.

The tree seemed average.

It had lichen dotting its skin,

And knots perforating its flesh

The knocking was a dark and purposeful thing,

It had a harmful intent with each knock on the wood, as if to lure me with curiosity.

I am a man of feeling.

A stirring came within me of great discomfort,

Despite how the tree tried to dissuade my notions.

So, I ran back home.

I was walking to the tree

When I heard for what I searched,

An unmelodious, strong, intentful knocking.

The tree was not normal.

It had hung itself and left a bounty to eat.

To eat within its womb.

The knocking was how it had always been,

Beautiful like a mothball mother’s enchanting hymn.

I am a man who knocks.

Upon a tree.

Upon a tree.