Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This is mainly based on the Twisted Carnival fnaf Fangame but I added my twists to it, go check out Twisted Carnival on Gamejolt if you want, it's a very cool concept!

This will work similarly to the Fazbear Frights series, there will be a oneshot followed by a snippet of the main storyline.

I am accepting Oneshot suggestions as well if you guys have any and I'll credit you if I use it.

my TDS universe is a bit different, I have multiple commanders and multiple teams of towers, so there can be duplicates of everybody, just not duplicate bosses like the Fallen King, Umbra, Etc...

you can requeat ship oneshots as well, not too good at writing ships but I'll try my best

I'll try my best to write OCs as well if you guys want me to add your oc in this.

if you wanna write ur own version of this, all I ask is that u please credit me

thanks!

Chapter list

1- Log 00: Prelude

2- Log 01: Interference

3- Log 02: Karma

Chapter Text

The Hallow's Eve Carnival, equal parts horror, equal parts fun, equal parts magic. A yearly attraction that visits the town of Stronghold once a year lasting through the entire month of October. As well as attracting the regular townspeople to join the spooky festivities, it also attracted the attention of members from a rather large military group, known as Towermen, or just Towers, dedicated to purgung zombies and other strange monsters that threatened the livelihood of the world. The carnival to them provides some much needed seasonal fun, a nice change from their normal downtime activities.

It had everything. Arcades, animatronic bands as well as live ones, circus shows, magic booths, as much strange fried food and cheap beer that one could want, carnival games, and more. Even going as far as capturing one of the molten monsters that very few Commanders employed, and letting people ride on its back for a small fee. It was truly the place to be and many even travelled to Stronghold just to participate in it early before it stayed in another part of the state for a month. It was a popular date site for couples, a hangout place for friends, something for families to do.

However, over the past couple of years, the carnival had started to fall into a state of disrepair, rides malfunctioning, exposed wiring causing electrical fires, and unlucky encounters with employees who couldnt be bothered to give half a shit anymore among other issues.

Yet it still came, and people still went. if at least for a change of pace in the world ruled by a never-changing schedule.

With the disrepair, came certain incidents, some funnier than others. Something as simple as the Grave Digger breaking a chair and falling on the ground, the great Umbra losing to an Executioner in an axe-throwing competition because she fell through the dilapidated wooden floor mid-throw, or something worse, a Golden class Scout contracting severe food poisoning from the very questionable salad bar and dying not even a week later, the Frost Spirit as well contracting some rare parasite after getting dunked into an algae-ridden pool. several people had found a fried rat in their food as well

Many argued for the carnival to be shut down, medics were working everyday nonstop to help quickly cure towers who had come down with something or hurt themselves, there could be no lapse in numbers. The medics were the first to attempt to bar the towers from going to the carnival, they still went, they didn't care, they thought it couldn't happen to them.

Commanders tried to bar their troops from going, but only so they didn't have to wait in such long lines. troops easily saw through the lies of their superiors and all went anyway.

Below himself stepped in at some point but quickly overturned the rule after many sounds of protest and anger

The final nail in the coffin of random cases, the incident which rocked the entire town and propelled conspiracy theories and other scary stories was a case of 5 youngsters sneaking in after dark, all 5 were never found again, the only thing left was a bloody eyeball somewhere behind a trash can covered in the typical weird blsck grease that seemed to hang around the carnival.

Stronghold didn't have a police systerm per say, the Towers acted as the police there. There could be nothing done about it and the few that even cared to look were passed by, their jobs made harder as there was little evidence to go by to aid the missing persons case. Such is the way of the Towermen and the current state of things.

As it was, many people usually went missing at around the October timeframe, it could just be coincidence.

the incident was passed quickly in favor of festivities before the worst seasons started. Already there was the looming threat of a new boss enemy lurking near, all everybody wanted to do is forget about it all.

The show must go on, after all.
_____________________

Feathers ruffled from the A/C blowing inside the office, claws sharpened to perfection. a Commander sat at their desk, one of the many non-human species in the military. They took a long drag out of their cigarette before extinguishing it on their ashtray, reading the missing persons cases as well as casualties. A Golden class Minigunner had somehow caught Kuro and died after visiting the carnival, an intriguing case, a new one to add to the pile of mystery.

Across the Commander sat the Fallen King, in a shorter form. It was taboo for bosses to be inside bases but the Commander didn't care, they trusted the king to not do anything, just as the king trusted the commander to keep them safe.

The two decided to go to the carnival together, at the least to investigate.
_____________________

"So maybe since the economy is going tits-up and theres shortages of everything. they're usin' human meat for the food, and that's why so many of us keep on dissapearin'!" The sharp voice of the Ranger cut through the cold, dark night, only made better by the small campfire the friend group was huddled around, consisting of Ranger, Scout, Slasher, and Accelerator.

They had decided to roast hot dogs and share their carnival theories together, while camping close to the carnival grounds in case something happened they didn't have anything to do that day nor tomorrow as it is.

Scout tightly wrapped his blanket around him in an effoet to conserve body heat as the wind breifly picked up, raking icy claws over the group and threatening to snuff out the fire, he considered the Ranger's theory before piping in with his own "Couldnt possibly be! Isn't human meat very salty anyway? Besides that, I don't think it's quite healthy... Besides, I heard that they had to doslodge an eyeball from one of the animatronics there, the rabbit one!"
"Hah! I think you've been playing WAY too many of those Freddy games!" The voice of the Shredder seemed a bit too loud for such a quiet place, excitement barely contained within the ex-assassin "I personally think that they're just trapping people to sell off to the fucking black market, Raffy is right, the economy fucking sucks, but they won't sell human meat, not with every health inspector in this godforsaken state riding their ass. We'd tell if they were cramming people into the robots as well, they did in Freddy's..."

"Maybe its just a shitty carnival with bad luck. As boring as it sounds, could all be plausible and sounds more realistic than what you three have been saying." the Accelerator took a bite out of the roasted sausage before continuing "Besides Simon, you of all people should know that the black market hates even going near Stronghold."

The small group of four didnt notice the heavy flapping of wings and the creaking of branches as they took on weight. they didn't notice their new commander dtaring at them from the treelines, and they certainly didnt notice the still human sized Fallen King who was more stealthily hiding in a tree behind the commander.

As the Commander glided to the ground, landing with a dull thud, all four turned around, drawing their weapons in case it was someting dangerous or some weird carnival cryptid from another person's theory.

All collectively let our a sigh of relief at finding out it was just the commander, the Fallen king snuck past and went to go wait at the front entrance of the carnival.

Without saying a word, the Commander nodded at the group before taking off again, flying the short distance that their broken wings could help them fly before coming to a stop right neat the exit.

"You sure you want to do this?" The Fallen King nervously asked his companion. He didn't like to admit that yes, he was actually a tiny bit afraid of the carnival and the recent cases that had come out.

The Commander looked at the entrance sign, as if trying to convince themselves of their own courage. "Yes, I think I have to do this Cyrus, at least to find out if anything illegal is going on..."

The two stuck close together, unconsciously holding each other's hand as they ventured forth into the pseudo-Hell.

Maybe, just maybe they should've kept Cyrus out of this, he didn't need this. Brushing off that thought, locking everything negative behind a mental wall, the Commander steeled their resolve and committed to solving the mystery that laid beyond, braving the Nightmare Carnival.

Chapter Text

Sledger was a simple man, he went by the name Grizzrinn but preferred Sledger, one of the only two sons of the Frost Spirit, otherwise known as Frosty.

His life was simple. Train, fight, take care of his younger brother Blizz, rest. He didn't care for anything else, not like there was anything else he could ask from life.

The Carnival was something he didn't really care about, however, Blizz cared about it. Hell, he was begging to go as soon as he first caught wind of it.

They were going to go as a family, him, Blizz, and Frosty. At least to bond with each other, not having been together as a family for about 10 years, Sledger had been 12, Blizz had just been born. Inwardly, Sledger hoped something would happen for the trip to be cancelled so he could just rest inside his room or train.

Truth be told, he was quite socially awkward, he didn't like crowds much.

He had a plan set, there was a dunk tank at the carnival, he'd dunk Frosty in it, most likely he'd get pissed and they'd go home early. Maybe after an hour or two there he'd do it, make sure Blizz at least had his fun, the 13 year old didn't get out much and Sledger noticed how bored he'd been as of late.

The stories always irked him, or so he'd thought. Conspiracies and theories, stupidity and predictions, there was always somebody coming up with a new story about the Carnival, about how the animatronics were alive, or they kidnapped people to sell them, or how it may just be an elaborate trap set by the rumored new boss they'd have to fight. Yet every time, Sledger listened close to the stories and eavesdropped on those creating their theories.

He had become more invested in them then he'd ever care to admit, and it became a secret hobby of sorts, a guilty pleasure. He wrote down his favorite stories and theories in a notebook he had in his room, left over from his High school days, blank aside from the first page where he'd scribbled down some math notes. It was a perfect place to track his favorites and maybe create something of his own.

Sledger was under Commander Argon, a strange creature known as a Hawk-man, yet she couldn't fly well, her wings having gotten broken a while back and healed improperly, her tail was missing one of the horizontal strakes from a scuffle with the Fallen King (or at least that's what she had claimed.) Meaning her flight stability wasn't the best either.

Sledger looked up to her with respect, so imagine his surprise when she all of a sudden became obsessed with the nuances of the carnival, to the point of losing sleep. While it was like her to become obsessed with targets to this extent, Sledger could never in a million years guess that the csrnival would go to the forefront of her attention, it somewhat worried him.

Argon was always strange in her ways, many thought that she suffered from some mental condition, she acted as if she couldn't keep track of her thoughts, she was always rambling on about whatever she had in her head at the time in between matches when she wasn't training or napping in the sun, some people called her crazy, or at least weird for that. Now with the sudden obsession with case files of carnival related things, even going as far as somehow acquiring proprietary info, it all served to prove everybody's point. It was a miracle how nobody had pushed for her to be evaluated mentally.

Maybe it's because they also knew that she was protected under Below, and she was too good of a leader to be let go over a rumor of insanity. Being number 2 has its perks...

He's always wanted to talk to Argon about the cases and make his own theories the more he heard, but he didn't know where to even start. As much as he looked up to and respected Argon, he was still nervous to talk to her, she had quite the reputation of having a short temper

The day before the Carnival was like any other, he got up, got ready, trained a bit, made sure Blizz didn't attempt to convince one of the slashers to play catch with his axes, and just hung around. He looked at his surroundings, he was at the carnival, yet had no clue how even got there. He shrugged it off as some weird trick of the mind and continued on, everything seemed off, yet he continued walking. His arm brushed up against somethinf wet as he snuck in beteeen the booths and he stopped to look at what it was, a weird, black, foul smelling grease that seemed to spread all over his body.

He tried to claw it off, backing up and realizing in horror that his attempts were futile to stop it from spreading, he fell backwards, closing his eyes as he felt the black grease taking over his face. He screamed out for help yet all that came out were gurgling noises.

He woke up suddenly. Realizing that it was barely morning. It was a dream, nothing happened.

He breathed easy, knowing it was just a horrible dream, unfortunately now he wasn't able to fall asleep again and just decided to get ready, it's be an hour before anybody else woke up.

With nothing else to do, Sledger decided to take a walk, absent-mindedly walking towards wherever his feet led him to, which happened to be the carnival, still closed for the night.

He felt as if something was off, his mind immediately thinking of what one of the Gladiators had said, the place felt evil. Yet Sledger approached the carnival still, stopping at the entrance gate where he could easily jump over and explore the carnival all to his lonesome.

It wouldn't be hard for him to jump the gate. He could find more evidence to disprove or add to his theory list, he could make his own theories and he could maybe bring them to Argon to show her.

He stared at the gate once more before turning around and walking back to the base, he simply couldn't do it. He pussied out and he hated himself for it. His nightmare weighed heavily in his mind

He was even quieter than usual when he returned to the base, just wanting to be left alone.

The day he went to the carnival was like any other, he got ready, put on his uniform, it was the only thing he had to wear anyway. After making sure he was fine, he helped Blizz get ready, trying to get the young executioner to not attempt to sneak his axes in or do anything else that would cut their trip short before Sledger could dunk their father into the frigid dunk tank water.

The three met up close to the exit gate of the base and Frosty himself flew them over there, Blizz bubbling with excitement as Sledger was lost in his thoughts, recounting his favorite theories and wild stories. No sooner had he finished thinking about his latest favorite before Frosty landed, keeping sure to make it soft.

Seeing the carnival gate reminded Sledger of yesterday, he angrily locked the thoughts away and continued on with his family. This time, he made it past the gate and walked into the carnival, bustling with noise and activity, shouts of excitement, cheers, it felt overwhelming and so Sledger decided to just focus on Blizz who was begging Frosty to let him try an axe throwing game, the prize was a large stuffed animal, a dragon.

Frosty caved and let Blizz play, aurprised when the executioner finished in record time and came back triumphantly holding his dragon plush. Frosty hugged Blizz and praised him for a good job.

Sledger decided to break from the group, he had brought himself a turkey leg from one of the stands to eat as he sat on a bench and looked around at what else was there at the carnival.

He spotted a group of Commanders playing skee-ball at the arcades, Towers and civillians alike idled around and enjoyed all the carnival had to offer. An animatrinic band was performing a lively song to a group of children plus a Scout that was on Sledger's team.

The leader of the band being a bear named Bonzo who appeared to be the main vocalist, there was also a bassist rabbit named Bon, a chicken playing the electrig guitar, a beaver on the synths, and a fox also doing vocals and the backing guitar work. All the animatronics looked well worn and sparsely maintained, rips in their fabric fur exterior and some features such as tails or ears weren't moving properly. It was almost weird to look at the robot animal band.

Sledger watched their performance from afar, only getting up to buy a soda and throw the remaining bone of the turkey leg away, he still felt on-edge.

He got up and walked away, soda in hand, ready to dunk his father into the water tank. Luckily, his father hsd taken care of a majority of the work since he was already in front of it, trying to hit a small target to dunk the person on the pedestal into the murky water.

The plan was easy, Sledger had tripped Frosty using his own tail, holding back a slight chuckle as Frosty fell in, angrily flapping his wings in an attempt tonget himself out only for them to get wet as well and rendering them useless.

It took three Commanders plus Sledger to lift his dad out, the attendant simply stared at the commition and didn't offer to help in the slightest, typical.

The plan had worked though, the trio were taken home in the Humvee of one of the Commanders that worked under Argon, Henry was his name.

Aside from Blizz excitedly talking about his carnival experience to Henry, the vehicle wss relatively silent, Sledger was lost in regret for what he did, and the Frost Spirit himself somehow looked even more pale than usual.

They had barely gotten to the base before the Frost Spirit had suddenly started to gag and attempt to cough something out, then ducking behind one of the bushes to vomit out a black, greasy sludge, similar to in Sledger's nightmare. He stumbled out and Sledger caught him before he could collapse on the ground. Quickly, Sledger, Blizz, and Henry rushed Frosty, over to the medic, who was treating a Gladiator's hand after he almost burned it off at the carnival.

Frosty was quickly sedated as he had a nature of thrashing around and wrecking equipment, even if it was unintentionalmost times. Sledger took Blizz to their room so he could rest and clean up.

They would have to explain what happened to Argon later and he wasnt looking forward to it in the slightest.

Sledger felt terrible. it wss his fault that his father was sick.

Everything was his fault.
____________________

The Commander’s ears flicked up and down, straining to listen for any sounds in case if somebody or something sprung an attack on them or their companion, named Cyrus. The latter had his sword drawn and was carefully watching for any movement.

They passed what seemed like hours, sneaking by and keeping watch for any enemies, they almost didn't notice the beam of light flashing, barely missing them. The Commander easily dodged it and grabbed Cyrus, painstakingly flapping their wings upwards towards the top of some shed, roughly depositing Cyrus who fell with an off before dropping down themself, growling in pain from having to carry a large weight with her almost useless wings, the pain throbbed in the locations where they had been broken before and their tail angrily hit the shipping container. Cyrus then suddenly enveloped The Commander in a hug and let them bite down on his arm, as long as they was kept silent since there was a rustling of grass, footsteps drew closer. A night guard possibly.

He shone his light on the shipping container, not bothering to look up, he shrugged and left, thinking the noise was from some wild animal, there were a lot of animals in Stronghold, as well as zombies.

Cyrus releaaed The Commander, wincing in pain as he watched blood trickle down the arm they had bitten. He would deal with that later, for now, they had to keep searching, he sheathed his sword and awaited further instruction.

They glided down from the container while Cyrus simply jumped off, landing without any noise. The two continued their search, stopping only when The Commander seemed to focus on something, some strange booth with a sign that had read "Closed for Maintenance"

The fur on their tail rose as they seemed to find whatever was in the tent to be dangerous, they poked at it, using their claws to easily cut through the tarp covering revealing what was inside.

The stench hit them first and they gagged, Cyrus quickly backed off, being able to still smell whatever it was, barely keeping from gagging himself.

The Commander quickly took out their phone, almost dropping it and shakily unlocking it, turning the flashlight on, the two stared at what was quite possibly the most disgusting thing they've seen in their life.

Chapter Text

"Towermen earlier scoured the area for clues on what could've caused the unfortunate death of 14 year old Rodney Hartman and 16 year old Sarah Evans today at the Hallow's Eve Carnival, Belownatural advises all Towermen avalible to-"

With an annoyed growl, the TV shut off and the remote was thrown to a Ranger who put it back on the coffee table of the private rec room.

"Another fuckin' death at that place... It's almost getting annoying hearing about it." Simon, the resident Slasher stretched and shifted around in an effort to get comfortable on the old, worn couch as he let out a loud sigh before finally finding a semi-comfortable position, or at least one where it didn't feel like he was laying on a plank of stiff wood. "What do you think about it, Scout?"

The third member of the small group, a Golden-class scout and Simon's closest friend looked up from his phone, probably reading about another, different carnival case, he shrugged at Simon and reached towards an open dorito bag on the ground, fishing out two chips and eating them.

"I'm surprised the state government isn't getting involved, Stronghold is one of their most prized assets, after all. Or at least, that's what they all tell us." Rafael, the Ranger then goes back to looking at his own phone, not really having anything more to add

"We may be assets but remember that most of us were kidnapped to fight the zombies, you of all people should know this, Raffy."

Rafael quietly growled at Scout's nickname for him, not finding it to his taste as well as disliking the public revelation of how he got hired

Simon was next to speak up, having more to add

"We all know very damn well how frustrating those bastards can be, why don't we all go down there and check it out, it's better than sitting on these crappy couches anyway. "

The Slasher had slowly stood up, cracking his back before put his coat on, wagging his tail in excitement as he waited for his other two friends to agree, the prospect of doing something new burned a childish impatience within the Slasher.

"Sorry, not feeling it..." Rafael put his phone down and lazily stared at the Slasher, repositioning himself on a couch equally as stiff and uncomfortable as the one the slasher had just gotten up off of.

"No thanks... I don't think Commander Henry would let us." Scout didn't even look up from his phone as he answered, further cementing his decision to stay put

"Ah fine, I'll go on my own. Heard that they were going to have a dirt bike around there to win, and they got a new animatronic band up. Oh well, see you two later.." And with that, Simon had walked out, each step filled with purpose as he made his way to where he suspected Henry would be, to steal the unsuspecting Commander’s car keys.

He stopped at the end of the hallway, easily picking up the sounds of scrambling and the heavy thud of boots on the tile floor as the two Towermen ran to catch up with their comrade, clearly interested in going now. He suddenly got thrown to ghe ground as the two accidentally ran into each other, piling up all on each other in a chaotic heap.

Rafael was the first to stand up, helping his other two friends back up with him, Simon gestured towards the garage and the two quickly made their way over while Simon went to go snag the keys.

The shredder silently crept up on Henry who was currently talking with his DJ and Luger, the hacker-class soldier on their team, apparently he had gotten into some privste footage and leaked it all over Twitter as a payback for losing all his video game consoles for 2 months. A perfect distraction for what Simon needed.

During the heat of the argument between the three, light as a cloud with all the grace of a shadow, Simon crept directly behind the commander and hooked a claw around the key ring which was practically about to fall out of the commander's pocket, easily freeing it from its fabric prison, once the heist was pulled, Simon practically ran over to the garage where he found his friends kicking the shit out of the motorcycle owned by Henry's DJ, laughing and hollering as they did.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" A sharp voice cut through the noise and Simon quickly pressed the button to open the garage door, noticing that the angry voice of what was possibly the DJ quickly approaching the garage after the not so subtile sounds of crunching metal and laughter leaked out into the main area where he was previously.

Simon watched as his friends glanced towards the garage door being thrown open as the DJ made his way to the two, who slowly backed towards Henry's car, although they looked like they were simply keeping their distance so the DJ started to close in on them, two steps for their one with a hellbound pace, ready to put the ranger and scout through Hell for ruining his precious bike.

While DJ was distracted, Simon was already in the car and had the keys in the ignition, ready to get the fuck out as soon as his friends got in.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING DESTROYING MY MOTORCYCLE, I'M GOING TO REPORT YOU TWO TO BELOW FOR THIS SHIT AND THEN YOU'RE BUYING ME A NEW ONE." Dj snarled and ran towards the two, With that, Rafael and Scout both ran into the maze of the cars, quickly spotting Henry's car and making their way towards it while also trying to lose the very angry DJ.

Simon quickly turned the car on and watched as his friends flung open the passenger door and both dove into the backseats, Simon wasted no time shifting gear and flooring it, tires squealing as the car shot out just before DJ was able to grab anything or dive in after the two, barely missing him by a hair's width.

After a relatively small distance had been put between the DJ and the trio Simon slowed down a bit to match the current road speed limit, the three collectively breathing heavily and attempting to calm down their nerves, still way too energized from the escape.

Scout closed the car door that they had left open during their mad entrance and the three put their seatbelts on as Simon idly fiddled with the radio, landing on some local station playing Earth Wind and Fire, the three listened in silence for a while until Simon broke it, asking the question that weighed heavy in his mind since he had walked in on the two causing their chaos

"Rafael, Scout, why were you destroying that prick's motorcycle in the first place? we could've had a clean escape if you morons didn't decide to fucking mess with his shit and make a commotion about it."

Simon drummed his fingers on the sterring wheel, driving off the paved road onto dirt where the carnival surely was stationed.

"He destroyed my fucking dirt bike two weeks ago, crashed it into a fucking lamppost somehow and said he'd pay it back as well as pay for the mods I added to it. It's been a month and I haven't seen a single fucking cent!"

Rafael's voice became cold and bitter at the thought of what destroyed his most prized possession, unknowingly closing his left hand in a tight fist

"He also bought himself some stuff last month too, didn't he?"

Scout asked, recalling the DJ bragging about some new jacket he had gotten the other day

"Yeah, an 8 thousand dollar Gucci jacket, a new stereo system, and a fucking MacPro. Fucking dickwad couldn't even bother to at least send me a couple hundred dollars to keep his promise..."

Rafael grumbled the last few words, suddenly not feeling in the mood to talk

"You're in luck then Raffy-"

"Don't call me that." Ranger gritted the words out, hating the nickname

"Anyway, I didn't lie about them having a dirt bike up for a prize, its a Honda as well if I recall, although it's tough to get if you're up for that challenge." Slowly, Simon noticed as his friend's face lit up in excitement snd hope at the prospect of being able to win a new motorcycle

"I'LL DO ANYTHING FOR IT, WHAT CHALLENGE IS IT!?" Rafael's mood turned a 180 towards full excitement (quite possibly the most emotion he's ever shown) as Simon parked the car near the entrance, shutting the engine off and climbing out with his friends.

"Well you see my friend..." Simon grinned his signature shark-toothed grin, filled with mischief. "Ever heard of Big Bill, that one lava monster that they had a prize for?"

"Yeah they promised 886 million to the one who could stay on him for 8 seconds, a lot of famous bullriders came from all over and they didn't manage, the one who did shortly died after Big Bill whacked him on accident with its tail" Rafael kicked a rock on the gravel parking lot and watched as it bounced away

"You're not thinking of riding him, are you?"

The ranger sincerely hoped that his friend would say that he wasn't thinking of riding the lava creature but it was Simon, doing crazy shit has always been his forte

"Why of course we'll ride him! Everybody's put up stuff for collateral since they couldn't pay the challenge fee and lost it, that collateral got put up as part of the prize so it would be worth it! You could get the bikes and whatever else, we'll all take turns and we'll win!"

Simon took out a wad of cash and gave it to the attendant at the entrance booth, quickly passing the entrance tickets to his group before focusing his sights on where he could find Big Bill.

They quickly went through security thanks to showing their IDs, denotating them as Towermen and now they were filtered out into the large carnival, sounds of rides, music, and games filled the air as well as laughter and random chatter of people passing the trio.

Despite all the incidents, the carnival was as lively as it had been yesrs before, no sign of extra precautions being put in place or any sort of warning sign. It was a miracle the place hasn't gotten sued yet.

Scout quickly broke off from the group to buy deep-fried oreos, beer, and some cheesy fries to share with the other members before they all went to ride Big Bill. It seemed like something that would be best done while drunk.

Upon his return, he saw the other two downing shots, maybe they both also agreed that being drunk was the only way to do this and had gone to buy some while Scout was buying the beer and fries, with that, they continued their quest to find the bull pit.

After a slight confusion, Scout found the bullriding pit that Big Bill was in, a large, muddy srea corralled in with lava metal, product of the Molten Kingdom, Big Bill bucked around like his life depended it, trying to throw the rider off him, mud occasionally would fly towards the unlucky audience member, the audience in turn supplied their encouragement with cheers or boos once the rider was inevitably bucked off

Rafael and Simon took to observing the current bullriding exhibition, seating themselves in one of the front rows, caked in the stray mud that went flying, laughing and trading words in their native language as they watched the poor soul currently riding the Lava Monster get thrown off and almost trampled since they couldn't get out of the way fast enough.

Luckily the unfortunate victim got away, their riding time being displayed up on a large digital clock as 4.32 seconds, a collective groan was heard from the audience, Simon dissapeared in the crowd as soon as the round ended, probably to go get registration done.

the challenge was definitely worth the hype and the prize, Big Bill was a beast to never be tamed and the rodeo made sure of cementing that, there was a very high and very real possibility of one of them dying or at least not winning, having put down a fee for nothing.

Scout quickly stifled his doubts and uncertainties as he approaced his two friends just as Simon returned from signing them up for the challenge

Scout quickly butt in between his two friends and offered his wares, which the two gladly accepted with a thanks, scooping up cheesy fries, fried oreos, and downing the cheap carnival beer while the next rider prepared to meet the similar fate as the previous one.

The crowd watching all cheared as the current rider was so close to 8 seconds, cheers turning to groans as he got thrown off in the last milisecond, unceremoniously landing in the mud and scrambling to get up and run out of the way, narrowly avoiding getting charged by Big Bill, but not avoiding getting his pants set on fire by the creature's firebreath, an almost comical sight and the trio laughed and continued to shovel the rest of the fries in their mouth

Simon especially laughed the hardest, hearing the ding of the preparation bell was heard and Big Bill was coerced back into his pin, once the creature was secured, the announcer chimed in, turning off the music momentarily and getting everybody's attention.

He had all too quickly forgotten that he registered the trio as he let himself get drunk.

"OUR NEXT COMPETITOR, A TOWERMAN, AND A RARITY! OUR FIRST SHREDDER CHALLENGER, SIMON LANTHORNE!"

Simon choked on the rest of his beer upon hearing his name being called, the roar of applaude from the audience sounded as his stomach suddenly dropped like a ball of lead in his body, his skin somehow paled even more, in a second, Simon was reduced to leaning against the railing with his entire weight, clinging onto it like a lifeline, shaking like a leaf at the thought of his fate.

The audience quickly grew restless, chanting Simon's name as he stumbled his way to the entrance of the arena, taking off his chains, hat, and jacket as he tried his best to listen to the instructions and warnings from the staff, barely being able to pick anything up aside from the sound of blood quickly rushing to his head, he swore that Big Bill give him a sinister smile as the two locked eyes.

Led over to the monster like a lamb to the slaughter

That damned monster had intent to kill him!

Soon, he was sat on Big Bill, gripping onto the bull rope so hard his knuckles were as white as snow, as if his life depended on it, which it did but ignoring that would to more good for his currently wrecked mental state. He heard the announcer count down, the sound of a bell einging as the music was cued up again and Big Bill was let loose in all his destructive glory.

Simon screamed and tried his best to mimick the pro riders he saw before he was sat on this hellhound. Aucience members cheered and clapped, some yelled out advice or insults. Time truly felt like it was crawling at a snail's pace, as if the world had all stopped aside from Big Bill and Simon in the world.

he felt light all of a sudden, vision hazy as he tried desperately to match the monster's motion despite feeling as if he was tumbling through the air like a leaf in a tornado. He smelled blood, a faint scent, as if it was just there, a slight linger.

His stomach for the second day dropped again like the ball of lead. He was soon face to face with a rapidly approaching ground, distorted voices, yelling, and an overall commotion surrounded the shredder as he unceremoniously slammed into the mud sludge down below as gravity made quick work of him, soiling his uniform and filling his nose and mouth, mind too hazy to even think about crawling away to the safety of the bullpen.

The last thing he remembered was not feeling anything aside from a pain straight from Hell.

On the ground, not far from where Simon had crashed down, lay a severed hand, ripped from its owner, trampled by Big Bill as he was forced back into the pen.
____________________

The Commander growled low as they pinned their ears back as a threat as they looked at the item before them and their partner, a leftover pineapple pizza.

Noticing his partner's discomfort, Cyrus quickly unsheathed his sword to shove the pizza off its ledge leading it to fall on the ground with in unceremonious splat. Once the thread had been neutralized, the commander returned to normal, their ears flicking back up just in time to hear the almost quiet grumbling of the guard drawing closer again.

They grabbed Cyrus's hand just as he has sheathed his sword and pulled him towards some mirror maze tent, shut down for the night, the two ducked in under an unsecured flap and held their breath as footsteps drew closer, light shining like an ominous ghost as the guard stopped right in front of their entrance, staying for a couple of minutes before walking off.

The two exhaled a breath they weren't even aware they were holding at the second close call of the night.

They slowly crawled out of their hiding place, not noticing the black grease that clung to their clothing and skin.

The two continued their search up until Cyrus got hungry, he motioned for the commander to follow him as he led his search for food.

Past the ferris wheel notorious for its deaths, past the bull riding arena, past the dunk tank, the arcade, near the back where only a couple of stands were set up, including an inconspicuous guard office setup to look like any other closed attraction, the only thing giving it away was the dim light turned on inside, shining through the cracks in the vinyl tarp cover

The heavenly smell of the cheap, greasy pizza enticed Cyrus to silently open one of the flaps, gazing in to see the same nightguard that had been terrorizing the duo all night, leaning into his weathered office chair with his back too Cyrus, reading what was possibly some Playboy magazine, or at least thats what Cyrus imagined some disgruntled, underpaid nightguard would read during his meager shift.

The prize was right in front of Cyrus, a box which contained a warm, gooey, cheesy pizza, probably reheated leftovers from the concession stand but who cares. Cyrus made sure to close the box before greedily taking it from literally right behind the nightguard.

He placed his prize down on the ground and sat down, the commander did the same as Cyrus opened the box and offered his partner the first slice, they eagerly grabbed two slices and stacked them like a sandwich, eagerly ripping into them like a savage animal that hadn't seen food in weeks. Meanwhile, Cyrus ate his own slice, making sure to stay quiet.

The latter took no such precaution, making all sorts of animalistic noises as they finished their first two slices and grabbed one more, finishing that one too in a heartbeat.

Their face was surprisingly relatively clean, their claw tipped hands? not so much, covered in grease and pizza sauce like some cheesy horror film. Cyrus stifled a laugh as he saw the current state of the commander, reaching out to touch their cheek, brushing off a bit of sauce that had gotten there.

to the other commander, they felt heat rush to their head as fhey shyly shifted so that their back was to Cyrus, they focused on licking their hands clean as a way to distract themselves from the interaction, eventually settling for putting their face in their now clean hands and exhaling.

Cyrus has since eaten the rest of the pizza and had gently set the box aside and cleaned himself, scooting closer to the commander and enveloping them in a warm hug, feeling the heat radiate off them, a wonderful change from the breeze that would blow through with the buds of what would become a terribly cold winter.

he felt the commander slowly adjust themself to his presence, purring as Cyrus held them. It was almost perfect.

almost as if they were home and not in some twisted carnival solving a murder mystery.

almost as if they didn't currently have a beam of light spotlighting them, its source being one very angry night guard, face scarred and eye heavy with anger.

Now that he was directly facing the two, Cyrus could see that the night guard was missing his left eye, his other eye reflected tiredness, as if his prominent eyebags didn't already convey that. His forehead had some ugly scar, the poor man looked no older than 27 and he held onto the lignt as if his life depended on it, knuckles already white, his other hand was already reaching for his baton.

Cyrus felt the commander wriggle out of his grasp, defensively covering him as they engaged in the most intense staring battle he'd ever witnessed.

the commander slowly stood up to their full height, their tail hitting the ground in short, angry strokes, hands trembling in anticipation, Cyrus could swear that they saw their claws slowly grow bigger as the commander statted to growl at the night guard, clearly raring to kill him.

Cyrus saw the Night guare try to pull out his baton, only for the commander to grab his arm, so focused on it that they didn't even realize that it was a trap to distract them while the night guard pulled out a tranquilizer gun and shot the commander with it.

almost immedeately, they fell backwards onto Cyrus and the next thing he knew was darkness and the ragged breathing of the guard coming down from the adrenaline high.

What a way to get caught.