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There’s blood slithering its way down the back of Pomni’s throat, and she feels nauseous.
“I do hope you’re not unconscious. I am not done with you yet.”
Despite her exhaustion and pain, she glares at the figure shrouded in shadows sitting across from her. She’s never been one to glower at someone with so much seething vehemence, but she’s also never been the type to yank out her own teeth just to tip the scales in her favor, so this is a first time for everything, she supposes.
“Are you awake?”
“Shut. Up,” Pomni growls, but in her own ears, her voice sounds as weak as the mewl of a half-drowned kitten. Her mouth hurts terribly. She’s pulled out three teeth so far. The sacrifice was not worth this awful pain.
The Ringmaster’s words ring through her head: Everything requires sacrifice…
“Ah, you ARE still alive,” He hums, pleased. “Very good. As bad of a player you are, your resilience is nothing to be denied. I applaud you for that.” He flicks a gloved finger at the board. “Your move.”
The board is blurry and red. Red from the hot squirts of blood that spout from her mouth whenever she speaks, and red from the blood smeared across the surface of the table.
An Adder, Raven, and Rattlesnake are on the board on His side. Pomni has a Bullfrog and a Wolf. So much unyielding faith these animals have in her, and she’ll only get them slaughtered by accident.
Pomni looks down at her deck. A Raven, a Mole, a Grizzly, and three Squirrels. She would love to play the Grizzly, but that would require her sacrificing her Toad and Wolf, alongside one other animal. She doesn’t think it’s worth it.
Was it worth it? a small voice in her head chimes, and the oozing, empty sockets where her teeth used to be throb in time with each word.
She plays two Squirrels, then sacrifices them both to bring in her Raven. The Squirrels quiver atop the table, staring up at her with huge eyes as they fall, silently asking, Why? Why? Why?
She rings the bell.
Her Wolf takes out His Rattlesnake. Her Bullfrog brings His Raven down to one heart. And her Raven rids the board of the deadly Adder.
…Only for Him to play a second Adder.
“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten how the game works?” He says, His tone level and yet mocking at the same time. Pomni watches through sweat and welling tears of frustration as her Raven is taken out by His second Adder. Her Bullfrog falls, too. “What a disappointment you’ve turned out to be, Pomni, truly. I expected more from you, especially since you’ve made it all the way to the end. But I suppose your intelligence is nothing but a paper-thin illusion, one as weak and flimsy as a child’s safety blanket. Perhaps it was all just dumb luck and nothing that really matters. What a shame. Draw from your deck.”
Torture. This is torture. This place must be purgatory.
What did she ever do to deserve this?
Blood-slick fingers tremble as they reach for the deck.
It wasn’t worth it.
Why did she get herself involved with this card game from Hell?
Why is she so STUPID?
She was desperate- that’s all there is to it, really. She was desperate.
It’s been about a week since Pomni appeared in the Digital Circus, and she’s truly reached the end of her rope. Every single day is the same- she wakes up, realizes that she’s still trapped, has a mini breakdown, and then has to go participate in these insane adventures ordered by a pair of floating dentures, all while accompanied by strange people she doesn’t know and stuck inside the body of a jester. Whenever she gets the chance, she continues her search for the exit, despite what happened her first day of being here. She refuses to believe that there really is no way out.
That’s how she found one certain door.
While doubling back to the main stage area during yet another failed search, she spotted a door she didn’t think was there before. It looked the same as all the others, but something about it, some kind of aura she couldn’t quite detect, was drawing her in, enticing her to explore.
She couldn’t help herself when she grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open.
The door led to a dark space she couldn’t make out many details of, but she still found herself stepping inside anyway. When she did, the door promptly slammed shut behind her. She whirled around, but it was now gone.
“Ah,” said a voice from behind her. “Another straggler. It’s been awhile.”
The hair on the back of Pomni’s neck raised. Slowly, she turned around to see a pair of wide, gleaming eyes staring at her from the dark.
“Come,” said the voice. “Come sit down.”
There was a table, just barely illuminated by the feeble orange glow of two candlesticks. Pomni hesitated, then, seeing no other option at the moment, walked over and sat down on a wooden stool opposite of the figure.
Atop the table was a large sheet of paper rolled open over the surface- a map of sorts. It was adorned in prickly wooden carvings of trees, with a clear path marked through the middle, leading to different icons. Not a map at all, actually, but rather, a game board.
On the right side of the table was a deck of cards, a pair of pliers, and a glass bottle with a card displaying a squirrel in it. On the left side was a bell and a very intricately embellished, antique-looking scale.
Across from her, she couldn’t see much of the person who beckoned her over- if they were a person at all. In the dark, all she could make out was the subtle movement of hands just in front of them, the shine of something metallic, and those watchful eyes that seemed to stare straight into her very soul.
“Greetings,” said the person. A man, Pomni thought. His voice sounded familiar, but there was a weird, echoey quality to it that made it hard to discern.
“Uhh, h-hi?” Pomni said back. “Umm… Wh-where am I? Who are you?”
“Who I am is not important,” said the figure. As He spoke, there was a strange, scratching-like sound that Pomni didn’t know the cause of. “As for where you are… Well, let’s just say you strayed a bit too far, little jester. But don’t worry. We’ll see if it was worth it.”
To say that Pomni was confused would be the world’s biggest understatement.
“Ummm… O-okay?” she said. “Listen, I-I didn’t mean to intrude or anything. I-I can go. I’m sorry.”
There was a deep, rumbling laugh from the shadows, and Pomni felt a shiver sprint down her spine. “A rabbit does not walk into a wolf den and then ask to be excused,” He said. “You blundered in here, and now you must deal with the consequences.”
Dread curled through Pomni’s guts. “R-really, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I-I’m just looking for an exit.”
The figure’s eyes flashed in interest. “An exit?” He repeated.
“…Y-yeah?”
There was another deep, chuckling laugh. “An exit,” He said again. “How interesting. I may be able to help you then. Reveal a truth that has yet to be seen.”
Pomni perked up. “Really? You’ll help me?”
“Perhaps,” He said. “If you prove yourself worthy of help.”
“How do I do that?” Pomni asked.
In the light of the twin candles, Pomni swore she saw the gleam of sharp, pure white teeth as the figure’s maw split open in a wide smile. “It’s simple, really,” He said. “We will play a game. A game of skill and sacrifice.”
He reached over with a gloved hand and set something on an X on Pomni’s side of the game board- a small, wooden carving of a jester. He stuck a carving knife into the right side of the table, next to the pliers, and then slid four cards over to Pomni- a Wolf, a Bullfrog, a Sparrow, and an Adder.
“This will be your starting deck,” He said. “Treat them wisely, for they will be your guardians.”
He then began to explain the game to her, which included blood costs and sacrifice.
“Nothing in life is free,” He told her. “Everything has a price. Everything requires sacrifice.”
Pomni wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but she was a fool to believe that this would be easy. Because she truly did think she would be good at this, as she always prided herself in her card game playing expertise.
But this wasn’t War. This wasn’t Spoons or Solitaire or goddamn Uno.
This is a struggle for her life—and the life she desperately wants to get back to.
“You know, Pomni,” His voice suddenly snaps her back to the present, “you aren’t special. Not even a little bit. You aren’t the first person to sit in that stool and consort with me, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”
Her shaking fingers finally draw the next card from her deck- the picture drawn on the front is the silhouette of a woman, her expression contorted into one of grief. 4 Attack Power, 4 Health. A cost of 2 Sacrifices. The name at the top reads: “Queenie.”
Pomni doesn’t remember having this card in her deck before this encounter.
There’s nothing she can play, so she has no other choice but to ring the bell.
Her one card still standing on the board, the Wolf, strikes the figure directly for two damage, adding two golden Teeth to His side, but that means very little when His Raven and Adder strike her for three damage. Three more Teeth to her side, and the scale is dangerously close to fully tipping on her end.
Her eyes dart to the candle- only one remains lit. The other has been snuffed out, and only a thin trail of smoke rises from the wick.
She fears what will happen when the last flame goes out.
Fueled by adrenaline, Pomni reaches out to the pliers on the right side of the table. The iron jaws grip tightly to her first molar on the top left, and she takes a deep, shuddering breath and closes her eyes before twisting.
CRUNCH.
The pain shoots all the way to her tonsils. There’s this brutal cracking sound that reverberates like thunder inside of her mouth as the pliers wrench her tooth and rip the roots out of the gums. Blood froths up, hot and stinging, and she lets it dribble out from her lips, caring very little for modesty or manners at this point. She’s already lost so much—in more ways than one—so what’s a little more?
She pulls the tooth from her mouth and places it on the figure’s side of the scale, just barely tipping it a bit more in His direction.
And all the while, He just sits there and watches.
“Barbaric,” He comments. “But effective.”
“I’m just trying to get out,” Pomni says through the blood, foaming red bubbles at her lips whenever she speaks.
“You’re too curious for your own good. Do you know that?” He says. “What were you hoping to find by lurking around a place you know you don’t belong? Perhaps if you hadn’t gotten so close, if you hadn’t been so greedy with your search, then this would never have happened to you.”
A wave of nausea washes over Pomni as she realizes that He’s right; it didn’t have to be this way. She could have just left this place alone, she could have accepted her fate within the Digital Circus, and she wouldn’t be stuck here like this.
But the other option was giving up on that hope, the hope of freedom, and she never wanted to embrace the idea that she was never getting out of here. So, she went looking, and now she’s caught in this mess that she still doesn’t fully understand.
She isn’t sure how to respond to Him, so she simply draws another card. She decides to get a Squirrel instead of a card from her own deck, then places down it and the other one she has in her hand before sacrificing them both to bring in Queenie, putting her in front of His Raven. She rings the bell.
Her Wolf strikes Him directly, while Queenie eliminates the Raven. He places down an Elk. His Adder strikes her.
Two more Teeth were added on His side. One on hers.
She’s still losing. Teetering on the edge of oblivion.
Her hand trembles. Her eyes dart from side to side, searching for something to use, something that can help her.
Her gaze falls upon the knife.
Everything requires sacrifice.
Her bloody fingers curl around the handle and lift it from where it’s stuck in the wooden tabletop. The figure watches her silently, not offering any words or interference.
Everything requires sacrifice.
Without a second thought, Pomni sticks the knife into her left eye.
The blade slides in without problem, the eyeball bearing a density as soft as cake fresh out of an oven. The iron tip hits the optic nerve, and an all-encompassing pain explodes inside of her head. It’s so ferocious and virulent that she can’t even scream, although her mouth does yawn open in a feeble attempt.
Still, she finds the willpower to twist her wrist, and the eyeball twists with the movement. She can feel it slide wetly around in the socket as it violently turns, bubbles of blood overflowing and trickling down her cheeks like tears. A squelching sound gurgles in her skull, a nauseating symphony that makes her stomach turn.
Then, she pulls, and, with a slimy, sucking noise, the eyeball pops out, skewered all the way through by the knife. The long, fleshy cord of her optic nerve is still connected, and it tugs uncomfortably in the same way when someone pulls on her hair. It won’t detach, so with her free hand, she grabs the pliers and crushes the optic nerve.
It holds together better than she expected, as pliers aren’t meant for cutting, even flimsy strings of sinew, and, for a moment, it increases the pain to a fiery point. But then, it begins to get gnashed and mashed into a slight paste, finally disconnecting fully.
The tassel of her optic nerve hangs limply from her oozing eye socket. Pomni plucks the eyeball off of the knife, leans forward, and drops it on the scale on the figure’s side, weighing it down heavily.
The figure chuckles, which builds up into a deep, roaring laugh. “Oh, how bold,” He says. “And, would you look at that? You’ve won!”
Pomni is breathing heavily, consumed in a vortex of pain. She presses one hand to her eye socket, and hot gouts of blood force its way out of the gaps between her fingers.
“Now, I’m sure you are just dying to see your reward,” the figure says.
“An exit,” Pomni rasps. There’s so much blood. It’s all she can taste. It’s all she can smell.
“An exit, yes,” He says. “But here’s the thing… I never promised you an exit. I promised you a truth.”
Pomni feels her heart stop. “Wh-what? B-but you—”
“And the truth I decree is something I’m sure you’re already well aware of,” He goes on, cutting off her sputtering. “There is no way out.”
“N-no, this isn’t— that— no!” Pomni cries. “You were supposed to—”
“Ah, ah,” He tuts. He stands up and moves deeper into the shadows, retrieving something. “You’re the fool here, not me. But don’t worry, I won’t let this go to waste. You should see your face right now.”
“No—”
He holds up something- an old, antique camera. It flashes, a burning agony digs itself into Pomni’s very soul, and then everything goes white.
“…Pomni? Pomni, can you hear me? Pomni?”
There are hands on her, and Pomni can’t help when she starts to scream.
“Woah! Woah, calm down! It’s okay!” a voice shouts from beyond her panicked howls.
She’s shaking all over, and it hurts, and no, no, no, this is all so unfair. She shouldn’t be here anymore!
“Pomni, Pomni, hey…”
A second, much calmer voice rises to her ears. Those hands on her shift, adjusting her carefully, and it feels like she’s being held against someone’s chest.
“It’s alright, it’s alright,” murmurs the gentle voice.
“What the hell happened to her?” asks a third voice.
“I don’t know, I just found her laying here,” answers the first voice. “It looked like she passed out or something.”
“I’m not surprised, actually,” says the third voice. “She’s been running around like a chicken with its head cut off.”
Pomni blinks several times, then focuses on whoever has their arms around her. It’s Ragatha. She smiles softly at Pomni when eye contact is made.
“There you are,” Ragatha says softly.
“Is she okay?” Kinger asks, hovering over Ragatha’s shoulder.
“Give her a moment,” Ragatha answers, then looks back down at Pomni. “Breathe. It’s okay. In and out, just like me. Can you do that? Follow me.”
Ragatha spelling it out for Pomni helps greatly, and she manages to fall into pace with the breaths Ragatha takes, even though hers are much more ragged than the doll’s. Still, she can feel some of the panic beginning to dissolve away into the darker reaches of her mind, the vice over her lungs slowly loosening its iron grip.
“Feeling better, sweetie?” Ragatha asks after a moment.
“I-I think,” Pomni answers. “I… Oh god… It…”
“What happened to you?” That’s Jax’s voice. He’s staring down at her from just behind Ragatha.
“I-I was in that room— W-with that— th-the card game!”
They all look at her like she’s insane.
“What?” Zooble says.
Jax laughs. “A card game? The hell are you going on about?”
“In— in that dark room with the scale and the bell and—” Pomni is floundering, and it’s old then that she realizes that she isn’t in any pain. Her mouth doesn’t hurt, her eye doesn’t hurt. Nothing hurts.
Her hand flies up to her left eyeball, but she can feel that it’s there in the socket. Her tongue roves around in her mouth, but all the teeth are there.
Was…that all a dream?
But there’s no way! The pain and terror she had felt was so real! It couldn’t have been a dream!
“I… I don’t know…” Pomni finally mumbles. “My head feels all fuzzy…”
“Just take it easy, honey,” Ragatha says. “I think you fainted. You must be exhausted after this week. Here, can you stand up? Let’s go get you some food.”
Pomni nods and rises to her feet with Ragatha’s help.
And when she does, something flutters out from a crease in her clothes. She reaches down and picks it up.
It’s…a card.
1 Power. 6 Health. A cost of 2 Sacrifices. The display photo is of a jester’s silhouette, and their expression is twisted into one of anguish and pain, one eyeball seemingly scratched out.
Her name is printed at the top.