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The green tents stay sturdy against the winds as the carnival lights whistle by their feet. Popcorn vendors, games, and men on stilts wave to the crowd that funnels into the biggest tent on this fairground: the first night shall decide the future of this circus, and so far the number of customers seems promising to the sponsor’s demands for this week.
In the contracts that’s been laid out, all the owner has to do is drum up a suitable number for the business…AND entice visitors to come back to the fairgrounds once more. As long as the visitors want to visit again, the sponsors would be lenient about the first week’s payment and give the appropriate, deserved bonus up front as well.
For a job that offered a bonus so large at the start of the contract, it was always for a good reason. After all, the visitors tonight still looked over their shoulders and carefully checked the lantern lights as Oletus Manor was in perfect view from the circus; its stories still carefully preserved in the oral retelling and experiences rare locals had of the cursed manor.
Sources claimed that the manor was a place of madness, death, betrayal, and sorrows. Countless souls came to the gates in the past seeking something; the only clue of what it was hidden away in the letters, the invitations, that lured them to personal damnations.
It didn’t matter what profession they were: sailor, artist, cowboy, felon- the moment you arrived at the manor with your invite, never again would you see the outside light and only then would you realize what a mercy your life had been. The methods of what happened to the guest varied in what caused or brought about their deaths. The details of which the “locals” still whispered in hushed breaths while eying the manor.
But what mattered now in the present was the outcome of tonight. The Zelle Circus needed to drum up a big AND returning crowd. If this week wasn’t deemed satisfactory enough to the sponsors, then the circus would financially afford to pack up and head to the next town. But it wouldn’t be expected for the… least entertaining acts to remain around long after that.
Tonight was a new leading performers debut in the circus- and nothing, even the rumors of the Oletus Acrobat, would prevent them from shining in the spotlight.
______
A show doesn’t need everyone’s applause, but each clap signals a gold coin in the fund’s box. Money can be seen as temporary…for those who have enough of it. But for the rest and in this line of work? Sacrifices are a grain to take against the wall of humiliation- an experience only those who are willing and truly talented can call ‘ humbling ’.
And those who falter and cannot live up to the spotlight, much less grasp a beam from it …
You won’t spare a thought for that to anyone , not with your goals finally shining in your eyesight- blinding your view as you stand surrounded by the audience in the open sand ring. The stands are lined with faces covered in the shadows; Their shapes the only distinguishable mark you can make on any age from varying heights, fashionable hats, and occasionally, the beaming eyes that curiosity coat’s at what happens next- what you bring next after the tigers, lions, dancers, and strong men.
In the right hand, the audience sees two striped pins the size of the performer’s forearms reaching up to their elbows. In the left hand it's an exact mirror, save for the umbrella that looks awfully plain on the outside and is tightly coiled. The performer outfit is simple leotard with a small piece of flowing fluorescent fabric on their right thigh that cuts off at their knee- but it's all a starch right that emphasizes the bold colors of each striped pin: Red, Blue, Green and Yellow.
With a little grin emphasized by the pale pink make up in the corner of their lips, the performer bows forward with a dramatic curtsey against the crowd's odd silence and begins their act.
The pins in your right hand are casually tossed up in the air, spinning in 3 clear 180 degree circles before you catch both in the palm of your hand. A baby gurgles at the brief flashes of Blue and Yellow it saw in the air.
A 90 degree stretch of your leg in a fanning emotion in front of you as you toss a single Green pin up from your left hand and catch it in your right, leaving only an umbrella now hanging on your left wrist and a Red pin you ogle at- as though something feels off…
Balancing rolling oddly through your right thigh, halfway to your foot lifting do you feel it. This angle isn’t what you practiced before- and given the speed and way your body is bending, that you can’t afford to break the illusion of, you're going to hit the side of the box in front of you- spraining your ankle. A fumble that will turn the spotlight off so the audience doesn’t see the misfortune- that you won’t ever see again.
Under flat, pink painted lips your muscles twitch at the beginning of a sob rumbling your throat. A moment of triumph turned into a grand swan song finale as your body hurtled itself in the air amongst its motions, all eyes on it.
But your right leg suddenly lost all feeling in it, and in that moment you were a motionless porcelain doll. All your nerves dead but guided by something nudged against it. It felt like a hand under your knee patiently turning and rotating your body.
Some in the audience felt something odd from the little movement the performer gave. How they almost had that nagging detail confirmed-
-Before an animated lift of your cheek, mouth, and wiggle in your shoulder told the audience that this movement was exactly what you're intention was as you rest your right foot triumphantly on an old box in front of you.
Excitement drums in your stomach as the pivotal move approaches, eardrums eager for the roaring applause as you pull on the string discreetly against your wrist to unfurl the umbrella.
The world roll’s on itself and feels funny though. It's a minor miscalculation, a wrong amount of weight on your foot that you had practiced endlessly on as you lean forward on it with the umbrella unfurling, revealing a swarm of colorful ribbons and bunched up fabric that wave around and obscure your vision differently from practice. Were you having an illusion of what could of been, like those who failed the spotlight-?
And the performer straightened their back, ribbons weaving around their figure expertly until they unfolded like a trailing rainbow behind them as fans blew them gracefully behind their figure. With grace in their figure, they began to throw and catch the striped pins in the air, quickly throwing each pin higher and higher as the spotlight narrowed in, burning onto them as darkness shrouded them. The audience could only make out their ethereal white figure swathed in colors.
Nothing could budge you from the weightless stance you stood in, body craning towards the audience as the hand guided your leg to point behind you and another pressed its palm against your stomach, solidifying and supporting your arching structure.
Thunderous applause poured down upon you as you gazed up at the softening light of the spotlights, they turned faintly orange like a sunset as the stage you now stood on slowly faded behind the curtain. From the shadows of the audience you could make out the confusion, awe, and some folks being slightly impressed behind their mustache’s as you faded from view. Warmth filling your chest- in the last seconds from the corner of your vision, you caught a glimpse of a giant hand with long, calloused fingers and a ruffled wrist hovering above your own extended hand waving goodbye to the audience . Its movement’s in sync with your own.
______
“Since when did you learn how to throw past the fifth ring on the pole?”
The backstage is loud behind the curtain as the show goes on, performers switching in and out for their segments and breaks in between the shows to recuperate and touch up their makeup. Occasionally some may lend a hand to the backstage crew for some set’s.
“Ha! Why Zelle, you know I’ve always got a few tricks up my sleeve!” You leaned against the make-up table as the women in front of you gently applied blush to your cheeks. Maria Zelle frowned as she snapped the compact closed, her attention going to your wrist.
“Did your tricks also cause this?” While she was quick to grab your wrist, it was with gentle care beneath her stern gaze she peeled back the sleeves of your outfit. For a second the mask almost slipped as you saw the marks, but quickly you seized it and twirled Maria briefly as you stood up.
“It's just a little something from the after show is all. You think my wrist got this strong naturally on their-” A hand pressed against your lips as Maria shook her head at you, red dusting her cheeks as she looked at you cross. All signs of previous worry mostly reduced on her face.
“I don’t need those details- you're supposed to be a juggler not a call girl, remember?” The man who called out to her after served to further end the conversation between you two. As she turned around to see what the issue is, “I’ll have medicine for that at your tent tonight. Don’t fidget or try your luck with it alright?” She looked over her shoulder at you, stilled and gaze not leaving your face.
“I’ll be careful, It’s not even that bad. Just watch, Brendan will be having me help the janitors with sweeping duty at midnight!” You waved goodbye at her, leaning against the table as you watched her disappear around a corner.
…
…..
…….
When a few more seconds pass, you carefully lean against the mirror with your mascara stick; Skillfully applying a fresh coat while checking the marks on your wrist in the brighter lighting. On your wrist there was five bands that wrapped around your wrist and only had a little space in between them, preventing them from being a complete loop. The skin was a light purple, hardly bruised if not for the blue veins that flashed through them.
As your fingers gingerly touched the marks, a chill ran over your shoulder. No, not over, it glided over your skin. A phantom chill that felt odd, ominous…but not threatening.
Inhaling deeply, your mind went over those few seconds before you disappeared from the audience. It was your hard work that got you out of that predicament, probably some reflexes you weren’t even aware of. Certainly not the work of the “ghostly” acrobat that roamed Oletus grounds.
If Maria truly wanted to help you, then she should stop spreading that particular story and fanning everyone's imagination wilder, including your own. All this excitement for their own show was making their head hazy, and amidst the polished perfumed scents you sprayed on for later- there was a whiff of odd smoke. Something that should be in the tech staff’s corner of the tent, far from the performers...
____
In your right hand, the audience sees two striped pins the size that match the size of your forearms reaching up to your elbows. In your left hand it's an exact mirror, save for the umbrella that looks far too extravagant with various types of ribbons of different colors strewn about and wrapping around your left arm. In place of your leotard is fluorescent fabric that leaves you feeling like a baroque pearl, iridescent fabric interweaving with your outfits whites folds, ribbons, and hanging fabric.
The pink makeup is uncomfortably dry in the corner of your mouth, but it doesn’t hinder your practiced courtesies and bows to the empty rows of the audience.
The performance is once again in motion, throwing a pin, 90 degree turns, flashes of color, and stepping onto the box. There’s no hand under your knee this time, and as you solo the balancing act admits a sea of empty seats- a thought comes to you.
‘Why is the box still below?’
You step back, hands and wrist still twirling the umbrella, and look at the box from its sharp edge corners. With a quick kick the box wobbles on its side; adjusting your position rapidly, you kick once more and manage to lift the box a few inches off the ground. You catch it by the corner, balancing it on the tip of your toes before flexing your leg, tossing it overhead.
The box lands on top of the umbrella, jostling it a bit. But with some practice you get it to balance on the knob, spinning opposite to the umbrellas twirling cascade of ribbons. Yet…
‘There could be more. But what?’ You thought, not processing the phantom hand that wrapped around your bruised wrist again.
“ Have…there…be…bubbles…”
“Bubbles? Yes that would be nice.”
“Kids…love…them…so…much…and…”
“And?…” you asked but silence stood stagnant around you. “…they wouldn’t distract or… be too colorful from the ribbons either?” You filled in.
“ Exactly…that…just…put the…soap on…the…bottom…of…the…box.”
“So then when it’s spinning it could-! Wait that wouldn’t be enough motion.” There was a weight on your shoulder, someone leaning over it “disappointed” in your logic.
“…! But! We could install a fan inside the box to blow them then!”
“How…would…you…activate…it…?”
“I could put a remote control…in the handle!”
“The…handle….?….!!!….that…could…work….and-“
In the silence of the empty tent you eagerly exchanged ideas and details with the invisible force behind your body. The only indicator of time passing was the lights that gradually flickered out, flames straining against the oil and melted wax on the bottom of the candles, and slowly dimmed into nothing.
“Before…next…time…start…working…on…bending…your…leg…further…behind…”
…..
Light flickered through the curtains, straining against your closed eyelids that fluttered open- temporarily blinding your surroundings in a bright white filter as you pieced together your ceiling and pale yellow canopy curtains. The curtains gently swayed from the breeze cutting through the open windows. The smell of popcorn filled your senses.
But rather then focusing on why the window was open, or the smell- you hastily got up and grabbed your pins(laying at the side of your bed). You didn’t have much time to practice for your new tricks- just a shy 37 hours before the next show.
____
“You need to stop this.” The strain was palpable in her voice.
“You said I was doing well, and I’m keeping it that way Maria.” Defensive and sharp, your tone reassured her hissingly.
“Not like this ya ain’t!” She snapped, regret flashing only briefly on her eyes as your shoulders tensed. The cuts on your fingertips opening for what was the 5th, or even 18th, time in the last week or so. Your hand stays rigidly clenched around the pin you were practicing with, ignoring the red line running down and staining it.
“...It’s just a few more pin throws and I'll head back ,” switching your tone to reassuring you tried again to sway her this way. Maria frowned and stepped closer, but you didn’t step away this time.
“Are a few more throws really worth losing is all?” From the very start she had been there and seen your progress, from the first ball you threw, first ribbon you twirled, and now- in just a couple of days she heard, your first high dive.
There wasn’t any need for you to do such dangerous tricks! Your opening act was just two weeks ago and had more than secured your place within the circus! There was even talks from her grandfather about making you one of the stars of the Zelle Circus! So Why…?!? Why were you acting so…different?
Maria knew you were a hard worker, determined to hone your craft not for the fame of the stage lights- but for the smiles of the audience. It was that motivation that made her push for your audition to her grandfather, after all a performer who brought true happiness to the audience would ease them from the doom that was Oletus wouldn't it?
But now…now you had made things complicated. Yes you were doing your job and helping them attain what the sponsors wanted…oh so heavily wanted and emphasized - But ever since that opening night you had been far more reckless-no, downright unsympathetic about your own health!
Bruises stopped appearing on just your wrist- now they popped up in handprints underneath your tights. Your stomach and legs had grown tighter and thinner-and she would catch you stretching and holding pins still in the most dangerous of dangling positions inside the tent. No lights were on inside. Workers even came to her concerned about the odd, almost hysterical conversations you held with yourself about what the next’s day act should ensue- voice pitching from sane to frantic, angry, curious, confused…no one else beside you but your eyes unfocused as your lips spoke each word freely, clearly.
And she…she couldn’t just let her friend do that or continue this! Even if the benefits had been outweighing it (how long could a good act keep Oletus welcoming to the public? It was so early on still…) and her grandfather waved her worries off.
Whether it was the circus or…Oletus even, something was amassing a toll on you. And as your manager- your friend, she had to pull your emergency break before whatever was keeping your strings attached decided to cut them.
“…If you let me throw this final pin, I’ll join you at the mess tent.” That would be some progress…but-
“Your going to come back here at keep practicing till 3 am again though, right?”
“…3am? Maria…I’m in bed by 1am.”
“Sure,” she sighed but…that confused look you gave her might-…she’ll think about it later.
“We’ll talk about it more after dinner.”
“Ok… now then! Would you like to watch my performance Maria!” You grinned a little impishly at her- putting your all into this ‘final’ practice before her.
Maria simply grinned, quietly hoping you wouldn’t lie about being in bed tonight. After all, the people who reported you practicing so late at night heard your signature laughter.
And you never seemed to practice in just one place.
____
In the backstage, whispers floated through the air as human shadows flickered through the slits of light beyond the curtain. Against crates, spotlights, and dangling bars men and women alike exchanged hushed warnings, info, and stories that tied the latter together.
“They say when he was alive the Acrobat may have been a leading star in the circus he was in.” Sitting around an old wooden crate, a small game of poker was being played by 3 men. 8 people watched them and their conversation, they still had half an hour for the next part of the show to spare.
“No shit Jerry, everyone knows that info. I heard he was sensible enough to go to the police though, so that crosses off what he may have done in that fire.” A guy in a red shirt tossed a card into the pile.
“Just where did you get that source?” A guy in a black shirt muttered sarcastically, “Hey ya gotta fold there. And how does going to the police clear his name anyhow?”
“Makes more sense to slip away then walk blatantly in front of the authorities don't it? Sides, you heard what that old women by the market said- he had a bad temper and focused so much on the case details. That kind of guy would be easy to catch if he was the arsonist, so I think.” A man with a crew cap scratched his beard. “ Emotions and all that.”
“I got that source from the recluse by the morgue, and what do ya know Jerry , according to the police that wasn’t the only that came up related to that guy.”
“Well do enlighten us while handing over the buck will ya?” Jerry sniggered. The red shirt sighed and tossed him a five dollar bill.
“Well if that pressing matter is done, get a load of this. When the police started searching that place head to toe after the last row of guest, they found some remains in the basement. Just some teeth and a finger related to a lady who had been in the games. A lady who was in Acrobat’s and the Dancer’s game.”
“Dancer?!? No-no you just said that…Was it the…what did she call herself again?..The spider lady act-”
“ It was the spider lady’s fingers !! And according to what was in some diary entries before the pages were burned or vanished , he was the one who found her first.”
“So did the other guest in that game-”
“-But hes also the one who had this driven temper yeah? And if she was another act in the circus- maybe he really was jealous-!”
“Can ya stop interrupting everyone Tom? Let people speak and clear the air- that's why everyones gathered around here for yeah?”
Sure enough, the 8 people watching the game around the table seemed a little…shakened from Tom’s statements. The past weeks, from even before the first night's opening, had been weighing on everyone. The point of the table game was to try and distract everyone from the odd feelings creeping in on them…
Smoke had been filling the air around the tent at midnight, one time condensing harsh enough that a staff member claimed they saw a face in it. Lights would suddenly start glowing bright enough out of nowhere they would explode. Springs, or the sound of them, started to echo across the fairgrounds hours after the show had closed. This had all been before the show, when it had been far more tame. Because now-
Now if the show wasn’t running smoothly…people were paying for it. Course the boss’s granddaughter Maria said it was just rumors taking a wild turn but…how could rumors refute what multiple eyewitnesses were seeing?
Speaking of the devil, a certain performer’s laughter echoed all the way to the back of the tent as they performed. Their showtime had been increased to more than 20 minutes since their first debut. And their show always ran without problems as they brought smiles to the audience, it made sure of it.
There was no definite proof it was them who caused those accidents to their coworkers. But who felt brave enough anymore to say so? Given what happened to Gerry last week…and soon-
_____
“Your…doing…so…much…better…then…before…”
‘All it takes is a good partner’
“A…good…partner…” He agreed with that.
Before the audience, as though he was your shadow, Mike followed his favorite performers' steps. Compared to the first week, he helped you out far less when mistakes, from your rushed planning or your physical limits , occurred now. Your body was swiftly acclimating for the sake of the audience’s grin.
He had missed this. Missed the joyful smiles and laughter of children. The doubtful gazes of adults as they teetered on rediscovering wonder. All the noise and energy that once again rumbled across this once desolate fairground.
By all means, Mike isn’t interested in running anyone off his ‘turf’. If anything, he wants them to never leave…But if someones bound to keep coming back he’ll accept that. For now . As long as he can once more entertain and bring smiles to the audience again.
He won’t repeat the previous mistakes he did when he got… eager for the chance of a returning audience. This time he knows the limits of a human body- and given his new partners ideals and personality, he's not eager to accidentally break them. It's hard for him to remember a human body though given his changed one, if he wanted to complain about the fairness of it all when he has his slip ups with you that is.
But oh! You're really growing on him ya know? Your hardworking, willing to push the boundary of what to do as a performer, very sweet, have a charming laugh, and your smell is really nice against the smoke-
The crowd burst into cheers as you catch three separate pins, each one exploding a little from one end in the air before you caught it again. A misstep here and the performer’s hands would be long gone…but all they and their partner could feel was the elation of pulling off such a hard trick!
It would be nice to always stay together and keep performing like this…but even Mike started to crave moments of silence with you too. Moments where he could picture himself next to you in bed, simply mimicking your sleeping breaths and listening to your heartbeat pound next to him. It was such a nice rhythm that he had to pull himself back from how close he wandered near your living body, a breathing vessel to his non physical form. In a blink he could easily place wisp of himself inside your fleshy, breathing muscle…
The spotlight seemed to be dimming…was it already the end of today's set? Mike always wanted to linger, bask in the smiles he caused and the attention of the stage- but that didn’t seem as relevant as standing next to them now. His little show partner, assistant, coworker-
-the one that could easily leave whenever they wanted.
Mike had been putting forth his damn best effort since this circus opened up, even if it was under that ironic name- because it meant people would still visit Oletus again. It meant you would still be here…you who were living and possessed to the feet to take as many steps as you wanted, far away from here and across the whole world. But Mike?
Mike would remain here forever. A specter, unable to truly act on his own and be invisible to most eyes unless they sought business with him. It wasn’t too lonely with the other oletus residents and survivors (even hunters) still lingering around…but it wasn’t the same like it felt with you. You who was starting to be the cause of his late night smiles, the giggles that rumbled and gave away his presence during his pranks on the staff, and the tight yet fluttering feeling in his coil springs.
He doesn’t know what would happen if you choose to go. Heavens he was glad you stopped listening to that Maria girl when you did before her lake accident, she wanted to turn you against him!
‘Today was great again Mike!’
“It…was…hey…” He rested a hand around your waist. You didn’t seem to see most of it…but you were starting to feel more of his fingers. “...Lets…go…rest…by…the…lake…again…”
“The…lake? Are you certain?”
“ You…will…be…fine…with…me.”
“I…ok.” There was hesitation to your tone…a shame.
The lake was your favorite spot to relax in, your smile was always the prettiest there. Shame you let what Margaretha did to your friend distract you from it…not that you knew or did it to that girl Maria anyway! Margaretha just owed Mike a favor…
Now don’t worry about her…just focus on Mike and your smile will surely return again. He’ll make sure of it~
____
The green tents were taken down, replaced by solid red with white stripes as per request of the rising star. It would be more welcoming and capture the energy they provided better- so they claimed to the ringmaster.
Personal feelings aside for other matters… regardless of what others would speculate the relationship to be between the performer and the ringmaster given what happened to his granddaughter- The man knew to focus on the business instead. The show had to go on.
And as it went on- people had become intrigued to visit the circus by the accursed Oletus. The circus housed not only eye-catching acts…but the tamest “curse” of Oletus supposedly as well in their star performer.
With a wave of their hand, and an almost eerie wide split smile on their lips amidst tricks of wonder and danger- the crowd was captivated by the rumored “possessed” rise star. If you sat close enough in the front row, they whispered you could make out an odd shadow just behind them- although…
…so close was the dark, unnaturally large shadow to them it seemed to slip beneath their skin.