Cirque De Nuit

The abandoned carnival beckoned to me like distant music. In the dim light, I could see the outlines of a frozen Ferris wheel, shriveled circus tents, and what looked to be a colossal statue standing silently.

A few steps behind me, on the sidewalk, I heard the flip-flopped footsteps of my friend Claire, who was just as curious as me about the place. Though you could barely see her in the faded hues of night, she was a lean but muscular girl of 22, with deep brown hair and olive skin. She had tied her lengthy locks into a chignon in anticipation of our possible adventure.

"Hey...so this is it?" she practically whispered. I turned back towards her.

"You got it...the old Canterbury Fairground. Been here since 1945. But they shut it down in the late '50s." We both stood, mesmerized by its still beauty.

"Well, we goin' in there, or what?" she entreated. Even in the muted glow of the street lamps, I could see her ecstatic grin.

"Sure...yeah, if you're up for it," I replied, feeling the hair on my arms bristle. Before us stood a rather large wrought iron gate, upon which two rearing lions appeared to stand guard over the solitary grounds.

I reached forward, caressing the cold, black metal. The gate loomed over us, at what I estimated to be nine feet tall. Though I'd never considered myself a climber, that looked to be the only choice, as a heavy padlock kept it firmly sealed.

"How're we gonna get over this?" I asked Claire, gesturing towards the gate. She glanced at it for a moment, and turned back to face me.

"Easy," she answered, "we're gonna climb." How did I guess? Claire, though she seemed innocent and unassuming, was quite the seasoned adventurer. She kicked off her flip-flops, making little cracking sounds that echoed into the emptiness. In a moment, she gripped the gate, scrambling up the nine-foot iron rods, which ended in jagged spearheads.

As Claire neared the top, I feared she might injure herself. "You OK up there?"

"I'm fine!" she called, clambering onto the razor-like edges. Amazingly, she seemed unfazed as she leaped over the other side. "Your turn!"

My muscles tensed. I certainly hadn't anticipated this, but we had come this far. Before pressing further, I tossed Claire's shoes over the fence, and she deftly caught them. In turn, I grabbed hold of the frozen metal and attempted the climb. Once halfway up, thinking I had it, I mistakenly looked down...the ground seemed miles below, and I could feel my head gradually swirling.

"David!" Claire shouted from the ground. "You need help?" As my vision distorted itself, I could barely respond. Sensing my anxiety, she grabbed onto the fence once again from the opposite side, and clambered up towards me. I began to slide down the poles, but thankfully, my female companion clutched my arm just as I was about to fall.

"Alright, I'm gonna pull you up, but I'll need you to work with me," she said firmly. Concentrating, I let go of my fear, and at that moment, some inner strength overtook my muscles. Before I realized it, I, too, had jumped the fence; the two of us stood, facing the ominous shadow before us.

Several seconds of stillness passed.

"Well...let's get to exploring!" I piped up. Claire grinned, wordlessly. Gathering all our confidence, we proceeded into the black wasteland that had once been a gala of colors and merriment.

With some trepidation, I approached a rundown refreshment stand that sat upon two wagon wheels. Across the top, it read "Canterbury" in such twisted, ominous lettering that it seemed not to fit any carnival I'd ever attended. Out of curiosity, I peered into the glass window, and saw what looked to be food still inside!

"Hey Claire, come check this out!" I called. But there was no reply. I spun around. All that lay before me were the seemingly empty fairgrounds. Anxious, I bit my lip.

"Claire? Claire???" Abruptly, I left the refreshment wagon behind, and dashed through the foggy, winding maze that made up the dead bacchanal. In the haze, I could just make out the shapes of desolate carnival games and busted children's rides. After running what felt like a mile, I came to an abrupt halt.

Something didn't feel right...out of the corner of my right eye, I could make out a soft, reddish radiance that seemed to be behind the tents. What in God's...

Though I honestly didn't believe in the supernatural, I was beginning to question my skepticism. Regardless, I had to be prepared to face...something. I reached into the back pocket of my jeans; my hand fell upon my butterfly knife. It wasn't much, but it was better than being defenseless.

Steadily, making as little noise as possible, I snuck between two of the giant, ominous tents and toward the red glimmer. The closer I approached, the more the light crept across my body, giving my cover away to anyone who might've been watching. Finally, as I reached the edge of the tents...

There, standing over me, was the largest (and strangest) funhouse I'd ever seen. Unlike the obviously fake structures I'd run through as a kid, this place truly had the appearance of a small castle. It had two turrets, at the top of which were open windows; inside each was a fiery light. Its walls looked to be made of actual brick and mortar. In the dead center was a gate which, for the moment at least, was open.

It made very little sense, finding anything active here, but at the moment I had no other clues. Swallowing my fear, I stepped inside.

Beyond the gate was a lengthy corridor, with walls of the same stone that made up the outside. I placed my palm against the wall, feeling its rough texture; indeed, it appeared to be some kind of stone. With caution, I made my way through the dimly lit hallway, listening for any sort of clues as to the location of Claire.

At the end of that passageway, an arch-shaped door led into a stairway. Having seen no other option, I began to climb upward. My steps seemed to echo through the entire building...

In a moment, I heard an unearthly laughter echoing down the stairwell. A shiver crawled through my nerves...and yet I forced myself onward. Rapidly, I ascended the stairs, propelling myself to the top floor.

Once there, I faced another extensive passage, with torches placed intermittently across the walls. A rotten stench pervaded the stronghold, as if it were centuries old. Carefully, I plodded through the dimness, searching for any sort of door or passageway. The blood pounded in my head.

For several minutes, creeping along, I noticed nothing. I then paused, next to one of the sconces on the wall. Faintly, I thought I could hear the same strange laughter from before. I stared at the brick pattern...

There...a button...on one of the bricks! I pushed it, hoping that I was on the right path. My hand felt an odd sensation as a section of the brick wall faded before me. Eager, I crouched and crawled into the narrow passage.

The laughter came again, this time louder...and closer. Nervously, I pressed through the crawlspace, hoping that Claire was close by.

Instantly, an unseen force gripped my wrists. I tried to break free...and the force seemed to grow stronger. The more I resisted, the less I could move. All I remember hearing was that hideous laughter.

I inhaled...and everything began to go black.

As I lost the ability to breathe, I managed to gasp, "Claire..."