Author's Note: Hello and welcome. This 'story/poem' is written in a mostly monolog-ish play format. That being said it was written for Halloween. It is dark, it is gruesome, and it is down right creepy in some places. That being said, nothing in here is written from any personal desire I might have, and is not intended to be threatening. I simply had an interesting idea for the Halloween Season, and I wish you to have fun with what my sick mind can produce. (See : Humor) That being said, enjoy 'The Carnival' to your hearts's content. ...And try not to throw up.
Prologue
Should We
have fallen from the nest of our past in a search for our reality? Are we so
dense as to forget the past in our climb to the future? Even the dreams of
others speak of the warnings of this new future.
Should the
future limit us in the wake of its design? Should in our search, we be stronger
and faster, and sturdier, but leave with no skill and no mind? Is that what
progress means? It seems to me that as our tools go forward, we ourselves go
back.
The Apex
predators we once were. We hunted the land, the mountains, and the open seas.
Even the sky was not safe from our hands, for we ruled it viciously, and it
yielded to our demands. But that was once, and once again, we turned it down
for new toys and new demands.
Limitations
hold us bound. Not for ourselves, but limiting to society and manner. No longer
can a man deliberately cast his manner for survival and expect to be supported
by another hand. There is no sacrifice. We die alone. We die as we're degraded.
No longer man, but just blood, flesh, and bone.
…Should I
share my dreams? Should I share my aspirations? It seems to me that not even my
dreams of depression share the right to existence in this featureless land. And
as I close my monologue, to start the play so near, I invite you dear reader,
to weep, to rage, to fear. Welcome to my little play of dreams, and The
Carnival that's here.
Act 1
We pan our
view to the Mask at the gate,
And it shows
us all,
Its sorrow
and hate,
The mouth
twisted,
In a cruel
smile,
To show the
Madness of the Wearer's Fate.
It hangs on
the wall,
At the front
of the booth,
Sharing its
pain with the people who come to buy their tickets,
Eternal
tears running down the lacquered face.
It speaks to
us,
The comers
and the goers,
The emotion
in its words…
Brings pain
to us,
With every
word it speaks.
"A
ticket for you?"
It asks with
the sad mirth of one who has given up
all hope…
"A
ticket for him or for her?"
And still we
can sense the smiling tears.
I remember wondering,
Did I see
anything other than that mask?
Was the
booth even there, or was the Masque itself, the tollbooth?
Why do I
feel so sad? Why do I feel so Angry? And Why do I feel so happy?
Why all at the same time?
All I remember from the tollbooth…Is the Mask…and the emotion… So when did we
move on?
Scene 2
The first
thing we turned to in the gate was the solitary tent that barely seemed to
beckon us forward.
There were
no detractions,
No sights,
no smells to detract our attention,
It was
simply us and the Big Top,
Surrounded
by an empty lot,
And with the
lines of blue and black it beckoned us.
What is with
this place?
Why does it
feel so sad?
Why do I
look at my partners face, and see unrestrained joy, while I can barely lift
myself from this depression.
It's so odd…
I hear
noise,
I see light,
And I can
smell the peanuts…but none are nearby…
Are these
senses phantoms from what used to be?
Or are they
the potential for the future?
Maybe I
shouldn't have come…
Hmn…there's
that melody again…
A lullaby…
at twilight…
How fitting.
Oh well,
At least the
light looks inviting…
Even if it
does seem so sad,
I'm going to
go inside.
Scene 3
This is a
change.
All the
light I thought there was…
Is centered
on that crystal stage.
One man
stays while another goes,
The man
hardly moving,
Just lights
from the crystal stage.
Where does
the light come from?
It seems to
fall from above,
A dense shadow
created by the man into the very heart of the stadium.
It's so
strange…
There are
hardly any people here,
And there
are no movements from the stage.
No helpers
shift about,
No animals,
No sellers,
No food
lying about…
The place is
immaculate...
And not a
single person seems to notice.
Still my
senses are plagued,
The smells,
The sounds…
And I can
see the happiness on my friend,
And in the
other beings.
Is the Ring
Master turning our way?
What?
His eyes!
They're
sunken in,
And he looks
the face of Death…
Wait…Does
he?
…Can't…think…anymore….
Will…I…start…to…dream?
Act 2
Hmn. What is
this? A floating sensation that holds me loosely.
I rise and I
fall in this black.
I wonder
what's going on. This has never happened before.
What's that
in the distance? It seems to be getting closer.
Ah, a place
to sit, and rest. I've been walking for a while it seems.
Floating?
I've never done that.
Hmn…That's
some beautiful stained glass.
It's green
and blue and white, and devoid of the harsh reds and orange of the others.
That
picture…it shows a lady. I wonder who she was.
She's so
beautiful…Where did she come from?
…The world
seems grey compared to her…
She beckons
me forward,
And we move
towards a…
…It's
bright, and it seems so strong.
And happy.
Everything is so happy.
I'm happy.
But there's still so much grey…
The ladies
are dancing. They look so pretty and move so elegantly.
And the Men
are moving around, showing off the muscles they worked so hard for.
And the
animals! Though it smells almost fetid, they act so lively!
…Fetid? No.
They don't smell fetid.
What was I
thinking? It smells like peanuts and candy. Sweet and savory.
Hmn…A man
over there is twirling the lever for a music box…
It sounds
wonderful…but there wasn't anything a minute ago.
Hmn…that
woman is leading me to a tent…
I wonder
what's going on.
Scene 2
The acrobats
twirl about in the air, showing off their fancy movements.
The dancers
of the sky, feats of strength and skill show off beauty and grace.
Is this
where the woman was taking me?
We sit down
in chairs, gilt and cleaned, immaculate in every way.
As our
attention shifts so too does the act.
A pride of
lions march to the stage, jump through the hoops set ablaze, and sit in a line
calmly, as if not even seeing us.
Or hearing
us.
…Blue and
Black…
Again a
light shines, crystal and clear.
Beautiful
Rainbows sift through and grant us passage into the next act.
Clowns…I've always hATeD clowns….
And the
Equestrians come in riding horses in a show of feats.
But nOtHInG is wrong.
The Pegasi
glide through the air, lightning dancing like fireflies.
Where are
the riders?
I've grown
tired of this…
It seems
nothing can keep my attention.
There's sO
mUcH to see and hear and eat.
I get up to
explore with the woman still holding my hand.
She turns to
me, and I see a great smile on her face.
I scream.
She scares
me…
Scene 3
I'm running.
I'm scared.
Once I
wrenched my hand from the horrible woman, I just started running, and I didn't
look back.
I keep seeing that grin.
Not even the
attractions of this immense place slow me down.
That
stare…It haunts me.
I've never
seen something so empty in my life.
It's the
kind of wide mad grin only a maniac could make, the teeth themselves composing
the lower half of the face, sharp as needles.
I run.
I continue
to run.
Nothing will
hold me back.
I don't know
where I am.
Where is the
carnival?
Where are
the people?
The roads?
The Houses,
The trees?
I think I
left them behind…Left them all behind.
What's
this?!
Where did
this wall come from?
What?
IT SURROUNDS
ME?!
Only the one
entrance I came through to this place remains.
I have to
look back.
I have to
escape.
But she's
still there.
Where will I
go?
I'm deeply
aware of the panic.
And suddenly
I'm calm.
The calmest
I've ever been.
I'm still
afraid.
But I know
what I must do.
I turn
around, and face the woman.
And she's
there.
Act 3
I'm not
scared anymore.
I'm happy.
I'm
overjoyed with my predicament.
I feel so
alive.
The static
nearly crushes my hands, the pressure from digging my fingers into my palms
bringing excitement.
Yet still I
feel excited.
The black is
covering my vision.
I can only
see her, and for once I see fear on her face.
Moving
towards her, I find I'm holding a very sharp KnIFe in my hands.
A very sharp
axe.
And I'm
ready.
Moving
towards her,
I see a new
corner.
One SHE
backs into.
I see the
pathetic fear on her face, and I feel pity.
She does not
deserve what she has…
I think I'll
take it!
Scene 2
I slowly
raise my arms above my head…
And rip them
down in a curdling punch.
Ah, she's
knocked out…
What a
shame.
Let's bring
her to the -ErROr
I'm sure
she'll make nice friends while she's there.
Dragging the
limp form of a person you hardly know is hard work.
But it's oh
so satisfying.
Every bump,
and twist, and bend just knocks even further into the pleasant dreams they
have.
It would be
such a nuisance to wake them up when you get home.
There's
no-one to even give us a second look as
I take my captive down the alleyway to the back door of my apartment.
Just some
old cats, mice, and the random talking slime that just has to know where you
got that outfit.
Retro.
As you open
the door, it seems that your Shoppe has just turned on.
Everything
is ship-shape and ready to use.
Even your
station is clean.
Seems we'll
be having fun tonight.
At least
she's already tied to the table-top.
Scene 3
I get out
the tools of my trade, and gradually wake the woman up.
"Wake Up."
It seems the
words finally do the trick, and she wakes up.
Startled…Surprised…
"It's
time to get to work."
The grungy
basement is filled to the brim with random supplies and jars.
All with
their use.
All with
their secrets.
The woman
gradually shifts about, realizing her situation.
She panics.
I smile.
"Why
would you abandon me? Why would you stop and smell those awful roses?"
I pick up a
knife just laying around and chop off a finger.
She screams.
"You
need to be punished."
For every
scream she gives,
I simply
smile more and more.
Giving and
taking with each scream, keeping her alive even with the extreme blood loss.
I just feel
so excited.
"It
seems we're almost done."
And truly we
are.
I'm just waiting on that last line before I
truly finish and receive my prize.
"Why?"
As if that
wasn't clear from the get-go.
Why else?
"…Simple.
I hate you. And I love doing this."
With that
said and done, I can finally finish my work of art.
I rip off
the rest of her skin.
I amputate
her limbs.
I spear her
from her genitals all the way through her mouth.
And I behead
her.
It's so
satisfying.
If only I
could still hear the screaming.
I gather up
the excess blood.
It's not
really polite to drink it straight away.
I have to
test it for taint.
And get rid
of some of the body.
I'm sure a
couple of people would willingly buy the corpse with little questions as-
…What am I
doing?
What's
happening?!
WHY?!
It's-
My vision…it
fades.
Will this
life…truly be…
Is this sick
charade…real?
…My…loving…no.
Epilogue
I woke from
the nightmare of the dream.
As most of
the people did when I saw them leave the building earlier, I simply left.
Unsure what
to think about.
It was
horrible…but a part of me enjoyed it.
It was sick…depraved.
Yet I could
feel it.
I was so
scared.
Now it's
back to this depressing place of black and blue.
Little color
in the grey of the day.
I wonder how
long I spent there…Doing whatever I did.
It's
definitely not the day I entered…
Just as
quickly as the euphemism disappears, I feel that madness again.
Is it still
with me?
Can I leave?
Let me
escape!
I'm scared!
…No. I'm
happy.
I can control
this.
It's simply
another feeling to the spectrum of what I didn't have before.
I was always
depressed.
Or angry.
Rarely did I
ever feel such powerful emotion.
As long as I
control this 'thing' I can live a normal life.
Since I
stopped feeling things over a year ago, I'd always seek some odd thing.
It was just
to feel again.
I was
chastised.
I was hated.
I was
estranged.
Not a single
friend.
But not a
single enemy either.
Maybe it was
time for something new?
Maybe it was
time to embrace that self.
Maybe it was
time to completely mad.
Would I ever
turn back?
Would I ever
be the same?
I don't
think so…
Maybe the
future will tell me…
In some
leftover scat.
