The Freak Show

THE FREAK SHOW

By

NICOLE ARNOUX



The fair grounds were jammed with wall-to-wall humanity. In the rising clatter, voices jumped over one another to be heard. I walked in the blazing red and yellow door of the funhouse with Darron close behind. I tried to drum up some residual excitement left over from my childhood, but failed. The funhouse wasn't scary. It wasn't mystical, or amusing, or even interesting any more. It was just gaudy. Fresh amazement was a thin sheen of newly painted orange. It wasn't hiding anything from me.

I leaned on Darron, resting my arm around his waist. There was nothing new here. Why didn't we just go home?

"Why don't we just go gawk at the freak shows and go home like normal people." I mused.

Darron laughed, "Because this is supposed to be fun!"

I shook my head, slightly angry. "I saw a sign for the bearded lady."

"We see enough freaks walking down the street. Who needs the bearded lady."

It was almost closing time when we were finished with all of the things that Darron wanted to do, and I was still incredibly grumpy. So we decided to see one last thing before we called it a night.

There was a darkened tent sort of far off from the rest of the festivities. The sign was old and rusted, the paint flaking off in neglected piles on the ground nearby. Darron didn't seem amused, but my dark sense of intrigue was piqued.

"We've done everything that took you're fancy, it's my time now." I laughed giddily and took a step closer to the small opening.

The sign said "Come see the half man, half snake. Thrills chills and more..." Suddenly, it seemed like we were the only two people in the whole area. A feeling of intense isolation trickled down my spine as the small tent flaps closed behind us. There was only one light in the entire tent, beaming on the two of us like we were actors on a stage.

Then there was a man's deep baritone, but the voice was bodiless. "I have something to show you."

I looked at Darron, and he looked back at me and winked. Kind of cryptic, I thought, but we walked forward anyway. There were shuffling footsteps, shrouded in darkness, and we followed the noise they made until we came to a stop.
There was a throaty hiss. Darron jumped. I just smirked. "Are you afraid?" I whispered sarcastically.

"No. Shut up."

The spotlight swiveled dizzyingly fast and focused on the dark shrouded cage. Steel bars rusted until they almost looked as if they would flake off entirely. It reminded me of the sign in the front. I wondered why in the hell the fair still allowed such a rickety exhibit, but swallowed the sudden fear.

"This is what we call a Naga. Half man half cobra. It is a rarity in these parts. In most parts." The carnie laughed throatily. I felt like I had been transplanted back into an earlier era where carnivals were actually scary.

Suddenly, the man with the deep voice was illuminated in a swath of orange light. He was wearing a black cape, and had a long black mustache. But before I could get a good look at him, he disappeared.

I don't know what I expected, but when I looked in the cage it was just a naked man, but when he turned around to face us his eyes were slitted. Reptilian. His body was long and boneless. It moved with a slithering grace impossible for a normal man.

Even more shocking was below his face. The man had no genitals. Nothing, just a flat seamless expanse of yellowish skin.

"Fuck," I screeched, and wheeled back. The thing made a move towards the bars, and slithered its long forked tongue at us. It hissed, and its mouth opened impossibly wide, no human jaw would have allowed such a movement. Long thin fangs dominated its upper jaw, clear liquid poison dripping down its chin.
The thing looked me straight in the eyes, and I could feel its need on my skin. I shuddered, but couldn't pull away. Darron called my name, but it was relatively useless, because I didn't really hear him. My eyes were entirely on the Naga.

I smoothed back my hair unconsciously, and took another step closer. The cage creaked as the creature paced within its confines. I was hooked. I could feel its presence, not only in front of me, but in my mind. It was like a low thrumming, a tingling, in the back of my head. It was warm and slightly pleasant. Darron called my name again.

The snake man’s slitted eyes focused on mine. I couldn’t even blink. Its body moved like it was in thrall by a snake charmer. Undulating from side to side as its eyes stared unblinkingly into mine. I felt my hand reach out toward the rusted bars, felt my fingers close around them, paint flaking off in my hands.
Then there was a voice in my mind, or it seemed like it was in my mind because it was so soft.

“Don’t be afraid.”

And I wasn’t. Even with the clear, viscous drool that ran down its chin. Even with the mouth open wide, fangs reaching toward me. I wasn’t afraid. I didn’t pull back. My hand tightened hard on the bars, and just as I had thought earlier, it disintegrated in a pile of rust at my feet.

The Naga reached its head through the cage, sliding out with one motion. Its eyes still held mine. Then there was a loud, piercing shriek, and the spell shattered.

There was a hand on my shoulder, grabbing me, pulling me away. My mind was dazed, and I fought him. The Naga was stronger than I thought. All it had to do was catch my eye and I began to move closer again. Ignoring the insistent hands on my shoulders.
I touched it. Ran my fingers down the boneless body, sighed as its fangs grazed my neck. I wanted to be closer to it. I wanted to climb in the bars and move like it moved. Feel what it felt.

There was another scream. And then the voice of the man with the black cape. “Do not move.” It said.

I was dimly aware of Darron’s voice, his insistent screams. Then there was blackness.

I woke with the weight of cold, steel manacles around my wrists and ankles. My head rested on hard gravel. The ceiling was the red and orange of a circus tent. I tried to shriek, but there was tape on my mouth, all that came out was a muffled grunt. I turned my head and there was nobody there. Where was Darron? Where was he?

My entire body felt cold.

There was a burning sensation on my neck. Two pinpricks of sharp pain burrowed underneath my skin. It hurt too much to move even if I could have. The only part of my body that was mobile was my head, and if I moved it to the side the gravel bit and scraped my cheeks. So I stared straight up and focused on a red swath of canvas.

“Restless?” a voice said from the corner. The same deep voice from before.
I let out another muffled screech as I heard the shuffling footsteps come closer to me. He ripped the tape off of my mouth in one violent motion. I cringed as my mouth burned from the adhesive.

“Where’s Darron?” I whispered.

“You’re companion from last night? Oh, he left you here sweetheart.”

My heart pulsed hard against my chest. Worried that what he said was true, and worried that it wasn’t.

“Do you feel that pain in your neck?” He asked silkily.

“Yes.”

“That’s the Naga’s special poison.”

I couldn’t say anything to that. I didn’t remember anything except advancing toward the bars in some kind of trance, besides that everything was hazy.

“He liked you. He asked me if he could keep you.”

There was nothing I could say to that either. And if I thought the fear couldn’t have possibly gained intensity, that was when I heard that hypnotic hissing.

I heard the soft voice again, the one that was inside my skull but wasn’t mine. It said again, “don’t be afraid.” I screamed at the top of my lungs. As loud as I could manage, but the man in the cape clamped his hand over my mouth and I couldn’t move anymore.

“You are his now. I will leave you.” And the man disappeared again. My mouth was open, and I was panting. Suddenly I couldn’t seem to get enough air.

I shook my head violently from side to side. My neck felt like an over inflated inner tube as the poison worked into my system.

The hissing grew louder until he was right in front of me. I felt the eye contact, and then the blissful realization that everything was all right. The snake’s eyes, and the insistent soft voice in my head, made the pain and the fear go away. I relaxed on the hard gravel, my face and body going slack.

It moved closer to me, telling me not to be afraid in that silky smooth voice inside my head. And I wasn’t afraid. I let the creature take the manacles off of my hands and feet. I heard the metal clink to the ground.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I wanted to move. To get up and run like a banshee out of this place. But my body stayed still. I waited quiet and motionless on the ground.

The Naga slithered beside me, wrapping its boneless arms around my waist, lifting me up and into the air. The forked tongue slithered over my face, and the raspy edge of it tickled my cheek.

I felt an acidic drop of poison land on my chest, but the pain seemed very far away. The pain was nothing to me, it was like an insistent but inconsequential fly buzzing around my head.
There was a scream that welled up from somewhere in the depths of my brain. It never reached my mouth, but it reverberated in my skull. It screamed one word. PAIN. PAIN. PAIN. Over and over again.

I didn’t know what it was talking about. I didn’t know if it was my voice, or the Naga’s, or even the man with the black cape and long mustache.

The Naga’s eyes were still locked on mine, and besides the screaming, I felt peaceful. I moved my neck to give the creature a chance to finish what it had started when I felt a needle of pain. I tossed my head to the other side. The pain grew.

The screaming in my head was me. It was trying to tell me something. And it did, over and over again it tried to tell me. I began to throw my head from side to side, letting the pain grow stronger and stronger. The Naga’s arms tightened around me, but it didn’t know what was happening.

Clarity smashed over my head like a hammer blow. Along with a rush of agony so intense it blocked all thought, almost like the Naga’s insistent words in my mind. But it was clarity. My mind was my own. My own voice, my own thoughts, my own will. I slipped out of the Naga’s grasp, and fell to the ground with a smash. I dragged myself towards the exit, the gravel biting into my legs, scraping the skin off of my knees. I felt a hand close on my ankle, but its boneless hands couldn’t quite hold me.

Every movement was slow. Every inch gained agonizing. I tried to scramble to my feet, but fell on my face. I lay there, stunned for a moment. But then I heaved up onto my knees again. Ignoring the burning pain of bloodied legs.

The poison was working fast. The Naga hissed, but stayed where it was. I thought I was winning, but it was probably only waiting for the poison to finish me off.

Again, I wondered where the hell Darron was, and worried that he was all right. But right on the heels of that thought was what a bastard he was to leave me here. I didn’t expect rescue. Either he was being held captive here as well, or he was a fucking coward and had left me here to die.

I finally gained the use of my legs, and limped painfully to the edge of the tent. I could see the small opening, and the moonlit fair grounds. I shuffled as fast as I could, holding the image of freedom in my mind.

I was almost there, and then I saw someone blocking the exit. I didn’t care. I gathered what strength I had left and barreled towards the opening. I kicked the man in the black cape as hard as I could. Which was unfortunately only hard enough to stun him for enough time to get out of the tent and away from the Naga.
Once out in the open air I tried to run. All I managed was a limping jog, and I could hear the man’s footsteps as he regained his composure. I didn’t have much time.

I knew where the car was, and I wasn’t that far away from it. I reached in my pocket and felt the reassuring weight of the car keys. Thank God I had driven! I wondered again what had become of Darron, but couldn’t really think that far in advance. If the poison didn’t kill me, the man in the black cape surely would.

I picked up speed at the thought of freedom, and my ford station wagon. The man in the cape was behind me, but the kick to his genitals had slowed him considerably. I could only hope that my wounds didn’t make me even slower. I saw the big sign advertising the circus’s entrance, I ran for it.

Then I felt something hit me. At first it felt like a bee sting, but when I felt warm liquid trickle down my back, I knew it was something worse. I ignored it. My car was too fucking close. Too close for me to stop now.

I fumbled with my keys, making sure I had the right one in my hand. I could afford no delays. I risked a quick look behind me and the man in the cape was running now. I resisted the urge to scream, and saw the rusted hulk of my station wagon.

A fist connected with my face as I fumbled to open the door. I fought the blackness that threatened my escape. I clutched my keys in my fingers, and whirled around, wielding them like they were knives. He slammed me up against the car, my head connecting with the metal. I raised my fists up and jammed the key into his eye. I felt warm blood course down my hands as the man screeched in pain and terror. He released me to clutch desperately at his face. I took the moment of release to fit the bloody car key into the lock.

I frantically twisted it, feeling it slip, blood slick in my hands. I heard the satisfying click. Then he turned on me again, blood seeping out of the gaping wound where his eye had been punctured.

I clambered into the car, and closed the door on his arm. Once. Twice. And then he withdrew, shouting. I jammed the key into the ignition, turned it, revved the engine, and threw it into drive. My foot to the floor, the accelerator roared to life. My tires threw up an immense cloud of dust as the gravel churned underneath.
As the fairgrounds gradually disappeared in my rear view mirror I noticed that my back window was smashed. I wondered what the hell was going on, but was too tired to understand. It was all I could do to keep the car on the road. The adrenaline dissipated and the aches and pains in my body glaring now that the immediate danger had gone. I realized what the ‘bee sting’ had been, when I tried to lay back on the seat. A small throwing knife jutted out of my back, right above my shoulder.

If I didn’t get to a hospital soon, I would die. As it was, I could barely keep the car on the road. I was swerving from side to side like I had just downed a pint of Jack Daniels. All I could think was where were the cops when you needed them.

Then there was a loud scream. I flinched, and almost lost control of the car completely. I had a panicked moment of utter fear when I heard a familiar voice. Darron was in the back seat, a huge bloody lump on his forehead, and blood trickling down his chin.

“What the,” was all I could manage. Then I pulled over onto the shoulder of the two-lane road.

“You’re driving,” I whispered, and collapsed onto the passenger seat.



****Please take the time to r&r, I would really appreciate the help! Thanks!******