Page 138 of Circus From Hell

“But you’re not a test to us, Karma,” Micha says sternly, forcing her to look at him, really look at him. “I thought you were a monster. I thought you were wrong in the head. Hell, I was terrified of Arlo’s attachment to you. But I was wrong. And Kreo? He’s wrong. You’re more than experiments and words on a page. You’re what holds this freaky little group together. You’re our stitching, Stitches.”

“That was corny,” I mutter, and he narrows his eyes on me.

“I still have the muzzle, runt.”

I’m going to ignore the fact my cock twitched in this unfortunate situation.

“Come on, Karma. I think it’s time we left, don’t you?” Soren suggests, and she looks between the four of us, an internal debate being settled. I knew she was scared to leave Kreo, to leave this circus, but we’ve both been made aware of the evil that he truly is, and now she can soundly make the right decision.

“Yeah. It isss,” she says firmly, tearing herself away from Micha and squaring her shoulders. “You four need to wait by the trailer for Snake.”

“What are you doing?” I ask as she stomps to the exit, determination set across her face.

“Finishing what my predecessor started.”

There’s no way we’re letting her go into whatever she’s planning alone.

“We better follow her,” I grumble, grabbing Arlo’s hand and running. Micha and Soren are hot on our heels, but Karma is considerably faster than us.

“What is she going to do?” Arlo pants.

“Probably something murderous and deadly,” Soren answers. He’s likely correct.

“Whatever it is, I can’t imagine it’ll end happily. Worst comes to worst, Soren swoops her up and we run,” Micha says.

Karma’s rear is all I see before she dashes through the dressing room and out onto the main stage as the grand finale is announced.

This isn’t going to go well.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

KARMA

Everyone is already on stage when I step into the limelight. The music is loud, the crowd is going crazy as the performers all do their last pieces with each other, and confetti is dropped from the ceiling when the sparklers go off.

Kreo spots me approaching him. He smiles wide and opens his arms to present me to the world like he does at the end of every finale. Like a showgirl. Like a toy.

“And here comes⁠—”

I launch a kick into his stomach that sends him flying across the floor. The performers all turn to watch what’s happening, and the crowd starts to quieten to a shocked murmur.

Kreo looks up at me from the floor. “Karma, what are you doing?”

A body slams into my side, and I stumble.

Baxter.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he shouts.

I don’t give him a verbal response. I hate this clown. I hate everyone in this fucking circus.

They mocked me. Left me out. Made me feel lesser.

My teeth sink into his neck before I comprehend my own actions. I pull back to rip out his flesh. He screams, the circus performers start panicking, and the crowd erupts into chaos as blood sprays across my face. I have no stitches in my lips; this smile is all evil and mine.

I focus on Kreo despite the people running around me, trying to get away. He’s staring at me like he’s seen a ghost, a memory, and he’s realised I’m not his little pet anymore.

A fire-eater is shoved aside as the performers scramble to get away from me. He falls into the fabric of the tent. His stick of fire catches the bottom of the tent, and the flames attach to the material like a cat up a tree.