Page 2 of Circus From Hell

The creature tilts its head, but the ringmaster can’t be sure if it’s examining its creator or if the string keeping its head to its neck is coming loose.

Eyes, far bigger than the average human’s. Far greener and brighter, too. They glow so vividly that the dust particles caught in the rays dance beneath the illumination.

Its nose is sharp and small, thinning in the centre, with lips that stretch outwards and upwards, stitching sewn into the creases to keep them pulled back into an eerie smile that isn’t reflected on the rest of the face. This creation will never not smile.

The flesh is mangled and torn. It’s a light blue that reflects with a sheen under the singular hanging bulb above their heads. The ringmaster was capable of matching most of its skin, although the flesh of the attached right foot and small replaced gaps that needed filling look a smidge brighter.

The creature is undoubtedly female in nature. The breasts, small and round, and the space between its thighs unmistakably once belonged to a woman.

He’s aware of who exactly some of the body parts belonged to; some he’s unsure of.

The doctor wanted to fashion a daughter for his circus, a permanent fixture to draw eyes and ears. After failing before, he believes he has finally managed to complete the task.

At what cost will remain unknown.

When the ringmaster blinks curiously, the creature copies, just as intrigued. Its thin fingers with nails as long and sharp as daggers flex against the edge of the table, and when the critter beneath the bed rattles against the cage, the creature’s right ear twitches. The ear is human-like from afar, but if you were to look closer, you would see the thin, precise stitching that surrounds it.

The ringmaster smiles wide. The creature copies to reveal sharp, pointed, white teeth that gleam in the light.

“It’s perfect,” the doctor whispers, taking a step closer. When his creation remains still and waiting, he takes another cautious step, this one with more confidence than the last. “You will do well with me, my child.”

He reaches his hand out tentatively to rest it against its cheek. The flesh is cold and uninviting but smooth.

The doctor has plans for this one. All of his creations have come from meaning and planning. From trials and attempts and failure. But this one… This one is special. His circus is already on the map, but this one will pin its place. It will be everything he needs it to be. It will follow orders like a soldier and bring in customers like a snare.

Alas, the doctor does not know, deep down, what this creature will entail. Some of his others have died. Some have spontaneously combusted. Some, in so much pain, ate themselves to death. And one caused so much havoc that he couldn’t risk it happening again.

But some have survived; they haven’t thrived, just survived. But things will be different for this one. Covered in stitches, teeth like knives, and glowing green eyes that would pierce anyone’s soul. It will be talented. It will be what he needs.

As the creature stares at the doctor, and he stares back, there’s a mutual understanding that passes between them. He is the commander; it is the commanded. It will carry out his tasks and do as it is told.

But the doctor should know that no woman ever follows so easily. And whilst what he has created is so incredibly unknown, it is powered by the brain that once belonged in a female vessel. What will come of it? He does not know. But men are ignorant and foolish, and his own creature, his own now-considered daughter, could be his demise.

It could be his karma.

The karma for his chaos.

CHAPTER ONE

KARMA

The tearing of skin makes electricity thrum faster through my body as I pull back and rip the flesh from bone. My triangular teeth easily chew the thick meat as I dive back in for another bite, ravenous growls leaving my throat. I’ve not swallowed before biting through more chunks of skin, the beautiful noise of this woman’s screams making me too hungry to be patient. I’m straddling her waist; she kicks her legs, but it’s futile—one has a big chunk missing out of it.

The bells attached to my pink and green pigtails ring rapidly as I shake my head back and forth, effectively tearing the flesh quicker from her bicep, but no one is around to hear either of us.

Blood and saliva coat my face. She keeps screaming, fighting me, hitting me, but she doesn’t realise that makes me want it more. It’s the smell of her fear and the sound of her rapidly beating heart that makes me hungrier.

I chose her from the audience tonight because she has the prettiest earrings. Long and dangly and shiny. They’re covered in blood now, but that’s okay. I can clean them. Or lick it off.

She won’t last very long. I’ve already eaten the inner half of her left thigh, and she’s bleeding out quickly. It’s a shame I have to leave her here when I’m done and waste so much blood and flesh, but I’ll be full after an arm and a leg. I’ll bite off a few fingers as a gift.

When I latch onto her neck and rip out a chunk, she bleeds catastrophically, squirting blood across my forehead. I dive back in and lap up most of what I can. Soon, she stops screaming, stops moving, her heart going silent.

Now that she’s dead, I can take her pretty jewels.

Using the back of my black sleeve, I wipe the dripping blood from my mouth, effectively smearing it across my face. The dead woman’s eyes are still open wide with fear as I lean forward and fiddle with the clasp of the first earring and then the second. I think these will go very pretty with a silver necklace I took from a woman a few months ago.

Her fingers are thin and break off easily after I weaken the joints with my pointed teeth, and once my stomach is satiated with flesh and I’ve checked her body for any more jewels, I roll her over the wet stone floor, leaving her behind a large yellow bin in the alleyway. She’s out of sight, but as soon as the sun rises, the blood currently slick beneath my bare feet will be open for the world to see. Her long red hair peeks out from around the bin, so I quickly shove it under her head, accidentally slamming it into the wall.