Page 80 of Circus From Hell

“Back for more, tentacle boy?”

“More like back to gloat.” I kick the trailer door shut and switch on the harsh light. Spiral hisses like a vampire and shields his black eyes.

I stop beside the chained-up box and stare intently. I could see it from the cage. I swear I heard something move inside at one point, but weeks alone in the dark start to get to you.

“Do you at least have some whisky?”

“Why would I have whisky?”

He groans, slamming his head repeatedly against the bars. I kneel down and slip my hand through, blocking his head from hitting the metal again.

“Bring me whisky,” he groans, still slamming his head but using my hand as a cushion. When he doesn’t get the same reaction, he releases the bars and starts rubbing his head like he’s in pain.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” he snaps. He rocks back and forth, his head between his knees. “Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.”

“It’s clearly something. Tell me.” It’s probably a ploy to try and get out of the cage. “I’ll get you the whisky if you tell me what’s wrong.”

He slowly lifts his head, eyes narrowed. “No.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Okay, no whisky then.” I stand and turn, and Spiral slams his hand against the cage bars.

“Okay,” he whines. “I’ll tell you. Just bring me alcohol. Please.”

Shit, he looks really desperate. There’s a sheen of sweat across his forehead, and his eyes keep scrunching in pain.

“Where do I get it?”

“My tent. It’s the black and white one in the middle. Hurry.”

I don’t hurry as quickly as he’d like, secretly enjoying the fact he’s writhing in pain, waiting for me to return. When I reach his tent, I have to cover my nose. The smell of pure alcohol and cannabis makes me cringe, and the hardest part is finding a full bottle amongst the empty ones strewn across the floor. He sometimes had a bottle of whisky with him when he came to feed me, but I hadn’t realised it was at this level.

After I pick up a bottle and turn to leave the tent, I’m forced to stop in front of that same clown. She’s standing in the entrance, head tilted as she watches me with creepy, wide eyes.

“Okay, what the hell do you want? This is getting creepy now.” She pointedly looks at the bottle in my hand. “Yes, I have your leader. Got a problem with that?”

She quickly turns and runs, and when I look outside, she’s already far from sight. Huh. She’s a strange one.

I check Karma’s tent to find everyone still fast asleep on my way past before retreating to the trailer. They don’t look like they’ll be waking any time soon.

Spiral’s eyes light up when I walk back in with the brown bottle of alcohol, and I kneel down to wave it in his face. His hand darts through the cage to try and grab it, and I swing it back.

“Ah, ah, ah,” I taunt, soaking in the angry look he responds with. “Tell me why you need it.”

He stares like he’s looking into my soul, and I recognise the look before the swirls in his eyes start to roll. I quickly look away, and I hear him mutter a string of curse words.

“You’re trying to hypnotise me right now? Seriously?”

“I’m trapped in a goddamn cage. What do you expect me to do?” he grunts, and I deadpan.

“Not nice being in there, is it?”

Spiral rolls his eyes. “You’ll get over it.”

“You won’t. Not without this.” I hold up the bottle. “So tell me why you want it so badly.”

“I need it,” he whines. “Give it to me.”