Circus of the Disquieting: Folie à Duhh - SCP Foundation

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1932

*

The lights dimmed. The voices and words that rang out through the room were reduced to mere murmurs, hushed tones, and chairs creaking. Everyone’s eyes were trained upon the stage in front of them, thick curtains blocked view from what laid behind it.

Iris Dark, beloved daughter of Mr. Percival Darke, sat in the front rows of the hall. For Mr. Darke, the sights of the hall with its exquisite delicacies from beyond the third dimension (so kindly sponsored by Ambrose Restaurants); the thick curtains, worth more than entire states; and guests that could only be vaguely described as humanoid, dressed in their world’s most costly attire, was not a new, nor unfamiliar sight for him.

For Iris, though, none of it was familiar. She stared at those sickly human abominations, wearing dried snakes’ skin, woven into geometrically impossible shapes. The smell alone of these culinaries were enough to drive her into an ecstasy beyond any of her body’s or mind’s senses.

There was one particular individual — she couldn’t quite place what felt so off about him. He was tall, but not too tall. Wearing a red-striped suit and a fancy big tophat, so big that she was amazed that he could balance it on his round head. He was definitely obese.

A little earlier during the festivities, every guest had introduced themselves — as one does. Even Iris did, and she really didn’t need to, considering her father was the head of one of the most powerful anomalous agencies on the entire globe. But she did it anyway, out of formality’s sake. And she practised in front of a mirror for hours without end for the perfect introduction — she couldn’t show any faulter in her power and image.

But the man she was staring at hadn’t introduced himself. No name, not even a nickname, no identification, nothing. Just the occasional smile and glance around the room — awfully quick ones, too — standing in a corner for most of the time. A strange man, indeed.

The curtains opened. Iris’ irises were fixated upon the stage.

There was an odd device standing in the center of the stage. A bright orb, surrounded by magnifying glasses made out of zinc and bronze, entranced the young Iris Dark so much, she almost forgot what it felt to blink. A control panel, equipped with various buttons and levers, was affixed to the side of the machine.

”Ladies and gentlemen,” a resounding voice sounded. Noises of metal clanking and gears spinning became audible. ”I welcome you to the presentation of the greatest device you’ll ever witness—”

Footsteps. A proudly standing man, clad in thick robes, stepped in. Gears, metal spikes and pulleys extruded out of the man’s every patch of skin. Each step was heavy, with a scent of rust in the air. The noises of ticking and grinding gears, hisses of steam and metal hitting metal only grew louder with his presence. Iris was amazed.

”—the Kaleidoscope!”

If one’s eyes weren’t trained on the curious device in the center of the stage already, now they definitely were. Bouts of mild clapping sounded through the hall. Iris thought she was the loudest.

The mechanical man raised his arms, equally as converted as the rest of his body, to quiet down his audience. ”Please. I haven’t even demonstrated my machine yet!”

The man hurried over to the control panel, flicked a few levers under the curious gaze of the audience. Iris held her head up high to see each movement the metal man was making with the device’s flurry of settings. He pressed a button and turned back to the audience. ”The omniverse is a vast expanse of infinite possibilities; have you never wished to see every one?”

The device started spinning.

”With the Kaleidoscope, the struggle of transport across universes, pocket dimensions and non-dimensions will be a thing of the past!”

Each of the magnifying glasses positioned themselves downwards in a straight line. The light of the orb shone through them. A sight never before seen by the young Iris, strange tiny dots began to converge into a rectangular shape where the device was pointing at.

Soon enough the shape became clearer and clearer, until it was a fully fledged, mahogany doorway. Every attendee was holding their breath (or an equivalent thereof) — her father smirked, nodding silently.

”This, my dear guests, is a Way. Portals, if you will,” he gestured theatrically, ”There are such Ways all around you, immaterial to your every sense. But they’re ther—”

Percival Darke raised his hand. ”A hundred billion dollars,” he said, his pride radiating in his voice.

It was silent for a while. The metal man spoke up again: ”… With all due respect, Mr. Darke—”

”200 billion!” a fleshy nightmare of tumours and eyestalks reverberated from the back rows.

”Sir, please—”

”A trillion dollars!” another person shouted.

The entire hall soon erupted into waves of shouting, raised arms, and higher and higher sums. Iris looked around, taking a certain joy from seeing all of these individuals, so friendly and cordial upon arrival, go at each other at their throats. She watched as the metal man’s expression turned from that of worry into a small smirk.

Percival Darke remained calm and composed. He placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder, looked at her and smiled. Iris smiled back.

”350 quintillion dollars!” was the final offer, made by a walrus-sized 8-ball that was only partially intersecting with this universe.

The metal man looked about the crowd of people. His metal joints creaked and whined as he did so, before resting again. ”Well… anybody who can beat that offer?”

The room was silent. Not even his joints creaked. ”It’s settled, then—”

Percival Darke raised his hand once more. Iris could feel the weight of a thousand pair of eyes settling on them. ”400 quintillion dollars, as well as the fifty percent of the profit made by Universe #34B86954620.”

The room was silent again, but now for a different reason. At least a minute passed — Iris knew, because of the metal man’s ticking.

A man stepped forward. The strange, morbidly obese, tophat-wearing man. The fat-ass had been standing in the corner of the hall for the entire presentation, just silently observing the proceedings. He stepped to the stage with a raised arm, everyone’s gaze fixed upon him now.

Upon seeing him from up close, he was uglier than she first thought — a greasy beard, adorned with deep crevices, lips dry as the desert, pimples all over. He was smiling, though — a wicked smile.

Fat-ass spoke: ”What did the robber say to the clock?”

Metal man was perplexed. ”… Excuse me, sir—”

”HANDS UP!”

Fat-ass threw a ball onto the floor, which burst into a million pieces. Black smoke leaked out of the shards that quickly tightened around the lungs of anyone nearby. Eyes became watery, coughs for air being the only sound one could hear for some time.

Percival enveloped his daughter in the giant velvet cape of his, and held onto her tightly. He retrieved a gas-mask from his literal pocket-dimension on his pants, and pressed it against Iris’ face. Through the thick lenses of the mask, she saw Fat-ass dashing forward with surprising agility, tackling the metal man to the ground, and taking his device with him.

He opened a doorway and stepped through. The doorway closed and the man was gone. The device was gone with him.

After the smoke dissipated did Percival Darke dare to peek from beyond the safe boundaries of his cape. Iris took a peek as well, the ramsacked stage and the faultering stance of the metal man slowly rising to his feet. She took the mask off, breathing in the still sickly sweet air.

A cry of pain rang through the room. So loud, it reached another frequency entirely. It was the metal man, hunched over, on his knees, clasping at his face. ”No, no, no!”

He was kneeling right where his creation lied moments prior. What Iris could only presume to be years of work had been puffed out of existence. There was a flyer with grease and thick oil marks on the stage. The metal man, upon spotting it, held it up to the light, the words ”Herman Fuller’s Circus of the Disquieting!” still clearly visible on the faded colors. And in the middle the Fat-ass’ face, grinning mischievously.

The other participants converged around that single sheet of paper, and looked at it with such hate and anger, Iris thought the flyer would disintegrate into dust. She stared at those faded, yet colorful words and that ugly visage for some time.

*

Now

*

Lolly hid behind a corner, her hot breath dissipating in the unfeeling air surrounding her. Her heart was thumping in her chest, she could feel it sounding in her ears. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Lolly fiddled around with a door control panel, while her back was pressed tightly afgainst the wall. The footsteps grew nearer and nearer, Lolly squinting her eyes to not witness the oncoming bloodbath of her blood and guts.

But the door finally opened, and Lolly hurried inside, the door sliding shut behind her. In the darkness of the room, her ears were piqued by the sounds of footsteps growing closer, before converging right outside the room—

And they went on. She let out a long exhale, as she could feel her breathing slowing down, her heartbeat slowly beating at a normal pace again. She fumbled for a lightswitch. Her hand went up and down along the wall, ’til it eventually hit the switch, and flicked it on.

Everything was plunged into a stark white, her squinting to make out anything in the blinding brightness. There were shelves. Rows upon rows of them. Lolly took a second to admire the vastness of the room and the items on them.

She walked past them, continuing on on her mission, but never averting her eyes from the flurry of curious items fully — an inside-out plushie, a red super-ball, and something that reeked of bananas. She wasn’t here for any of those items, though. She was here for the Kaleidoscope.

There was a heavy metal door marked with ”Vavluable Items Storage”. Looking to the door’s right, there was yet another control panel. She didn’t have the skills to hack into the panel — heck, she was surprised it worked just then. With no knowledge of circuits, she opted to just type in numbers and hope for the best. Surprisingly (or maybe not so much), the door slid open. The Kaleidoscope was behind that door, inside of that room, she could feel its presence. All of those nightmares of the past weeks would be gone, Manny would be okay again, and—

Him. He’d be released from his prison. She didn’t know what he was truly capable of, but there was a reason why Manny and Fuller had locked him up for good. Maybe, just maybe, it was for the best that he stayed locked up, if she didn’t do what she planning on doing. Never to see the light again, to feel wind brushing past his skin, that sensation of—

Electricity sparked through her body. The figure of a man, holding some sort of weapon in his hand, turned into a haze of images. Lolly tumbled to the floor unceremoniously.

”Lock her up now,” a female voice sounded.

Her eyes became heavy, her limbs went limp. All she could do was to breathe, until even that sensation went dark.

*

Icky sank to her knees. The tears welled-up in her eyes, her hands clenching onto the carpet below. She couldn’t move, nor could she breathe; her eyes wide open in an expression of sadness, anger and disgust.

Tabernackle watched as Icky fell to the floor. She didn’t know how to respond to any of this — whether to be reassuring, angry at her for scaring her customers away, or if she should just leave through the back entrance. Tabernackle the Great gave out an ethereal sigh and moved closer to the folded-in stance Icky’s back was doing.

Tabernackle looked at Icky. Really looked at Icky, down to her heart and soul. There was nothing, but pure pain. She had clients and customers before from worlds far weirder than those of the circus. They came to her for help or just for a nice chat. People came to her spilling out all of their deepest secrets, problems they never could tell anyone. Icky was one such person — a rude one for simply barging in during a session — but one such person nonetheless.

Tabernackle took a deep breath in and approached Icky. ”Geez… okay. Uhm…” it sounded in Icky’s head. She briefly turned to look at Tabernackle. ”So, eh, well, how do I put this, I could help you find her.”

Icky jumped to her feet. Her fingers embedded themselves deep into Tabernackle’s soft tissues, that sensation causing her to wince slightly. She lost herself in Icky’s eyes for just a moment, before she snapped out of it.

”You can do it?” Icky said almost too fast for the ear to hear.

”Y—yes. But only if you compensate me enough for my troubles. I gotta pay rent. You know how the library is about this sorta stuff,” Tabernackle stammered slightly.

”The circus got all the wealth in the world. What do I need to do?”

Tabernackle pointed with her fingers at the glassy orb. ”Think about her. Good memories.”

Icky finally let go of Tabernackle, who stepped away just in case she came close to her again. Her soul stopped beating when Icky inched just a few inches closer to her again, but she only placed the orb on the table next to her. Icky sat down at the table, her breaths stammering.

Icky placed her hands on the orb, her hands feeling as cold as they looked. She closed her eyes tightly to retreat back into her headspace, to venture deep into the bowels of her mind.

Her breathing slowed down, and she remembered.

*

Lolly rested against a pillar in one of the far-off tents of the circus. She was noticeably smaller, younger, her pigtails only reaching down to her shoulders. Her head was buried in her hands, tears seeping out between her fingers.

”What is it, clowny-missus-frowney?” it suddenly sounded from right next to her. The person that voice came from was young, as young as her. She stood over Lolly, so quiet she didn’t even notice her walking in. It startled her a little.

The girl smiled. ”Did I scare you? Sorry, didn’t mean to!” She sat down right next to Lolly.

”So, what is it now? Did you eat too much of that black cotton candy or did you forget your milk? Which one is it?”

”I want to go back home.”

The girl just shrugged. ”Fine.”

For the first time, Lolly looked the girl in the eyes. ”You won’t persuade me to stay?”

She shrugged again. ”I could do that. But I won’t. I know that you won’t listen to jackshit I’ve got to say. I could mince my words with the best grammar you’ve ever heard, but I know that that’ll do very little to persuade you from doing anything. So I won’t.”

She just stared into that girl’s round, flimmering, eternal eyes. Lolly lost herself within them, before abruptly snapping out of the experience. Red flushed into her cheeks, and she averted her gaze again. The girl smiled.

”Now, get up, tomato-face, before Mr. Fuller spots us not practicing in our dorms.”

The girl stood up. Lolly, after much hesitation, stood up after her. The girl stretched her hand out at her, much to her surprise.

”My name’s Icky, by the way.”

*

Icky gasped a loud gasp. Her entire body was sweaty. Tears welled up in her eyes from being torn from such a memory. She tried to hide those tears by obscuring her face with her dark hair. But Tabernackle already knew what she thought.

It was then that a glimmering Way back to the circus opened up beside Tabernackle. Icky knew she could read her thoughts, so she didn’t bother with any formalities. She just stepped through the Way, with Tabernackle trudging behind her.

*

A pounding headache was the first thing Lolly felt upon awakening. That distinct pain she had felt so many times before traveled from the deepest crevices of her brain out to her skull. It was so deafening, she almost didn’t hear the squeaking in her ears.

”What are you doing here?” a female voice squeaked in the dark room. Obviously the woman didn’t squeak like a rat, but in Lolly’s ears she might as well have.

The woman thundered down her arms onto that paper-thin desk. Lolly thought it may break and the woman would fall on her face like a sorry bag of potatoes. She didn’t, but it still made for a hilarious image in her head. Lolly giggled, and all of her pains seemed to go away. The woman’s expression was unreadable in the dim overhead light, but she was silent for a while. She looked over at someone in the corner, who Lolly hadn’t even noticed until just now.

”Is this funny to you?” The woman trained her full attention back to the clunt.

”You sound like a chipmunk!” Lolly practically wheezed. She was rocking her head back and forth from all the giggles, the woman thought it might pop off.

Seconds ticked by, and as Lolly didn’t show signs of stopping anytime soon, Senior Security Chief Lyly Crevali turned to her partner, shook her head, and the two exited the room.

*

Matt Mattson leaned against the interrogation room’s metal door and took several deep breaths in and out. His heart was racing, sweat rolling down his face not unlike from a waterfall, his arms and legs jittering beyond compare.

”She getting to you?” Lyly asked in a calm, reassuring voice.

Matt wanted to answer, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even look the love of his life in the eyes.

”We’ll crack her eventually. It won’t be long, ’til she spills out all of her secrets and she gets shipped off to some facility in Europe,” was the best she could make up on the fly. Matt didn’t seem fazed. She wasn’t even sure if he had even heard her or not.

”Why must it be a gosh darn clown?” Matt muttered under his breath. Lyly wrapped her arm around her lover. She looked him in the eyes. He looked back. And for a short moment, his breathing and heartbeat eased up.

”Hey, hey. Don’t you think about that clown,” Lyly said. ”I’ll handle her, all right? You go back to the security station. You can watch from afar, okay?”

Matt took a deep breath in and held it a little. ”No. No, Lyly, I can—”

Lyly gently pressed her finger against Matt’s lips. ”That’s an order, Chief.”

They stared at each for a few more seconds. Each other lost in each other’s eyes. In the slow, rhytmic bumping of their heartbeats.

*

The clown alley was a small trailer, so unassuming betwixt the giant tents of the rest of the circus. In actuality, it was an extradimensional space way larger in the inside than outside. It functioned as a dorm for all of the circus’ clowns, both big and small, obese and slender.

What it also functioned as was an ICU for the clowns, and that was exactly what Dr. Tinkles needed right now. He oversaw Manny, his upside-down eyes shut tightly, while keeping an eye on his vitals. He pressed his comically large stethoscope against Manny’s chest. To his surprise, Manny’s heart was beating. Quickly.

The door to the trailer crashed open. Icky entered, and she wasted no time in retrieving a few submachine guns, plus their ammunitions from under a clown’s bed.

Aside from functioning as both dorms and an ICU, the clown alley also functioned as a weapons storage facility. Icky and Lolly kept all of their guns and machinations of destruction on the undersides of the clowns’ extradimensional beds (magically altered to be the most comfortable ever). As soon as she appeared, Icky wanted to leave again. Tinkles stopped her right then and there.

”Where is Lolly?” he said, deep down knowing he was scared of the answer. She didn’t look him in the eyes.

”Jesus Christ, Icky! Where the fuck is Lolly?”

A flurry of clowns, slender, obese, small, tall, began to surround them. Many watched the events from the shadows, some got a bit too close for comfort. What they had all in common was an expression of concern riddled on their faces. Icky broke down into tears. ”They took Lolly.”

Tinkles couldn’t say anything. He just stood there and stared at Icky. ”Those Emcee D sons of bitches took Lolly,” Icky said again. Her hair was obscuring parts of her face.

He finally snapped out of his stupor. ”What, no… you gotta be mistaken. Victor Chan would never—”

”He? No. But Iris would. Iris Dark.” Her hands balled into fists.

Tinkles wanted to ask another question, but took a look at those submachine guns and chose not to. No, instead, Tinkles threw his stethoscope to the floor and straightened up.

”I’ll go with you.”

Icky’s tongue was stuck in her mouth. Another voice immediately sounded behind her: ”I’ll go with you, too.”

The person that that voice came from was a round, zebra-stripped performer, no taller than a dwarf. Yet their voice was strong and determined, fearless of anything.

”No, you—” She got cut off.

”Me, too!” another one sounded, this one tall and spindly.

”Take me in.”

”I’m with you.”

”Count me as well!”

”No one fucks with the circus!”

One by one, they rose from the shadows, each and every one of them clad in gear adorning them from head to toe. Guns bigger than their bodies rested comfortably on their shoulders. Icky couldn’t believe her eyes. She looked back at Tinkles, a smirk going across his face.

”All right,” Icky said with renewed vigor.

The crowd of clowns erupted into applause, giggles, chuckles and bouts of confetti.

”You have to stay here,” she said to Dr. Tinkles in all the commotion.

”But—”

”No butts,” she pointed at the prone figure lying on the stretcher, ”Manny needs you now more than ever.” Tinkles didn’t retaliate. He simply nodded.

*

The clown watched as the menagerie of clowns left the room, barely stifling back bellowing laughter. He saw everything through that poor bastard’s upside-down eyes, like a passenger in an airplane. Only that Manny’s head was the airplane and he the hijacker.

He saw some literal multi-limbed, cat-headed lady introduce herself to the doctor, Icky giving the doctor a tight hug, then storming out with the rest of those clowns.

There was a slight sting in his side when the lady made eye-contact with Manny, no, with him. There was a moment where he felt his breathing stop, until the lady averted her gaze again.

Dear ol’ pally-pal Bobble didn’t wanna give up his plane just yet.

*

The headaches dissipated much to the dismay of Lolly. She enjoyed that overly high-pitched tone of whoever those peeps belonged to. She giggled, until the memory started being not so funny anymore.

When everything quieted down, she only had her own thoughts to go back to. In the darkness of the room there was nothing she could spot. Only rough shapes, outlines of the table in front of her, the chair she was restrained to, the rattling of the beryllium cuffs against her wrists. Only mere silhouettes, nothing concrete.

The interrogation room’s door burst open. Lolly shielded her eyes, and was glad when the door heaved shut again. The woman from just a few hours ago was there again and sat right opposite Lolly. A wicked grin adorned her face.

”So, where were we—”

*

Lyly couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. All that there was was a barrage of sugary smells, scorch marks so hot she couldn’t remember what it felt like without them. Her chest heaved into heavy motions, desperate for the slightest shrivel of oxygen.

She tried to reach for her gun, still buckled to that leather belt of hers. But she couldn’t move. Her head was filled with excruciating pains. And as the life seeped out of her body, the shape of a clown walking past her, Lyly Crevali thought her last thought:

Matt.

*

With a swift draw of one of her guns, bullets raced through the air, precisely on Lolly’s restraints. When she could move her arms freely again, Lolly leapt up from the chair and embraced her lover in a tight, soul-squeezing hug. It was nice to feel her hair again, her skin, her body against hers.

Icky pushed Lolly away, much to her surprise.

”What the frick did you think you were doing?!”

Lolly was taken aback. ”It was Bobble! He took me, and he tortured Manny, and I couldn’t—”

Icky embraced her in a soul-squeezing hug yet again, her face deep in Lolly’s hair. ”Let’s just get you back home.”

”No! What about Manny?”

”He’s being cared for right now by Missus Magick. Some protective spells and he’ll be fine, and so will you.”

Icky looked into her beautiful, azure eyes.

”I love you,” she said softly.

The smell of gunpowder and clown make-up filled the air, accompanied by wailing howls and desperate screams of the dying.

”I love you, too,” Lolly answered and kissed Icky.

*

She was gone. All that she was, all that she aspired to be, those hopes and dreams — gone. Matt sat at the monitors, having watched it all play out from afar. He felt his heart stop for just a second, before he collapsed onto the floor and cried. Hard.

*

Bullets zipped past them in a hail of destruction. The velvet curtains and concrete walls were torn up into tiny bits, hurtling past Icky and Lolly. They took cover behind a corner, the guards rapidly approaching their location.

With a firm grip, the right stance, and a loaded cartridge, Icky unleashed a blizzard of bullet fire from her hiding spot. The bullets flew right through the men and women clad in gear, their blood painting the walls, floor and ceiling behind them. When all drops of blood trickled out of these people’s bodies did Icky stop.

She pulled out some more ammo from her pockets and reloaded her gun. She charged through another hallway, the adrenaline reaching all the way up to her head. Lolly didn’t move. Entrenched in thought, she called out back to her lover, who stopped dead in her tracks.

”The Kaleidoscope!” were Lolly’s only words, before she charged down the corridors in the complete opposite direction. Icky let out a silent gasp, and sprinted after Lolly. Lolly knew where the device was. She also knew how valuable and destructive it was in the wrong person’s hands.

Ms. Iris Dark was one such wrong person — self-centered, power-hungry and greedy. There was no chance the circus would grant such an individual this much power. There was no chance Lolly could grant such an individual with this much power.

*

Tabernackle spread out her many arms in front of the prone figure lying on the stretcher. Runes and ancient incantations, too bright for Dr. Tinkles to see, formed over, on and around Manny.

”Could you please, erm, look away?” Tabernackle asked in that humble voice of hers.

”Excuse me?”

”Well, I can’t really perform with anybody watching.”

”Don’t you do this on the regular?”

”Yeah! But usually when I do it, I ask of the attendees to close their eyes, turn around or step out of the tent for a few moments!”

Tinkles gave out a sigh. Praying to whoever god was watching them, he prayed for Manny’s safety. He did as he was told. Immediately upon doing so, Tabernackle proceeded with her mind-fortification spell. She chanted the ancient words with such precision: ”Chirgarroh llorum buddrll. Chirgarroh llorum buddrll.”

The chanting only grew in intensity. So much so that Tinkles could hear the words reverberating down to his heart. Until it suddenly stopped. Tabernackle was still, as still as a statue, and as silent as one. Only the creaking sounds of the stretcher filled the tent they were in. Slowly, Manny rose back up to his feet.

”Manny, can you hear me?” Tabernackle’s ethereal voice asked. He did not respond.

His eyes rose to the level those with Tabernackle’s. In those all-so-familiar eyes, there was nothing Dr. Tinkles recognized. Those pupils seemed to go on forever, staring straight into his soul. That wrongside-up mouth moved into a crooked frown.

With the speed of lightning, Manny’s hand shot up and enclosed itself tightly around Tabernackle’s neck. He bared his teeth, eyes wide open, as he choked the life out of her. Tinkles wanted to do something, anything. But once those hollow eyes met his, he was as if petrified. A sculpture motionless in someone else’s gaze. He knew it wasnt Manny in there anymore, but something far more sinister.

Manny threw Tabernackle to the ground, but not before lunging at her with one of the crude elements lying next to him on a silver tray.

Raising the sharp implement high above his head, he stabbed Tabernackle all over. Her wails vibrated through the fabric of the tent, as near blinding light shone out of her wounds. Purple blood began to stain the tool and Manny’s clothes.

Tinkles rushed into action, all of the adrenaline and clown milk rushing through his nervous system. He placed a kick in Manny’s chest. Manny tumbled to the ground, where he thrashed around like an infant, crying and manically laughing all the same.

”R—recite them…”

”What?!” Tinkles’ eyes darted from Manny to Tabernackle.

”Recite t—the incantations…”

He could think straight again. The ice in his brain thawed out. Manny rose up from the ground, bloodied scalpel in hand. He looked at him with a twisted smile, his eyes lit up brighter than the most fiery pits of hell.

”Ch—chir…” he stuttered, his tongue frozen in place.

Manny Bobble smiled a wicked smile, before he charged at Dr. Tinkles. His arms and legs wailed wildly through the air. The image of a marionette was what came to Tinkles’ mind, and that of Chucky the killer-doll with that little knife of his.

”Chirgarroh llorum buddrll!” Tinkles screamed from the bottom of his lungs. Manny tumbled to the floor. Like an infant tumbling down a flight of stairs. The scalpel left his hands all the same.

For a moment, Manny just laid there, face-down. But then he rose to his feet again. Tinkles grapped the scalpel, pointing it at his colleague and friend. The bloodied scalpel was shaking in his two, way too large hands, his eyes never leaving Manny out of his sight.

Manny grunted, rubbing his temple. When Tinkles looked him in the eyes, the darkness that had filled them seconds prior had disappeared. Life had returned in those eyes. ”What… what is—” Manny’s words were quickly cut off by Tinkles wrapping his arms tightly around him.

”It’s good to see you back, Manny.”

Tinkles looked over his friend’s shoulder, only to be greeted with the stagnant figure of Tabernackle the Great on the cold floor. He immediately stood up and rushed to the magician’s side. Tabernackle coughed out purple drops of blood, floating on the ceiling. She had a smile on her face. ”You d—did a pretty fine job there…”

She coughed out more blood. More than should have passed through her mouth. It seeped into the earthern ground below, staining the deepest of water reservoirs, before Tabernackle moved the edges of her mouth into one last smile.

Tinkles gave her a farewell in his head. Manny was just confused and horrified.

*

Bobble screamed into the metaphysical void. He screamed, and screamed, and screamed with no end. Ripples were sent all throughout it.

Then he saw a man. A little man sprinting through some corridors. Physically, he was fine. But his heart was broken. Shattered into billions of fragments

He had one last trick up his sleeve. In the end, Bobble would have the last laugh.

*

A bullet here, a bullet there. A bullet everywhere. She charged down the corridors. The smell of cream pies, bubble gum, iron blood and so much more flew into her nostrils. It was almost mesmerizing.

The Kaleidoscope was exactly where she remembered it being. She looked around for a while, before spotting the simple carabiner mechanism of how the device was strapped down. She broke open the clamps. Once unlocked, she had to figure out a way of how to move—

”LOLLY!”

It was Icky’s voice. But not as vibrant and confident as it had been just minutes ago. No, it sounded booming, as if her ears were about to pop out of her skull. Lolly realized too late that that wasn’t a result of Icky’s voice, but the shot of a shotgun unloading right in front of her.

Lolly tumbled to the floor. She reached for her chest and there was no blood. No innards. No gaping hole or whatever else she had imagined. Quiet, heaving breaths unfolded on the ground right next to her. And the smell of blood.

Icky convulsed, blood spurting out of a gaping hole in her chest. Seconds turned into hours. She could see each contortion of her partner’s soft, pink flesh, each sound of a drop of blood. She snapped out of it. And without even thinking, Lolly grabbed Icky’s gun and unleashed a hail of bullets on their assailant.

Matt Mattson leaked out blood from every orifice imaginable. He stumbled to the floor, just like Icky had, and crashed his head against the Kaleidoscope’s console. Lolly was too worried to notice. She cradled Icky’s warm, wet body in her arms. She waived away a streak of Icky’s jet black hair to see into her beautiful eyes. Tears built up in her eyes. Icky herself waived aside some of Lolly’s hair. They stared into each other’s eyes, near motionless, locked in silence.

He heard a voice in his head. In the darkest pits of his mind. He didn’t know who the voice belonged to, but it told him of a chance. A chance to avenge his loved one.

There was still some life in him left. Twitching fingers, blinking eyes. He neared himself toward the device. Inch by inch, he crawled toward it like some maggot on a corpse. Rotten, near dead.

”B—behi…” Icky stammered out.

There was this moment, where Lolly couldn’t understand anything Icky was saying. Like white noise on a TV. Too late did she realize what her partner was uttering. And when she did finally realize, a Way had been opened.

The entire room was consumed by every color unimaginable. Up-beat music straight out of the circus’ calliope boomed in their skulls. Lolly pressed her hands against her ears, but not even that was enough to drown out the noise.

And then Bobble stepped out of the Way, in all his glory. Everyone laid there, frozen. He righted his fly, looked around, and let out the most soul-quenching scream ever heard. It was a scream of joy, of celebration.

From the top of his lungs, Bobble yelled: ”GUESS WHO’S BACK!”

*

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