With a hesitant sigh, Lexi reached into her coat pocket and pulled 
out an hourglass. Holding it upright in her left palm, she pointed at it 
with her right index finger. The sand shot up from the bottom half to 
the top and started swirling around. It coalesced into the form of a 
ballerina, twirling in a pirouette until she let it fall inert. 


“I’m a sand bender. Not even an earth bender, a sand bender. | 
can’t move whole rocks, just grains, | don’t know why. Maybe 
fluidity. And it’s harmless! They want to lock me up forever because 
| can control sand with my mind. Fricking sand! ‘Coarse, irritating, 
gets everywhere’, sure, but the worst | could do is throw it in 
somebody’s eyes! It’s horseshit! Absolute, fucking horseshit!” 


Lexi buried her face in her palms and screamed, trying her best to 
choke back her sobs. When she looked back up at the Man with the 
Upside-Down Face, he saw he was smiling at her. 


“That’s an X-man power if | ever saw one. The Essie P wouldn't like 
you one bit. How much sand can you move?” 


“Once, when | was at my aunt’s cottage on Lake Michigan, | 
sneaked out at night when no one was around to see how much 
sand | could bend. | made a pillar about 16 feet tall, a few feet wide, 
shaped it into a totem pole. If | wasn’t scared to death of someone 
seeing me, | could probably do more.” 


“Tell me if you like this for an act: We'll call you Sandstorm, perfect 
name for an X-man! We'll set you up with piles of fluorescent sand, 
all different colours, and deck you out in fluorescent make-up and 
body paint. To music, under a strobing black light, you bend the 
sand into living sculptures, dancing and playing and sparing around 
the ring!” 


“...L wouldn’t be in just body paint, right?” 


“The Big Top show’s family friendly, your outfit will be PG-13 at the 
most.” 


“You actually do make it sound kind of fantastic. If | could put on a 
show like that, I’d be...” 


“You'd be a star! Freaks don’t belong locked up in tiny little rooms in 
giant secret facilities, hidden away so as not to upset all the decent 
folk’s fragile sensibilities. We belong on stage, making people laugh 
and scream and puke! At our Circus, people will admire your gifts, 
not fear them. The audience will be amazed and astounded by your 
performance, and you’d be surrounded by hundreds of people in the 
same boat as you, who know what it’s like to be a Freak. The Circus 
is a family, and family sticks together.” 


“What about my real family? My friends? I'll never see them again.” 


“That’s hard to say for sure. Essie won’t keep spying on your folks 
forever; not an efficient expenditure of resources. Once they've lost 
interest you might be able to pop in back home every now and then. 
We'd even let you send them letters; old-fashioned, hand-written, 
untraceable letters. They’ll Know you're alive, and safe, and free, 
which is a hell of a lot better than being duped into thinking you’re 
dead or getting pumped so full of amnestics they forget you ever 
existed.” 


Lexi gave him a resigned nod. 


“If | do join your circus, I'll be taken care of? I’m not going to be 
starved or passed around like a piece of meat?” 


“ve never tolerated any physical or sexual abuse against my 


Freaks,” he assured her. “The cookhouse serves three meals a day 
and you’re free to help yourself, plus you'll start off at a thousand 
Fuller Fun-bucks a month.” 


“ ..Fuller Fun-bucks?” 


“We're off the grid. Scrip’s the best we can do,” he replied matter-of- 
factly. Both their heads shot up at the sound of a car pulling up 
outside. “Well Lexi, if we stay here any longer we're going to run into 
a Mobile Task Force. You can let them drag you off kicking and 
screaming and become a Scip, or you can come with me, and 
become a star! What’s it going to be?” 


Lexi knew she had no reason to trust this strange man, but ironically 
it was the fact that he was so strange that made her want to trust 
him. He was an anomaly, like her, the first other anomalous person 
she had ever met in real life. She knew he could be lying, but she 
also knew she had no hope of evading her pursuers on her own. 
The offer of sanctuary was not one she could ignore. 


“It’s for Freaks, by Freaks? You promise?” 


“By the scattered parts of the Broken God, | swear it,” he nodded. 
Sighing reluctantly, she rose to her feet. 


“Deal,” she said, shaking his hand. “But they're already outside! How 
do we even get to your Circus?” 


Manny smiled, walked over to the door she had come through. 
When he opened it, the hallway was gone, replaced by bright white 
lights and smoke, as well as the faint sound of calliope music. Lexi 
slowly walked over to the anomalous door, staring at it dumbly at 
first, but then with childlike wonder. For the first time that night she 
felt genuine joy, and her mouth broke into a wide grin. 


“How?” she murmured. 
“Magic,” was his reply. “After you.” 


She nodded, and realized she was no longer afraid but excited. Out 
of all the horrible fates that could have befallen a Freak like her, 
working for a magical Circus wasn’t half-bad. 


Once she was through the Door, Manny pulled out a walkie-talkie 
from his pocket. 


"The girl's on board, thanks for your help Masky," he said quietly to 
it. 


"Thank god. | don't know what the Foundation does to Freaks it finds 
impersonating its agents, but | bet it ain't good," Mr. Mask radioed 
back. 


"That's why it's best for all involved that we both forget this ever 
happened." 


"I'm with you there. But, just so that there's no confusion, Icky 
doesn't know you're kidnapping kids again, does she?" 


"| didn't kidnap her, | just helped her realize that she isn't safe on her 
own and that she's better off with us." 


"Whatever you got to tell yourself, man. | just can't help but notice 
you never 'rescue' any Freaks who aren't likely to draw in the 
crowds. See ya in the Library." 


"Yeah, see you then." Manny released the talk button and discretely 
stashed the walkie-talkie away in his pocket. With a penitent sigh, he 
followed his latest recruit back to the Circus. 


« So They Called Him Darke | Dread & Circuses Hub | Dark And 
Disquieting » 


Dark and Disquieting 


« A Scip Or A Star? | Dread & Circuses Hub | City of Wonder™ 


» 


“And last but certainly not least on your VIP tour is the 
Kaleidoscope!” Lolly announced as she led Victor and Iris into the 
final tent. “Designed by Herman Fuller himself sometime in the late 
19th century, handcrafted from Ravelwoods’ lumber and beryllium- 
bronze clockwork salvaged from the ruins of a Colossus slain during 
the First Occult War -” 


“You mean Fuller didn’t kill it himself, with a butter knife and one 
hand tied behind his back?” Iris asked dryly, having had well past 
her fill of the Circus’s penchant for hyperbole. 


“Please hold all questions until the end of the presentation,” Lolly 
replied with an uncharacteristic tinge of irritation. She cleared her 
throat and looked back down at her cue card. “As | was saying, the 
Kaleidoscope has been an essential fixture of The Circus of the 
Disquieting since our inception. The wood is both magic and 
immortal, and so produces EVE, which is amplified into aspect 
radiation, which is then channelled into clockwork casting circles of 
near-infinite configurability, allowing us to open Ways to any 
unprotected door we choose and even apportate the whole Circus if 
we have too. | love the word apportate; it makes me think of Harry 
Potter. 

“And that concludes our tour. Questions?” 


“Can we go through it now?” Iris asked impatiently. 


“Oh no, we have to wait for Icky. I’m not supposed to dial the 
Kaleidoscope by myself,” Lolly replied. “There...may have been an 
incident or two.” 


“Well, the Wandsman is expecting us. Would you please find The 


Ringmaster and tell her we're ready to depart.” 


“No worries. I’m here, I’m here,” Icky said as she ran into the tent. 
“Sorry, | was planning on being here first but Eugene, one of our 
Clowns, something triggered his PTSD and long story short if those 
kids weren't scared of Clowns before they are now. Victor, great to 
see you again, and...Iris, we’ve met before, right? I’ve lost count of 
how many private shows we've done for Emcee D but you were 
there for at least one of them, weren't you?” 


“I’ve seen you before, yes, though | don’t believe we were ever 
formally introduced,” Iris said, extending her right hand out in 
greeting. Instead of shaking it, Icky took off her top hat, bowed, and 
kissed lris’s hand. 


“Mmm. You are a marked improvement over Darke’s last proxy," 
Icky told her. "I’m loving the turtleneck by the way; you’re really 
rocking the sexy little nerd look.” 


“Let go of my hand,” Iris ordered through her teeth. With a reluctant 
groan, Icky obliged. Victor handed Iris a wet-one for her to wipe the 
Clown saliva off her hand. 


“I’m sorry about that. Icky can be a bit ‘presidential’ sometimes,” 
Lolly apologized. 


“I’m just being friendly, darling. She’s practically family after all. Iris, 
did Darke ever tell you he thought the Fuller might have been a 
descendant of his?” 


“He...may have mentioned it, yes,” she replied as she handed Victor 
the used wet wipe. She sniffed her hand and muttered that it still 
smelt strangely sweet. 


“Really? | don’t see the resemblance,” Lolly remarked. 


“Oh, I’ve noticed a few similarities between Fuller and the Darks 
over the years,” Icky said. “But I’m sure Iris doesn’t want to hear 
about that. Lolly gave you a tour, right? She loves giving tours. See 
anything that tickled your fancy?” 


“She spent twenty minutes looking at Gary’s phonebox of all things,” 


Lolly replied. “She asked him all sorts of questions about it, and took 
some pictures with this half smartphone, half tricorder thing.” 


“| found it interesting,” Iris shrugged. 


“Percy mentioned you were a whiz with paratech in his letter,” Icky 
said. “Seems to run in the family. | hope he’s been telling you 
equally flattering things about us.” 


“Don't call him Percy. | don’t even call him that,” Iris objected. “But 
you'll be pleased to know he does retain a fondness for your little 
travelling show. He told me to give his regards to the Man with the 
Upside-Down Face, but oddly enough | couldn't see him anywhere.” 


The two Clowns’ faces went sour at her tone. 
“Manny’s off-site today, scouting for talent,” Icky said briskly. 


“How unfortunate,” Iris said, unable to suppress a smug little smile. 
“Hopefully we get a chance to meet soon. Grandsire was quite 
eager to see how he and | got along.” 


“ll bet,” Icky murmured. “Well, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. 
Just give me a minute to spin up the Kaleidoscope and you'll be on 
your way.” 


As Icky dialled in the coordinates for Kul-Manas, Lolly was literally 
jumping up in down with excitement. 


“This is so amazing. We’re going to meet bird people!” 


“Please try to conduct yourself with some restraint. It would be 
unwise to offend our hosts -” 


“You mean ruffle their feathers?” 


“...Yes. | don’t know this for a fact, but | doubt they'll appreciate bird 
puns.” 


“You mean they’d find them unpheasant?” 


“Oh, this is going to work out great,” Iris sighed. One of the Doors to 


the Kaleidoscope opened before them, revealing its smoky white 
portal. “Victor, you have the merchandise, correct?” 


“Yes Ms. Dark,” Victor nodded, holding up his carrying case. 
“Good. Do not set it down until we’ve received payment.” 


“There you are, a one-way Way to the city of Kul-Manas,” Icky 
announced. “Lolly, sweetie, I’m still a little gun-shy after what 
happened at the Bazaar, so be extra careful. | want you to come 
back home at the first sign of trouble. If you lose your keys make for 
the Library -” 


“When do | ever lose my keys?” 
“You don't, | know, | just...” 


“l’ll be fine. | know how to take care of myself. | promise I'll be back 
as soon as we're done.” Lollipop leaned in and kissed Icky goodbye. 
“Love you Icky.” 


“| love you too Little Lollipop,” Icky smiled. “Dark, I’m holding you 
responsible if anything happens to her.” 


“Good luck with that,” Iris replied flippantly. “Victor, Lolly, stay behind 
me at all times and do not speak unless spoken too.” 


“Yeah, good luck with that!” Lolly snorted. Rolling her eyes, Iris 
marched through the Door with her two escorts. 


The Door the Wanderers emerged from was but one of countless 
others, built into the bark of a colossal tree that stretched hundreds 
of meters across and up into the sky seemingly without end. Before 
them was the city of Kul-Manas, comprised of wicker buildings that 
superficially resembled enormous and ostentatious bird’s nests. The 
sky was a deep violet, and instead of a sun or moon, it was lit by 
many shining silver orbs which the Wanderer’s initially mistook as 
stars until they saw they were gently falling below the horizon like 
snowflakes. 


Standing before them was a humanoid crow or raven, all jet black 


Specimens of SCP-625 may be subdued by bright lights (>400 
lumens) or ultrasonic noise; when exposed to these stimuli, 
specimens will enter a dormant state in which they do not react to 
external stimuli. This state will last for approximately eighty seconds 
after the removal of the offending stimulus. 


When not in a subdued state, instances of SCP-625 are hostile to 
humans. When aware of the presence of a human, SCP-625 will 
exhibit increased speed and strength,2 and will cause less noise 
than normal. SCP-625 will attempt to approach any human subject 
without the subject noticing. If it goes unnoticed, SCP-625 will use 
its claws to remove a radial slab approximately 3 cm in height from 
each ankle of the subject, attempting to leave the bone intact. Due 
to the anesthetic produced by SCP-625, the subject will not 
experience pain. It is possible for subjects to suffer from severe 
blood loss before becoming aware of their condition. Instances of 
SCP-625 will compete with each other for access to human ankles, 
if necessary. 


Upon obtaining these slabs of flesh, the specimen will attempt to 
retreat to a nearby dark, secluded place, where it will consume the 
meat. SCP-625 does not appear to use human flesh for nutritional 
purposes; rather, [DATA EXPUNGED]. Behavior alterations will not 
become obvious until the fourth time SCP-625 engages in this 
behavior. 


Addendum: All wild specimens of SCP-625 have been recovered 
from , Scotland. Due to the sparse population of this area, 
geographic analysis of recovery locations of SCP-625 was able to 
suggest a connection with a cabin owned by one Peter Murray, a 
local recluse. Interviews with those familiar with Peter Murray 
provided little information of interest, other than that the subject 
complained of frequent migraine headaches and may have suffered 
from disorganized schizophrenia. 


The subject was found dead in his cabin approximately twenty days 
after the first report of SCP-625 behavior; analysis suggests that he 
was dead for approximately one week before the aforementioned 
report. Cause of death was blood loss during an apparent attempt 
by the subject to amputate his legs below the knee with a saw. A 
journal kept by the subject was generally incomprehensible, but 


and covered in feathers. He was clad in a hooded cloak of crimson 
and gold and held a great bronze staff in his scaly, clawed talons. 


“Most auspicious greetings, fellow Wanderers,” he said with a bow. 
“lam Ickis the Wayward, Wandsman of Kul-Manas; Sailor of the 
Celestial Sea, Walker of the Astral Plane, Spelunker of the 
Dimensional -” 


“Oh my god you're a bird person!” Lolly screamed, jumping in front 
of him. “I’m Lolly! Can you fly? Is your poop all white and runny? Do 
you celebrate your birthday when your egg was laid or when it 
hatched?” 


The Wandsman stared at her in stunned silenced for a moment.