Crunch. My sneakers hit the gravel, a sound barely audible above the rattling of the metal fence I just jumped. I whip my gaze left and right, but no night security guards come running. Why would they? It’s just a crappy little carnival. Well, maybe it’s not so little.
As I take out my camera, I assess the space. Pale moonlight casts the carnival in an eerie glow, and despite it being closed, all the rides and strings of cabochons are still lit up. Pops of yellow, red, blue and blinding white break up the navy blanket of night. Lopsided red and white striped tents dot the enormous parking lot, each of them labeled with signs like ‘Children of the Popped Corn’, ‘Misfortune Teller’, or ‘Potent Potions’ carved into the splintered wood. A handful of questionable carnival rides break the skyline. A drop tower. A Ferris wheel. Some big swings. A carousel where you’d ride on the backs of black cats, snails, and toads instead of horses. The rides groan in the breeze and I shake my head. I certainly wouldn’t risk my life by getting on any of those things, but I may try to walk the wooden coaster track if it seems solid enough up close. The viewers love that sort of thing, even if my girlfriend Kady thinks I’m an idiot for doing this stuff.
I exhale, run a hand through my brown hair, and start the live stream. Already, about 2000 people are on and waiting for me. The chat goes wild. “All right, folks. Everyone in? Yeah? Matthew here. On tonight’s episode of Urban Exploring, we’re going behind the scenes of the Biloxi Carnival. Several of you asked me to hit this place up in the comments of the last video. And a couple of you even mentioned the weird disappearances linked to this place…” Here, I make an eek face for show, then continue. “So we’re here to check it out. Let’s go.”
It’s hard to keep up with the chat on such a tiny screen, but I watch as they scroll by.
BizzyBoy: Cool!
ForbiddenPlaces89: Been waiting all day for this stream!
KadyGirl: Careful, Matt, that place looks rough.
Of course Kady always watches the streams to keep an eye on me, but it’s never gotten ugly. I get in, I get out, and my viewers get a behind the scenes look at all the forbidden places. I turn the camera outward, so they’ll will see what I see as I navigate the grounds. Dirty popcorn litters the floor, along with crushed paper cups, half eaten corndogs, and the occasional popped balloon carcass. I make my way towards the coaster, but wind through each row of tents in case something catches my eye. I make a point of leaning into each tent I pass, letting my camera light highlight any and all the things inside. The thing about doing this kind of exploring is that you have to be willing to really get into the park’s things—leave no door unopened, no drawer untouched. Kady always says I’m asking for trouble, but I say that’s what makes it fun.
Ashkitten: What’s up???
Bubbles332384: What’s that brown thing????
CamCam: Ooh, is there cotton candy in there? I’m hungry.
“I’ll pop into a food tent and check.” This one’s marked DARE YOU TO EAT. “Let’s see… It’s a lot of what you’d expect. It’s just packed with equipment.” I spot a cotton candy machine filled with red sparkly floss, a slushy machine still churning deep brown slush, and a fryer. Large bones stick out of the oil, some with strips of meat still clinging to them, and I wrinkle my nose.
KadyGirl: Gross, what is that?
Barb: Ewe!!!
I couldn’t agree more. “I guess they fry their turkey legs here, but damned if I’ve ever smelled something so nasty. It’s like… I don’t know, rotting flesh.”
McGregor33: How do you know what that smells like, Matt??
I stifle a laugh. “How do I know? I accidently broke into the crematorium last year.” I turn the camera to myself and point at the lens for emphasis. “Don’t recommend. Nearly got arrested for that one.” As I leave the tent, I glance one last time at the fryer. Have I ever seen a turkey leg that big before? It’s easily longer than my arm, maybe even as long as my femur…
ZooPhile1900: Uhhh, I don’t think those are turkey legs.
I shake off the uneasy feeling growing in my stomach and duck into the next tent. Odd colored clothing hangs on one wall and a handful of tables boast various masks and headdresses. Everything smells like rubber and ash.
Dinglehopper: What the heck are those???
“Huh. This one has costumes for—” I almost say for kids, but looking closer at the masks I know that’s not true. They have skeleton masks with vein-riddled eyeballs, vampire masks with actively-bleeding teeth, and peeling-flesh clown masks that actually send a chill down my spine. I gulp and say, “For all ages, I think.” Then I hurry out of the costume tent, ignoring my own rule to thoroughly explore every inch of my conquests.
The next closest tent is the potions one, so I poke inside, and do a full sweep of the interior. “Oh, this will be fun. This caldron looks ancient.” I run a finger around the inside rim and pull back in surprise when it comes out slick with a goopy, snot-like liquid. I wipe it off on the wall of the tent and decide not to touch anything else the rest of the night.
SamuelAdams: I wonder what kind of potions they sell…
KadyGirl: Anything useful?
Blitz: Man, those look like organs in fluid!!!
I double-take and see the jars my viewer mentioned. They do look like organs. I’m sure they’re just props, but the whole thing makes the hair on my neck stand up. I swallow, pretend to nearly drop my camera, and use it as an excuse to turn towards a wall of less terrifying jars.
“Sorry guys. Sticky fingers. Nope, no organs, just these jars.”
McGregor: Boo.
Blitz: I know what I saw.
“Here, I’ll show you.” I use my free hand to pick up the bottles, one at a time. “Love potion. Go figure. Luck potion. Fortune potions. Ha! I’ll just take this one.” I pocket the bottle and then pick up another marked For Enemies. “Yikes. Not going to mess with this one.”
I start to back up and knock into a hanging shelf I hadn’t seen before. Jars crash to the floor and break, spraying glass and liquid all over. I yelp, barely getting out of the way, but my shoes are soaked. They begin to sting, and I bite my lip. I can’t end the video like this, can I???
KadyGirl: OMG, you okay?
IanSethBurns: What the hell was that?
Walk it off. Walk it off, I tell myself. “Fine. I’m fine. I just hope the security guard didn’t hear that.” Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen anyone patrolling the area, but the night’s young and I’ve got a bigger issue. My feet are killing me, and an overwhelming smell of noxious gasses rises up from the heap of spilled potions, causing me to gag. “Ugh, it smells like farts. I’ve got to get out of here.”
Once out of the tent, I gasp for fresh air. I do a cursory look for the beam of flashlight, or the wail of a siren, but I’m entirely alone. There’s several tents left to explore, but after what I’ve seen so far and how much my feet hurt, I’m desperate to avoid as many of them as I can. Where’s the security guards when you need them?
If I’m not getting chased out, I have to find another reason to end this livestream sooner rather than later. Thinking of a quick excuse, I say, “Not gonna lie, this place is much bigger than it looked on google maps. We won’t get to see all of it tonight.”
Perriwinkle: Will you do a part two?
McGregor: Oh yeah, do a part two!!!
No way. I laugh and lie, “Yeah, we’ll see. Hmm. They’ve got a really big tent over that way.” I squint to make out the sign. Maybe it’ll be the place where the security guards hang out… “Looks like they might put on some circus show in there, so we’ll definitely be breaking into that later. I know how much you all liked the forbidden zoo tour we took last month and I’d love to show you some more animals. What do you guys want me to explore next, though? The games, the coaster, or the big tent?” I hope they say coaster, because I bet I can pretend to twist an ankle and get home ASAP.
Blitz: Coaster!
Perriwinkle: Games!
BurtMcGurt: Games
BillyGoat: Tent!
WestCoastRep: Games
KadyGirl: Coaster
About a hundred responses fly by and I sigh. It’s not the answer I wanted. “Alright, looks like most of you say the games. Let’s do it.”
I jog over to the row of game tents as the cool night air snakes into my hoodie and causes a shiver to overtake me. I don’t know what’s going on tonight. I’ve illegally explored dozens of places, many of them scary by nature—private graveyards, abandoned theme parks, a dilapidated hospital. (The smell of that last one alone gave me nightmares.) But the Biloxi Carnival is different somehow. It feels different. Like milk gone sour—you don’t know it’s off until you taste it, and by then, it’s gotten you sick. Unlike every other place I’ve gotten into before, when I’ve been chased out laughing, this one has me on edge. And given the rumors— the reason I’m here in the first place— I’ll be lucky to get out unscathed. My feet continue to ache and I frown. Guess I’m already scathed.
I round a corner and come to Game Lane. Ten tents, five on each side, sit with brightly striped but tattered awnings, their sides billowing in the breeze.
Game4You: What’s that?
YikesonBikes: No way that game’s real!
FundaMental: That’s where they say it started!!!
ThrillOfIt: What started?
KadyGirl: Ugh, Matt, tell people what’s up
“Hold on. I’m looking.” If I thought the food and shopping tents were odd, the games are even odder. It’s crazy because as much as people talk about the carnival, I don’t know much about it. It’s seriously unlike any place I’ve explored before. I mean, these games… There’s Smash Skull— where you toss rocks at skeleton heads lining shelves, Organ Stew, where you put a rubber organ (I see hearts, lungs, kidneys, among others) on one end of a seesaw, then hit the other side with a mallet, launching your organ of choice into tiny cauldrons on a platform which I’m guessing rotates when the park’s open, and Shrunk Dunk, which is like basketball but with shrunken heads instead of balls. Even the prizes are weird. Voodoo dolls, necklaces made from teeth, severed limbs keychains. I’m too unnerved to look much closer at the other seven games. But there’s one I have to look at, because the people in my chat are going nuts about it.
I walk to the last game on the left and put on my brave face before turning the camera back to myself, the game in frame behind me. “This here is the Wheel of Fortune. Not the gameshow, mind you, but the infamous carnival game.” It’s a giant wheel that you spin and wait for the ticker to land on your prize. “You’ll notice most of the options are fairly benign.” I turn back to examine the wheel. “A free potion. A free cotton candy. A free ride on the coaster. But there’s one…” Here, I lean over the low partition and grab hold of the wheel. I feel a static jolt race up my arm, but shake it off, and spin the wheel until the tiniest slice, barely the width of my pinky fingernail, is stuck on the ticker. “This bit, the least likely option, says Free Private Tour. And this is where things get interesting. According to the rumors, anyone who’s unfortunate enough to land on this goes missing.” My gut tightens, but make a face like I couldn’t care less and go on. “I googled it. And the Carnival travels every so many years, so it’s kind of hard to be sure, and then also, it’s the internet so take this for what it’s worth… but I did find a couple missing people which did in fact win the private tour.”
Blitz: How do you know they won?
Cosign: They didn’t just go missing. They died.
BaitMe: How do you know it’s not a coincidence?
McGregor: No, not died. I heard they got taken.
The comments go by too fast for me to answer them all, so I focus on the ones I actually have answers for. “So I know they won, because it’s such a rare occurrence, the local newspapers usually do a story about it. Like, ‘Local Girl Wins Elusive Private Tour of Famous Biloxi Carnival.’ Stuff like that. So according to the articles I found, one sixteen-year-old girl won it about a year ago. A pair of nineteen-year-old twins won it five years ago. A sixty-five year old guy won it about twelve years ago. And the first person that supposedly won it was a ten-year-old girl. And that happened eighteen years ago.”
Billingsly: When you were born!
Cosign: She’s been gone as long as you’ve been alive!
Despite the nerves growing in my stomach I sort of laugh. I can’t believe how much my subscribers know about me. “Yeah. She went missing the year I was born. And yes, all the others have missing persons’ articles about them too, because I checked for both.”
KadyGirl: OMG, that’s horrifying.
DroidIt: So why do people play the game if they know its bad news?
Skeptic: This is BS, I’m out. Make better content, Matt!
The stream holds steady at about 4000 viewers. A part of me wishes they would all leave like Skeptic so I could go home. The longer I’m here the worse I feels, but it’s not like I can back out with thousands of witnesses expecting me to be their guide. I mean, they literally pay me for this.
CatsRTheBest: Spin the wheel! I’m just curious what’d you get.
McGregor: Oh, yeah, that’ll be fun. Then you’ll have earned your souvenir.
I cringe, but try to play it off as a laugh. “You guys want me to spin it? I mean, the park’s closed so it really won’t mean anything.” Please don’t make me spin it. The moonlight shines directly onto the spinner, like a giant warning beacon as I read the comments.
AutoBot: Spin it!
Enthused: Spin it!
RushMore: Spin it!
Shoot. “Okay, I get it. Here we go.”
I tug hard, sending the ticker clacking as it hits each dividing pole. Tickticktickticktick. I don’t know why I’m nervous. This should be a win-win. Either no one is here and it doesn’t matter, or the stupid security guards will hear this clacking and finally come kick me out. I’ll be able to go home and tend to my feet, which feel heavy and stiff.
Tick, tick, tick. The wheel begins to slow.
Tick… Tick… Tick…
My throat tightens.
Tick.
Tick.
It stops. I inhale. My slice is tiny and black. FREE PRIVATE TOUR.
My comments explode.
KadyGirl: MATT
GoofSphere: Matt, you won!
Blitz: Well that was anticlimactic. Park’s closed.
KadyGirl: Wait, I saw something moving!
DudetteInFlesh: WINNING
Crabs: Huh, Matt, I think there’s something in the far side of the frame there.
I’m still staring at the wheel, frozen by the irrational fear that something has just gone horribly wrong, when I hear it. Footsteps behind me. I whirl around—let it be the security guard, please—and hold up my hands in surrender.
“Officer, I was just…” The words freeze on my tongue. It’s not a security guard. It’s a group of snarling clowns, their flesh peeling, just like the masks I saw in the tent. I can’t move, can’t think. I’m still as stone.
“Well, hello there,” one screeches. He licks his bright red lips, revealing sharp teeth, and puts an arm around my shoulder. “It seems you’ve won a tour.”
Blitz: RUN MATT
McGregor: Run!
KadyGirl: I’ll call the police, hang on!
KadyGirl: OMG
KadyGirl: MATT
Who will help me now? I was trespassing… The chat doesn’t slow, but another one of the clowns has grabbed my camera and is inspecting it. He hums. “This needs something.” He scratches at his curly green hair, covered in mold, then chucks my camera to the floor. I gasp as it shatters, sending pieces of my livelihood flying around Game Lane.
And my heart sinks in my chest as I realize for the first time tonight, I am truly alone in a place I never should have been in.
The first clown smiles darkly at me, and says, “Now then. Step right up, son. It’s time to begin our tour.”
Like I can say no. I shuffle weakly and heavy-footed, escorted by a clown on either side, with the rest packed close behind me. We make our way to the giant tent I spotted before. It’s even bigger up close, and smells worse than anything I’ve encountered so far tonight. It’s got that rubbery smell of the costume tent, but also, dirt, animal droppings, and a deeply iron scent, which churns my stomach. Two more clowns open the door flaps and we pass by as they snicker at me. Unlike the rest of the park which was well lit, the tent is mostly dark, with only a handful of lanterns hung around the perimeter. I give the place a cursory look as my eyes adjust, and can barely make out the three rings of the main circus show. Bleachers surround those, and beyond them breaks in the tent, like tunnels, snake out, leading to who knows where. The head clown, the one with the teeth, grabs a lantern from a pike nearby and gestures towards the back on the tent, towards the tunnels. I’m shoved from behind, so I follow, my feet feeling more and more like lead by the minute.
The head clown looks over his shoulder at me. “Ordinarily, we’d start the tour with a bit more… niceties. You’d get a free treat and a ride on the coaster. But since you changed the rules and broke into the park, we’ll skip right to the end.”
“To the grand finale,” laughs a cloud with purple slime oozing out of his eyes. “It’s to die for!”
“Shut it, Killz,” says the head clown. “No one’s dying tonight.”
“Fine, Gamble.” Killz crosses his arms and glares. “Ruining all my fun. At least Gawks will have a good time tonight.”
“Yep,” comes a deep rumble from behind me. The clown in question sports an oily orange bush of hair, and wide, pure white eyes, but even without a pupil, I know he’s staring straight at me. He smiles a menacing smile when he catches me looking, and I whip around, my heart thudding hard in my chest.
Gamble? Killz? Gawks? It occurs to me they’re named for their interests, but I have no idea how that’s going to help me get out of this. Because I have to get out of this. Each cell in my body is screaming for freedom, even as I feel my limbs hardening and have to drag myself forward. Maybe I’m tired, or maybe it’s fear, but I’m also struggling to swallow.
We wind through a tunnel until it opens into a rectangle-shaped tent. A heady scent of chlorine burns my nose as I scuff over the packed dirt floor further into the room. It’s filled with huge class cages. Spot lights shine from above each one, illuminating its inhabitants.
“Welcome to the side show freaks.” Gamble slaps a hand on my back, urging me forward. “These are the finest freaks in all the land. Each and every one a unique specimen. Have a look. Go on!”
I drag myself toward the closest cage, folding my arms across my chest and wishing I could hide underneath my hoodie. I can’t stop shaking, and I feel terrible. I’m about to stare at this poor creature—this person—when it’s radiating sadness.
Slumped on a filthy mattress, it looks up at me, and I see it’s not an ‘it’ at all. It’s an old man, covered in moving tattoos. His eyes water and he smacks empty gums against each other. I study the tattoos. One shows a figure with a chainsaw hacking another figure to bits. One shows a lifeless figure swinging from a tree. Another, a figure slowly drowning as it reaches for help… What the hell kind of tattoos move? And why are they all so… grotesque? I shake my head and move to the next cage. It holds a woman, covered in lizard scales with webbed hands pressed up against the glass. A small gnarled tree fills the space behind her. She flicks a barbed tongue at me, tasting the air. Her eyes are pleading. I back up, heart hammering, and turn away.
On the other side of the tent are two other cages. One has a set of conjoined, albino twins swaying helplessly in the center of their cage, the other holds a young mermaid with pale purplish skin and fish eyes, splayed on a rock in an enormous tank of water. Old, young, twins. Boys, girls… wait.
Something flickers in my mind, a hint of an idea. All those articles I read. The people who won the free tour. Five missing people. Five side show freaks. It can’t be… “Are these—?” Oh, hell no.
Gamble starts to laugh as he shoves me towards an empty glass cage on the other side of the lizard woman. “As the latest Private Tour winner, I’d like to welcome you as our latest freak. In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re turning to stone—”
“Living stone!” interrupts Killz.
“Yes.” Gamble punches Killz in the face, sending him sprawling to the dirt floor, then opens the door to the cage. My cage. “You’ll be our living stone boy!”
And I’m still frozen, this time by shock. All the clowns break into maniacal laughter, the sound splintering my ears. The freaks look at me. All of them are frowning and shaking their heads. All of them were once like me—human, then kidnapped and changed. But I have a slight advantage none of them did. I was livestreaming when all this started, and Kady said she was going to call the police. If I can just hold out a little longer the cops will come and save all of us. Right?
“Get in there,” says Gawk, his meaty hand rough on my back.
“That’s a good boy.”
“Isn’t he a disgusting shade of gray?”
The glass walls are so high, so thick, so final. Something in me snaps. I dig in my heels.
“No.” I push against the clowns trying to cage me, and growl, the sound like stones falling together in my chest.
Gamble turns his blazing eyes on me. “What was that?”
I just need a few minutes. A stall. It’s a long shot, but it’s the only shot I have. I just hope I’m right about the clowns’ names. “I wanna make a bet.”
All but one clown gasps. Gamble’s eyes light up and he takes a step towards me. “What kind of bet?”
“Give me a difficult task. An almost impossible one.” I break into buildings late at night. I never get arrested. I am made for this. “I bet you I can do it, first try.”
Gamble takes a step closer. He’s so close, I smell his breath. It’s like smoke and blood. “What do you want if you win?”
I exhale and steady my voice. “You let me and the other freaks go.”
The other clowns mumble to each other, too low for me to hear. The other freaks sit up, looking at each other with bare shreds of hope.
Gamble hums. “And if you fail? What do I win?”
The question pulls me up short. What more could they want? “You get to keep me as your… stone boy.”
A sharp, annoyed laugh breaks from Gamble’s terrifying mouth. “I already have you. You’ll have to do better than that. I want a real… gamble.”
Whatever I offer, it has to be big. It also has to be something so motivating I can’t fail. What do I want to get home to? Or rather, who? I can’t believe I’m going to say this. Through gritted teeth, I grumble, “I have a girlfriend. If I can’t complete the task, you can take her, too. She’ll be a bonus freak, if I can’t complete the task.”
All the clowns begin to whoop and cheer, egging Gamble on. It’s a good deal, they say. Two for the price of one, and really we’re free, they tell him. The more freaks the better, they insist.
Gamble strokes his painted white chin, eyes glowing, teeth bared. After a forever long minute, he turns to me, puts out his hand and says, “Deal.”
The second I shake, the world goes black, like I’m falling through thick clouds and I can’t catch my breath. I land with a thunk, and the sound of skittering pebbles echoes through the emptiness. My eyes adjust, and it’s not empty, it’s mirrors. Mirrors and mirrors and mirrors on every side. Florescent lights shine overhead, casting pale light onto the metal floor below.
“Welcome to the Fun Maze,” Gamble says, his screechy voice reverberating from everywhere and nowhere. “An impossible maze to get out of even with unlimited time. But you only have ten minutes. So….Go.”
Ten minutes. Will the cops get here before then? Wait a minute, where is here, and what if no one shows? Never mind, I have to move. I turn in what feels like an endless circle, looking for a break in the glass, for the beginning of the maze, but all I see are a million reflections of myself—gray, blocky, inhuman. Even my eyes have turned to stone.
I swallow gravel, and reach out to feel my way out of this spot, but my granite fists hit a mirror and shatters it.
“No, no,” laughs Gamble. “No touching in the mirror room. That’s cheating. You better move. Time’s a wasting.”
Move. Move? On impulse, I shuffle forward towards one of my bizarre reflections. It doesn’t get closer like it would if it were a real mirror. I close my eyes and step out. When I don’t hit a wall I open my eyes. I’ve stepped into a hallway. To the left is a mass of tangling vines, to the right, a series of more mirrors. I take a chance and trudge right. These mirrors are the funny kind, the ones that make your torso a mile long or your legs an inch high. They do almost nothing to make me look any less like a giant rock in a hoodie, but I push along, following my heart more than my eyes, because nothing is what it seems at first glance. The mirrors crack as I pass them, allowing boiling goop to spill out onto the floor. It’s all I can do to wade through it, and even though my feet are completely stone now, it aches like I’m walking through fire.
At the end of the hall, the goop vanishes, as does the hall behind me. My hands shake and my dusty throat goes numb. So, I can only move forward then… I turn back, and find a three-way split. The hallway to my left looks bare and easy. Definitely not the right way. The one to my right has spikes galore, all shiny with blood. I gulp and look straight ahead. Coffins line the wall, their doors creaking with undead things behind them.
What I wouldn’t give to be able to have my viewers with me now. ‘Where do I go?’ I’d ask, and I’d watch their votes roll in. But if they were here, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I’m alone and terrified and turning more and more to stone as the minutes pass. Though I doubt I’d bleed, I don’t think I could get around those spikes, so I’m left with the path straight ahead. The one with the coffins.
Chest heaving, I surge forward. The things in the coffins moans as I pass. Neon colored smoke begins pouring out of a coffin to my right, then BAM! The lid flies open and a skeleton bursts out. It wraps dry fingers around my throat, but I swing, connecting rock to bone and the skeleton turns to dust. It happens again and again, the smoke warning me just a second before I’m attacked. I decimate six skeletons by the time I reach the end of the hall. I choke on the bone dust, waving a hand to clear the air, and move forward as the hall closes up behind me. Though I’m terrified, my heartbeat has actually slowed—I guess stone can’t race.
“Five minutes,” sings Gamble.
My time is halfway up and I’ve hit another a fork. This has to be close to the end, which means my next challenges will be harder. But unlike the other halls, these two paths give me no clues. They’re both pitch black and endless. I close my eyes again and listen. I’d broken into mazes before. They all have a tell, a way to say you’re on the right path. It’s how the people who run it know how to get through without memorizing the layout. My gut tells me Gamble’s maze has something too, if I can just figure it out.
“Three minutes!”
Think, think. What’s different? A discordant music box song tinkles through the maze, setting my teeth on edge. A smell, like gasoline and rotten eggs comes from every direction. But there, right there— a breeze. It’s so slight I nearly miss it. It grazes my left cheek, one of the only parts of me that still feels human. A breeze means outside, and outside means the end of the maze. I turn left.
I know for sure I’ve made the right choice, because the maze explodes into chaos. The floor starts to slam front and back, left and right. I try to grip the walls, but my thick stone fingers can’t find purchase. I’m thrown side to side as I clomp forward. One step. Two. I step again, this time onto a stationary silver plate and a jolt like lightening makes stars burst behind my eyes. Somewhere, Gamble is laughing.
“One minute!”
When the stars clear, I look ahead. It’s the end of the maze—it’s the real world just outside! I see real stars and the red and blue flashing lights of a police car. I’m almost there! The last ten feet of the hallway begins to tilt and sway. It becomes a spinning tunnel. It’s rolling so fast that when I launch myself into it, it tosses me around like wet laundry. My stones thud and crack against the tunnel walls. My stomach heaves, my brain hurts, but I scramble for everything I’m worth. I am less than ten feet away from my freedom and I’m not giving up.
“Ten, nine, eight—”
I reach the edge of the tunnel. It’s spinning so fast the real world is nothing but a blur. Wind sucks me from behind, like I’m caught in a hurricane, but I crush my fingers into the edge and hold on for my life. For Kady’s.
“Five, four, three—”
I hurl myself out, landing on the grass with a sound like a rockslide. Tears pour from my eyes, as I slam my rocky fists against the ground in victory. “I did it! I beat you!”
Somehow I start laughing. I’m relieved and happy and—Gamble appears over me. He’s not smiling.
“You lost,” I say, trying to steal my nerves. “Now let us go.”
He cackles, then says, “As if I play fair.”
Killz appears, holding a hammer. He lifts it high, then aims straight for my head.
“No, no please!” Everything goes black.
**
A headache wakes me. My throat is tight and dry, my mouth gritty. I crack an eye open, but it’s far too dim to make out my room. Other than a slice of moonlight shining on my bed, it’s dark. I spy my favorite pillow wedged between the wall and my bed, and I want to grab it, but my entire body aches.
What was I doing before I fell asleep? My thoughts slide through sludge to reach the surface, everything fuzzy and faint.
Beside me, Kady snores. The sound has always reminded me of a little of a ticking clock, but tonight it’s extra bad. It’s almost mechanical.
“Babe. Babe, you okay?” Through the pain, I reach out to rub her shoulder.
It’s covered with thick fur.
“What the—” I bolt upright as a spotlight kicks on overhead.
I wince and throw up my hands to shield my eyes, only to find they’re grey, granite, inhuman.
Kady stands and turns to face me. The fur— pure black—covers her entire body. Her eyes are black, beady, and there are eight of them. She’s also got eight arms, and a bright red diamond on her chest. The clacking I heard wasn’t her snoring, but her feelers, clicking by my ear. She’s scared and changed and it’s all my fault.
As if I play fair…
He’s out there, I know it. I stand and slam a hand against our glass cage, sending a crack through the wall. The audience looking at us gasps and pulls back. Among them, deep in the crowd, I spot Gamble. He smiles and blows me a kiss.
“Come on, folks,” he screeches. “Come and see the Stone Boy and Black Window Girl. Don’t be shy. Step. Right. Up.”
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