《The Tent: A collection of short stories》 “Simon and Piper”: The Funhouse
over at her husband. Now, youre Mr. Punctual? Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
"Simon and Piper": Funhouse: Chapter 2 Babe? Babe, wake up," Piper whispers. Simon forces his eyes to open. He is greeted by only darkness. Pipers breath on his right cheek is the only indication she is there. Oh, man. BabePiper, what happened! Jeezus! My head feels like someone has been playing tennis with it. Where the hell did that maniac woman go? ThatThatWhatever. What was that, an ogre? A hag? Goddamn that was one ugly bi! Simon, quit it! Okay. Please. I dontI dont know what that was. What she is. All I know is she tapped that damn cane of her''s and we ended up in here. WhereverHereIs. I am so sorry, Piper! I thought walking would be a better choice than sitting on the side of the road. I was wrong. I cannot believe this bullcrap. What exactly did we just see? SomethingWeird. And creepy. Yeah! Simon readily agrees. Climbing to his feet, Simon pulls Piper into a tight embrace. He tries forcing his eyes to adjust in the inky darkness. Even so, he is unable to see anything in the pitch black surrounding them. Put your arms out, Piper. Try to find a wall. We can ease along it until we reach a door. There has to at least be a door. Okay. Several moments pass, in which Simon and Piper feel around for a wall, a window, or a doorany door. They are forced to stop when their endeavor proves to be fruitless. How is this possible? How big is this room? Simon groans. I dont think it is a room, Piper says, fear in her voice. Remember what was outside the tent? The blanket of darkness you almost fell into? I thinkThats where we are. Blanket of dark, Simon begins. Loud barking in the distance causes Piper to grip Simons forearm. Simon wraps an arm around Pipers shoulders and draws her against him, straining to hear. Dogs? Why would there be dogs? The barking gets closer and Simon tilts his head in order to figure out which direction the sound is coming from. It seems to be coming from all directions at once. Oh, man! This aint good, babe. The clamor of claws scraping across a hard surface soon accompanies the insanely loud barking. Simon squeezes Piper tighter and closes his eyes. The soft cry which escapes his wifes lips nearly breaks Simons heart. Whatever the hell is going on, one thing is truehe has failed her. I love you, Piper. Simon, I need to tell, Piper? Simon hollers into the darkness, no longer feeling the pressure of his wife against him. Piper! Piper, what are you doing? Spinning in a slow circle, Simon tries to pinpoint where Piper has gone. The barking has also ceased, replaced by utter silenceand darkness. Piper? Oh, jeezus! What have I done? Babe, where are you? Simon stops yelling as something brushes the bottom of his legabove his right ankle. Remaining completely still, Simon waits or it to happen again. And it does. Whatever brushed him lightly the first time, it goes in for a second passmore forcefully this time. What the hell? Simon says, looking through the darkness at where his feet should be. What the freaking hell? A loud hiss fills the darkness and Simon is hit from behind. Simon sprawls onto what he can only assume is the ground. Rolling onto his back, Simon struggles to see what attacked him. However, the creature stays out of range. Only the loud hisses the creature makes clues Simon in that it is still there. The unseen creature circles Simons prone body several times before seemingly melting away into the darkness. Simon makes his way to a standing position.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Piper? Simon resumes yelling. Babe? Im here, Piper replies. In the darkness, a wide grin overtakes Simons face and he breathes a sigh of relief. His heart hammers in his chest and he reaches a hand out in front of him. Babe. Thank goodness. Keep talking, so I can find you. I am here! Pipers voice says again, this time from another direction. What? Babe, stay there. Dont move. Ill come to you. Come to me? I am here, Pipers voice says from a third direction. No. I am here, another voice and direction. And here. Simons stomach leaps and he tightens his jaw. Clenching both fists at his sides, Simon briefly closes his eyes. This isnt happening. Hell, nah. This isnt happening. Piper? Honey, where are you? If you can hear me, follow my voice. Come on, baby. Aw, damn! This is messed up! A glimmer of light far off catches Simons attention. He stumbles toward the tiny light source, one hand outstretched to catch himself should he trip on an unseen obstacle. Arriving at the object, Simon finds himself in front of a glowing mirror. Reflected in the mirror, floats the head of the ringmaster, eyes shut as if she is fast asleep. Simon backs slowly away, his brow creased with apprehension. The ringmasters yellow eyes draw open and she looks straight at Simon. Narrow slants resembling the pupils of a venomous snake lock on Simon and stay there. What? Youre not having any fun, Simon? the ringmasters head coos in Pipers voice. We cant have that. All around Simon, mirrors rise up seemingly out of nowhere. In each mirror floats the ringmasters laughing head. Simon gazes around in utter terrornot for himself, but for Piper. What has this crazed maniac done with his wife? ======================================================================== Simon? Piper yells, climbing to her feet. Simon! Placing both hands in front of her face, Piper backs into the surrounding darkness. She takes a moment to gather her courage before once again attempting to find a wall, door, or window. A faint scratching, to her left, and Piper angles her head in that direction. Shuffling now. The sound of someone dragging their feet upon the ground. Piper stays quiet, listening as the shuffling gets closer. A faint light appears a few meters in front of her, and a gaunt figure melts out of the darkness. As the figure gets closer, Piper recognizes it as a circus clown. The clown is dressed in a clown suit of various shades of purple, even the hair sprouting from its goofy hat is purple. The shoes on the clown''s feet are the source of the loud shuffling--being easily ten sizes too large. The clown approaches at a slow gait, studying Piper with keen interest. Piper still keeps silent, carefully observing the clown as it gets closer. "Alice?" The strange clown inquires in a scratchy voice, tilting its head awkwardly. "Is that you, Alice? What are you doing down here? Did you forget something the last time?" Piper''s mouth twists into a scowl of displeasure. She takes a backward step, away from the insane clown figure. The clown simply takes two steps forward. The clown''s eyes narrow and its purple-colored lips turn downward with disappointment. "You''re not, Alice! What are you doing here? I shall bring you before the Ringmaster! You will not get away!" "Don''t you dare come near me...You freak!" Piper yells, yanking off one of her shoes and brandishing it. The other hand, she balls into a tight fist. "Come near me...And I''ll kill you!" "Oh. Will you?" the clown says in a mocking voice. The clown chuckles softly, hiccuping noises interrupting his maniacal laughter. His shoulders heave up and down as he slowly circles Piper. An eerie purple glow emanates from the clown''s eyes, making him look even more manic and crazy. "You will kill me? I think not! It is more likely the master will deal with you. You are not my Alice! You should not have come here. No matter. You will never leave." Quick as lightning, the shuffling clown lurches at Piper. Wrapping both hands around her throat, the clown squeezes hard. Not hard enough to break her neck, but hard enough to cause slow asphyxiation. Piper tries to inhale but finds her airway blocked. She drops her shoe and uses the same hand to claw at the clown''s offending fingers. The other hand, she slams into his temple again and again. The clown only laughs more insanely, maintaining his hold on Piper''s throat. "Hmmm. You are not my Alice. But maybe...You will do." Piper''s eyes widen and she grows more desperate, dizziness from lack of air starting to set in. She uses both hands to claw at the clown''s eyes. Sticking one long nail into the inner corner of the clown''s right eye, she pushes down and to the side. A soft squishing sound reaches her ears as her nail goes into soft sclera. Pain causes the clown to bellow, but he only tightens his grip of Piper''s throat. She twists her fingernail in harder and jiggles it around, destroying more of the soft eye tissue. Blood runs over her fingers and Piper struggles to remain conscious, disgusted and exhausted from oxygen loss. With a loud yelp, the clown releases Piper and shoves her away. Piper sprawls backward on the floor, gasping loudly for air. A few feet away, the clown stands holding its face, blood running between his middle and index fingers. "My eye! You destroyed my eye. Alice would never have done such a thing! You will not escape. I will kill you. But, first...I will kill your lover. I will make you watch. You will see. The clown shuffles away, muttering loudly the entire time. His words sound as if he is communing with an entity Piper cannot see. Piper climbs to her feet and watches the clown go. The faint light which accompanied the clown fades away and Piper is once again surrounded in darkness. "Oh no, Simon. Simon...Where are you?" "Simon and Piper": Funhouse: Chapter 3
Simon exhales loudly, in an effort to collect his wits. He stares up at where he assumes a ceiling would be. This is just too damn much. This place, losing Piper, that damn laughing head. They should have taken a plane. Then, they wouldnt be dealing with this mess. Next time, if there is a next time, theyre taking the damn plane. Simon returns his head to a level position and glares at the mirrors surrounding him. The ringmasters shrill laughter vibrates his eardrums so violently that he fears they will burst. He reaches up to one ear, expecting to feel a warm trickle of blood. Nothing. Well, that''s good. Contemplating his next move, Simon glances from one mirror to the other. He takes a step toward a mirror to his right. The reflected image of the ringmaster, in this particular mirror, stops laughing and winks. The lips pucker and she blows him a sarcastic kiss. The laughter again, this time in earnest. Simon studies each reflected image. Stepping in front of the neighboring mirror, Simon leans closer and scrutinizes the face within. Are you looking for something, Simon? the head in the mirror mocks. Perhaps, you believe your wife is in here? With me? Im afraid she is not. She is with my dear friend, Percy! They are having a really good time! More laughter. Simon is unbothered. He moves from mirror to mirror, searching for clues. His silence, and unconcerned attitude, strikes a nerve with the ringmaster. All of the mirrored images halt their laughter at the same instant, studying Simon. What are you doing, Simon? What are you looking for? Simons says nothing. He ignores the giant floating head in the mirror and continues to scrutinize the reflected images. Purple light appears at the seam of each mirror and the ground begins to tremble under his feet. Simon steels himself, refusing to be dissuaded from his task. What are you doing, Simon! the ringmasters many heads inquire in an angry voice. What do you think you will find? Anything which will allow me to kill your crazy ass! Simon barks. You like that answer, you old witch? The reflected head nearest Simon narrows it eyes, a smirk turning up one corner of its painted lips. The voice which issues from the mirror is raspy and full of menace. Old? I am not old. I am ancient. I was around long before your kind crawled from the muck. I will be around long after your kind is dust. You are nothing to me. You cannot kill me!Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Then, why the hell do you care what Im looking for? What does it matter what Im doing? Just continue laughing your crazy ass head offAnd let me do what I do. Dont worry about me. The ringmasters face contorts and her snakelike eyes flash from bright yellow to eerie purple. The light seeping from each mirror intensifies until it nearly blinds Simon. He uses an elbow to block the light from his eyes. Impudent human! Always so stubborn and arrogant! Always have to have the last word! You will not find what you are looking for. I will not allow it! Around Simon, the mirrors shatter one by one. Shards of glass fly through the air. Several large pieces bounce against Simons face, neck and armsdrawing thin rivulets of blood. Simon chooses to protect his face and neck, shielding them with his arms as much as possible. The mirror in which the ringmaster initially appeared, remains intact. She glowers at Simon from across the short distance. You will not find her. And you will never leave this place. With an angry growl, the ringmasters head disappears from the mirror. The mirror explodes, sending glass and metal into the air. Simon barely misses being impaled by a large shard. Darkness envelopes him again and Simon shakes his head in frustration. Oh man! ============================================================================ Piper is seated on the ground, knees drawn up to her chest, eyes and ears searching for signs she is not alone. A sound like a small explosion splits the silence, and Piper tilts her head to hear better. An explosion? What could? Simon! Piper climbs to her feet and races, unthinking, toward where she believes she heard the explosion. Oh no! Simon! Answer me! Its Piper. Simon! Piper blindly stumbles through the darkness. A snapping sound nearby draws her attention. Before Piper can react, a large net enfolds her body and she is drawn upward, kicking and screaming. The net eventually settles, but Piper continues to scream and kick. Judging from how fast the net was moving, and how long it took to stop, Piper assumes she is dangling from quite a height. She isnt wrong. Simon, Im up here! Can you hear me? Im up here! Nothing. And then, shrill laughterjoined also by the odd hiccupping laughter of the clown. SimonIm up here! the ringmaster mocks in the pitch black darkness, her raspy voice full of bitterness. Im up here! Ha ha ha!
Im up here! the devilish clown chimes in. How patheticHow she whines and cries. Pipers body trembles with fear as the perilousness of her predicament begins to set in. Whoever, or whatever, these people arethey are definitely insane. And they have no intention of letting her or Simon leave here alive. She is not my Alice, Master! But I think she will do. Can I kill the other? Can I keep her, Master? I will treat her nicely. She can be my new Alice. You will do as I say, Percy! Find the other. Bring him to me. It is time for the final test. Only the test can decide their fates. You know the way things are to be done. Yes, Master. I will find the other. I will bring him to you. Although it is dark all around, Piper knows when the evil clown leaves. The clowns oversized shoes scuff the ground, and his baggy clothes rustle noisily. He is going to find Simon. A test to decide their fates? What kind of test? "Simon and Piper": Funhouse: Chapter 4
Sometime later Piper is awakened by a sudden explosion of light hitting her closed eyelids. She blinks rapidly, trying to see. From high above, Piper watches as Simon is led on a rope to the center of the tent. So they were still inside the tent? But how? The insane clown, sans his right eye, yanks hard on the rope encircling Simons neck. Simons wrists are also bound. He yanks on his bindings, unfazed by the cruel clown leading him across the floor. Piper repositions her body so that she is kneeling on the nets ropes. She reaches an arm through and waves at Simon. Simon, Im here. Im right here, baby. Im here. Simon glances up and spies Piper, a weak smile crinkling the corners of his eyes and drawing up one side of his mouth. I see you, baby! Although, I am a little tied up at the moment. Ill get to you as soon as I can. Piper grips the net with both slender hands and peers down at Simon, unable to suppress a tiny giggle at his unexpected joke. Thats Simon. Always finding humor where there is none. Down below, the ringmaster crosses her arms over her chest and scowls discontentedly. Tie him to the post and drop the other one! the ringmaster orders in a raspy voice. So we can begin the test. The clown securely fastens Simons rope to a large pole at the tents center. Afterwards, he crosses to another pole and unties the rope found there--unceremoniously dropping the net holding Piper to the floor many feet below. She hits the floor hard, crying out and grasping at her right ankle. Simon pulls against his rope, trying to get at his injured wife.
You crazy son of a bi! Be nice, Simon! the ringmaster interrupts, raising her gold-tipped cane into the air and waving it in Pipers direction threateningly. You should be careful how you speak to my servant. Simon silently seethes, wanting to tear both the ringmaster and her clown henchman into a million tiny bloody pieces. However, she is right. For now. The ringmaster approaches where Piper sits nursing her sprained ankle. Piper recoils as the vile woman draws closer, eyeing her with suspicion. Tapping Pipers ankle with her cane, the ringmaster grins evilly, her eyes sparkling with purplish light. The pain in Pipers ankle disappears. Piper looks down at her ankle in disbelief. The ringmaster turns to Simon and extends her arms in an exaggerated gesture. See? All better. No need to have such brutal thoughtsCoursing through your insignificant mind. The ringmaster twirls in a half-circle and grins widely. And now! The test! The ringmaster snaps the fingers of her right hand and two chairs appear from nowhere. She snaps her hand again and Piper finds herself being repelled backwardand onto one of the sturdy chairs. Another finger snap and a second Piper appears. Both women stare at each other in utter shock. Chains snake across the floor and bind each woman to their assigned chair. The ringmaster grins more widely and leans forward on her cane. And nowThe fun part. The two chairs, and their occupants begin spinning clockwise. Forming an odd figure eight, the chairs traverse as if on a hidden track, spinning rapidly the entire time. The ringmaster and the one-eyed clown chuckle with glee, clapping their hands loudly. Simon watches in horrorknowing whatever is coming will not be good. Once the chairs stop spinning, a large cannon rises from the tent floor. The ringmaster takes off her purple top hat and bows low in a sarcastic gesture. She cruelly meets Simons gaze. Your test will be to pick which of these two womenIs your true wife. Which one is Piper? Choose wrongAnd she dies. Horribly, Im afraid. A cannonball leaves a very nasty hole. I wont do it! Simon bellows. OhThen, she dies right now! the ringmaster threatens. She snaps her fingers and a lit match appears in her hand. She shrugs nonchalantly. The choiceIs yours! Just do it, Simon! one of the Pipers says. Just do what she says! the other Piper says at the same time.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Simon looks from one identical woman to the other. He studies them both before nodding resignedly. Okay. Ill do it. Great! the ringmaster says, blowing out the match. Now, we get to play. Percy, stand behind the cannon. Be ready! Yes, Master! Percy positions himself behind the cannon, grinning his usual insane grin. Simon tenses as he considers the implications of the game he is to play. A wrong guess could be the end of Piper.
The ringmaster grabs a chair seemingly out of nowhere and spins it around. Straddling the chair, she stares over the top at Simon. We shall begin the test. EachPiper will tell you a fact about themselves. You will decide if it is either true or false. Would the real Piper lie to you? You must get two answers out of three correct, orWell. Do you understand the rules, Simon? Yes. Good. And by the wayNo emotions allowed. Emotions can be so telling. Ive turned them offSo that each Piper will appear as lifelike as a piece of clay. Have fun guessing. Simon swallows and waits for the first Piper to speak. The lifeless mannequin of a woman turns her hazel eyes on Simon and utters a solitary solemn sentence. I have strong feelings for your brother, Piper One says in a dull voice. Huh? Simon says, eyes bulging. What? You heard what was said, Simon! the ringmaster barks. Is the statement trueOr false? Simon glances from one Piper to the other. His eyes shift as he tries to think of any time he has ever suspected his brother, Nate, of creeping behind his back. Never. The statement has to be false. Its false. Thats a lie. Piper would never cheat on me! The ringmaster grins maniacally and narrows her eyes. Sorry, Simon. That one was true. Simons mouth gapes and he is momentarily stunned into silence. No! Thats a lie! Youre purposely trying to split us up! I have no reason to trick you. I already have the upper hand. Time for the second round. The ringmaster twirls her cane in the air and the chairs perform another spinning figure eight. They stop moving again and the ringmaster rotates her head on her shoulders in boredom. Im pregnant, one of the Pipers says, voice low and emotionless. Pregnant? Simon says. "II think thats. Piper doesnt want kids. She told me so. I dontI mean. What is your answer, Simon? True or false? Simon takes a moment to study the Piper who has spoken. Truly study her. He exhales deeply, hoping he has chosen correctly. ItsTrue! The ringmaster roars with frustration and whirls her black cane in the air. The chairs commence their dizzying spin a third time. So he was right. Piper is pregnant. One more question. Best two out of three. No pressure. Final round! one-eyed Percy cackles from his spot behind the cannon. Simon swallows yet again and his stomach muscles grow tense. The ringmasters appearance once again becomes that of the old hag, her black talons tapping the wooden chair back. Final round, she says in a snakelike hiss. I married you, because I thought I was pregnant. If I had not thought soI might have married Nate instead. Hed already told me he loved me. The night of Sheridans party. He never understood why I chose you. He said he could offer me a better life. More security. For the babys sake, I had to tell him no. But then, there was no baby. I love Nate. But I love you too! Tears pool in Simons eyes and he bites down on his lower lip. He studies the Piper who has spoken very hard. With a trembling voice, he turns in the direction of the ringmaster. That statementIs false! A rumble like thunder feels the tent and the ringmaster bellows in anger. Purple ribbons of electrical energy spark and ripple within the tent''s massive interior. Leaping to her feet, the ringmaster swipes her chair away and points threateningly at Simon. No! No! NO! Percy grimaces and backs away from the cannon, his one good eye warily bouncing everywhere. NOOOOO! the ringmaster yells. As Simon watches, the ringmaster grows in size, her bones snapping and popping. The long talons on her hands stretch as well, growing to the size of large kitchen knives. The enraged ringmaster storms towards the two Pipers, intent on murder. However, her enormous body slowly dissolves, becoming faint like smoke. She swipes at the closest Piper, presumably the real one, but her talons pass through the innocent woman. The ringmaster whirls on Percy, needing vengeance and searching for an easy target. Waving a hand, the ringmaster sends Percy flying through the aircannon and all. Then, she turns on Simon. She points a black talon in his general direction. It has been a long time since anyone has beaten my tests. You were lucky. I will not make it so easy next time. The ropes around Simons neck and wrists drop off at the same instant that the second Piper disappears. A strong gust sweeps through the enormous tent, blowing around anything which isnt tied down. The wind is so strong, it topples Pipers chair. The purple electrical flashes intensify, and the air within the circus tent grows thick with the smell of smoke and sulfur. A piercing wail goes up. The tents flaps move as if in a hurricane, whipping madly back and forth. Simon races to Pipers side, as she struggles to free her wrists from the chains. As he bends down beside her, the chains pop open. The shrill screaming of the angry ringmaster pounds against Simons eardrums. He presses his left ear against his left shoulder, to block out some of the sound, and helps Piper to her feet. Husband and wife hurry toward the front of the tenthoping they wont fall into nothingness. The whipping tent flaps reveals a thin strip of daylight. Simon puts on the speed, pulling Piper along behind him. Grabbing Piper around the waist, Simon launches himself from the tent. ============================================================================ Beep, beep, beep Simon slams a large hand down on the snooze button of his late grandfathers bronze alarm clock. He stretches and turns over on his back, eyes wandering toward the ceiling. Narrowing his eyes, Simon sits up on the bed. Piper calmly sits up beside him. For what amounts to a small eternity, Simon and Piper stare around the room. They turn to each other with wary expressions.
We are so taking a plane, Simon says. Yep, Piper agrees. What about your parents cake? We leave early enoughWe can order one. End Story One Monica and Joaquin: Into the Heart of the Cobra "Come on, slowpoke," Monica Berry teases, glancing down at her Fitbit watch. Jogging in place, Monica waits for her lagging husband to catch up. Joaquin draws up beside her and drops his hands to his knees, breathing heavily. "That bout with pneumonia is still kicking my butt, hon. I can''t run like I used to." "Aw, baby," Monica gushes playfully, wrapping both arms around Joaquin and drawing him close. "You want some cheese with that whine?" Joaquin smirks and rolls his eyes skyward. Pecking Monica twice on the lips, Joaquin issues a wry laugh. "You can laugh about it, Monica. You weren''t the one in a hospital coughing up a whole lung. I thought I was gonna die. So did my mom. She had all kinds of people visiting me with gifts and everything. You remember?" "Oh, I remember. That woman was constantly getting in my way and on my case. I kept my distance the whole time. Two years of marriage and she hates me just as much as she did when we were dating. I''m sorry you feel so bad, Quin. I was only kidding." "It''s not that bad, Monica. I mean...It''s bad. I feel like crap most of the time, but that''s part of getting better. Give it two or three more weeks. I''ll be back in peak shape. Bet." "Okay. But, in the meantime, I get to gloat," Monica says between a high-pitched laugh. "There was a time when I could never beat you running. Now, I''ve got it made. Hahaha." Resuming her stationary jogging, Monica grins slyly. Joaquin returns his wife''s gleeful grin, his eyes speaking volumes about the ways in which he plans to punish her for her insolence. A punishment she will quite enjoy. A loud rumble interrupts Joaquin''s scheming. Monica peers down at her watch again, a disappointed expression on her face. Joaquin gazes up at the sky, observing the total absence of rain clouds. "There''s no mention of a thunderstorm in today''s forecast. And I''m not getting any local weather alerts. Maybe it was a plane." The words are hardly out of Monica''s mouth before another loud rumble shatters the early evening air. The thunderclap is immediately followed by a brilliant flash of lightning. And another clap of thunder. Joaquin motions for Monica to draw close to him. Despite the absence of a single rain cloud, large droplets begin falling from the sky. Where the drops land, oval splotches dot the hardened dirt of the jogging trail. "Guess that wasn''t a plane. Come on, hon. We need to get out of the rain. I have zero plans of getting sick again. Not if I can help it," Joaquin urges his wife. "The park has a gazebo. We can wait out the storm there." Monica takes off the jacket of her jogging suit and offers half of it to Joaquin to use as a makeshift umbrella. Joaquin smiles gratefully and the two lovebirds hunker under Monica''s jacket. They make their way up the trail, headed for the park. Before long, the storm is fully upon them. ===================================== "Whoa," Joaquin exclaims over the roaring wind. "That is not Eddy Park!" Monica stares unbelieving at the enormous circus tent sitting in the wide clearing, where she and Joaquin both remember Eddy Park used to be. "When did they bulldoze the park?" Monica inquires, confusion in her tone. "Did you hear anything about it online or in the paper?" "No. Debbie, my coworker, meets her ex here every Friday. To drop off her kid. She never said anything about the city bulldozing Eddy Park. If anyone would know...It''d be Debbie. That woman knows everything. Or she thinks she does." "This doesn''t make any sense, Joaquin. Did we take a wrong turn or something?" "No. Look, that tree with the gnarled roots. That''s where the monkey bars used to be. And that stump...Is where Little Mario fell last summer. ''Member, he cut his knee up real bad? We''re in the right place. The park just ain''t here." "So now what?" Monica pouts. "We should have just gone home. I am soaked. You''re soaked. And there''s no gazebo. At least, if we were soaked at home...We could warm each other up." Joaquin gently pulls Monica close and glances at the tent standing several meters away. He nestles his face into Monica''s soaking hair and kisses her scalp.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. "We''ll be okay, MonMon," Joaquin says in a reassuring voice. "There''s that big tent over there. It will at least get us out of the rain." "What if lightning strikes it? There''s metal poles all over that thing." "It''s all we got, Monica." Monica is still unsure. She stares at the circus tent with narrowed eyes. Something about this entire chain of events seems weird. Even ominous. An abandoned circus tent in the middle of what should be Eddy Park. Sure, nothing strange about that at all. "I don''t know, Joaquin. I don''t think that''s--" A bright flash of lightning turns the surrounding area purple, a giant bolt rippling across the darkening sky. Thunder crashes a moment later. Joaquin grips his wife''s hand and pulls her toward the large tent. "No choice, hon. Let''s go. We''ve got to get out of this storm." "Joaquin, no," Monica says, pulling back in the other direction. "Let''s just go home." "Yes, Monica. Come on. This storm is not letting up. I don''t want you hurt, and I can''t risk getting sick again. We''ll be okay. It''s just a tent." Monica relents and allows herself to be led to the circus tent. Joaquin holds open one of the front flaps and Monica ducks unnecessarily to get inside. Habit. It''s what they always do in the movies. Monica peers around, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. Joaquin comes to stand beside her, placing his large hands on both of her shoulders. Turning Monica to face him, Joaquin kisses her tenderly. He holds her chin in one hand, as they separate, and stares down into her face. Joaquin can barely make out Monica''s face in the dim light, but it is a face he has thoroughly memorized--a face he could identify even in his sleep. "I told you we''d be okay. It even sounds like the storm is slacking off. Well, just a little. We''ll wait here for a little while, dry off, warm up a bit. Maybe even have some quiet make-out time." Monica clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes. To this, Joaquin laughs softly. He pecks his wife on the lips and wraps his arms around her middle. "That''s just wrong, Joaquin." "Who''s gonna see us? There''s no one here. Shouldn''t have left a big ole tent out in the middle of our park. You telling me you don''t think a few teenagers haven''t been up in here making friendly? Besides, it''s like you said...If we were at home--." Rather than finish his statement, Joaquin buries his mouth in the flesh of Monica''s neck--in the space above her collarbone. Monica closes her eyes and smiles. A smell like burning hair fills the tent, stinging Monica''s nose. The odor causes her stomach to lurch. The feeling is reminiscent of how Monica felt every time she visited her mother''s beauty shoppe as a small child. A similar smell would fill the shoppe every time her mother hotcombed a client''s hair. It made her sick then. It is making her sick now. "Joaquin, what is that? What is that smell?" Joaquin stops kissing Monica''s neck long enough to give her a confused stare. "What smell?" "You don''t smell that? It smells like...Burning hair...Or fur. Something like that. I always smelled it when I was a kid. In my mother''s hair shoppe. It...I hated that smell." Joaquin commences kissing Monica''s throat, trying to turn her mind onto other things. "It''s nothing, babe. I don''t smell anything. Maybe a tree has been struck or something. Could just be in the air. Relax. It''s fine." Monica slowly allows herself to relax. Hoping Joaquin is right, but fearing he is not. Abruptly, bright light fills the tent. Joaquin''s head jerks up as if a pistol has been fired. His first instinct is to draw Monica tighter to him. At the center of the gigantic tent stands an attractive woman dressed in an elegant purple suit. At a glance, the woman is quite beautiful. However, there is a ripple of danger or menace in her countenance. The woman''s piercing green eyes seem to look straight through Joaquin. Both of her slender hands are crossed at her middle; long, black nails gleaming in the light. In one hand, she holds a black cane with a golden tip. The cane''s tip rests on the floor between the woman''s partially spread legs. Joaquin''s eyes sweep over the woman''s entire form. She is indeed very attractive. "I''m sorry, Ma''am," Joaquin manages to say through his embarrassment. "We didn''t realize anyone was here. We just wanted to get out of the storm. We''ll leave." "Why?" the ringmaster says in a soft voice. "You''ve only just arrived. No harm has been done." A clown dressed entirely in purple, with splashes of red dispersed in various places, shuffles into the tent from the opposite side. Folded up in his arms are several articles of clothing. Circus clothes. "You are completely soaked," the ringmaster intones. "Put these on until your own clothes are dry. We can''t have you coughing up a lung, now can we?" Joaquin manages a small laugh. Monica remains silent, watching the strange woman in purple. "Funny you should say that," Joaquin replies. "I just got over pneumonia recently. I wouldn''t wish that on anyone." The ringmaster shifts her gaze from Joaquin to Monica, her eyes narrowing. Percy shuffles over to the married couple and offers them the pile of clothes. "Thank you," Monica says politely. Percy purposely makes eye contact with Monica and offers her a wide grin. He makes a point to touch her hand as he passes her the dress she is meant to wear. Monica blinks rapidly as several mental images, many sensual in nature, flash through her mind. She peers at Percy in awkward surprise. The clown simply nods and winks. Monica, unwilling to appear crazy, keeps silent about what she has seen. "You may change in the back," the ringmaster says. "There are two booths. One male, one female. Although, you can also choose to use the same booth. Simply walk behind the partition you see there." The ringmaster sweeps her cane in the direction of the far left corner of the tent. In the corner, there are two booths separated by a curtain. "Thank you, Ma''am," Joaquin says. A loud rumble of thunder follows Joaquin''s words. The ringmaster grins widely, white teeth gleaming in the light. "Don''t mention it." To be continued...... "Monica and Joaquin": Into the Heart of the Cobra- Chapter 2 Removing her soaked clothes, Monica tosses them onto the side of the dressing booth. She shivers as the evening air caresses her damp skin. Reaching for the dress Percy had given her, Monica draws it over her head. When she looks up, her wet clothes are no longer hanging on the wall of the booth. The clown must have taken the clothes to dry them. Good. The sooner they get out of this strange place the better. In the neighboring booth, Joaquin performs the same task. Monica smiles inwardly, at the sound of Joaquin''s sopping wet jeans slapping against the top of his booth. It almost feels like home. Joaquin is always throwing his discarded clothes over the shower curtain in their apartment. And every time, Monica tells him to take it down. The next day, he does it all over again. If she didn''t love Joaquin, she''d run him out of the house every time he did it. But she does love Joaquin. So she doesn''t. Monica steps out from her booth first. She nearly runs smack into Percy the Clown as she rounds the corner. An uncomfortable laugh escapes Monica''s lips and she attempts to squeeze by him, averting her gaze. "Excuse me. I''m sorry." "The master sent me to ask if you need anything else. Are you dry enough? Do you need more towels?" Monica emphatically shakes her head. She still refuses to meet Percy''s gaze. Once was enough, and what she had seen in his eyes was more than she cared to admit. "No. I think we''re fine." "That is good," Percy says in a soft voice. "The master would like you to join us for a meal. The storm is still very heavy. We were preparing to eat before you arrived. Please join us." Joaquin exits his booth and comes to stand behind Monica, placing his hands on her shoulders. Monica can''t help but notice how Percy''s eyes narrow, his purple lips twitching slightly. "Did you say food, brother? I am there. Lead the way, my man. I am hungry." Percy''s mood becomes one of disinterest and he offers Joaquin a small head nod. "This way," Percy says dryly. Percy leads the couple toward the opposite corner of the enormous tent. The ringmaster is seated at a circular table covered by a deep purple tablecloth. On the table are various covered dishes and a bottle of what appears to be red wine. The ringmaster motions for Monica and Joaquin to be seated. Joaquin pulls two of the chairs closer together and waits for Monica to sit down. He takes the other chair, adjusting himself to get closer to the table. The ringmaster and Percy study the couple with blank expressions. "Well...It smells really good," Monica says, uncomfortably shifting in her chair. "Funny, I don''t remember smelling any food when we first came in." The ringmaster intertwines her fingers and leans forward, elbows resting on the edge of the table. "Percy was out back preparing the food when you arrived." "Oh," Monica replies. Percy chooses the seat directly opposite Monica and stares across the table at her. Monica reaches and grasps Joaquin''s left hand. Joaquin has no idea what is going on. His mind is now on food. "So what we got going on here?" Joaquin exclaims, eyeing the covered dishes with growing hunger. Nodding her head in Percy''s direction, the ringmaster gives him a silent order. Percy rises from his seat at the table and places a empty platter in front of each partaker. When he gets to Monica, he sets the plate down very carefully and purposely brushes her left arm with his right elbow. Monica absently glances up, and their eyes meet. Percy takes this opportunity to list every item available on the menu, his expression and his voice conveying a much deeper message.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. "For appetizers, we have tea eggs and antipasto. We also have a salad, should the lady wish it. For the main course...Turkey roasted in white wine with potatoes. Dessert is a delicious rice pudding. Topped off with red wine." Percy finishes with his list of mealtime edibles and offers Monica a sly wink. Monica struggles against the voice in the back of her mind. The voice screaming for her to leave this tent with its odd occupants. But what has the strange clown really done other than be kind to her? And being kind isn''t a crime. Not yet, anyway. "Sounds delicious," Monica says. The clown''s grin grows wider and he nods affirmatively. "It is very delicious. I prepared the rice pudding from a very old recipe. Very special. I had no idea I would be sharing my masterpiece with a very special lady...," at this, Percy looks over at Joaquin. "And her husband." Joaquin seems not to notice the slight. He is too concerned with the food sitting covered on the table. Percy''s lip quivers once again and he stands to his full height. The unhappy clown lifts the lid on a platter at the center of the table. Four upside down glasses are situated neatly on the platter. Percy takes two of the glasses and places one in front of Monica and Joaquin, respectively. Next, he carefully pours each of them a full glass of red wine. Joaquin shrugs and raises his glass in a humorous toast. "Here I am drinking red wine and it ain''t even New Years...Or my birthday." Monica lets a tiny laugh slip, causing Percy''s eyes to drift once again in her direction. Monica does not notice. She is too busy straightening out the material of her borrowed dress. Joaquin takes a sip of his wine and smacks his lips. "Man, this stuff is good. What year is it?" The ringmaster chuckles and stares across the table at Joaquin, a faint smile on her purple painted lips. She reclines her chin into the palm of one hand, dropping her voice to a sultry whisper. "A very good year. That bottle is very old. I figured you could both use some good luck after being caught in that terrible storm. The wine should help to strengthen you and keep you warm." "Hmm," Joaquin says, taking another sip of his wine. By now, Percy has begun dispersing the food. Monica studies the piece of turkey on her plate like it is a science project. She pokes the meat with her fork before taking a bite of her antipasto instead. Percy watches Monica lift the food to her mouth, his tongue briefly licking the bottom of his upper lip. As Monica picks at her food, Joaquin focuses more on his glass of wine. Before long, his glass is nearly empty. The ringmaster''s smile grows wider. "More wine?" She says in a knowing voice. "Oh...Uh...Yeah. That stuff is good." Percy pours Joaquin another glass of wine and then sits down in his seat across from Monica. "Try the pudding," Percy insists. "I want to know how you like it." "Okay. Sure," Monica says uncomfortably. The young woman spoons a small portion of rice pudding into her mouth. Percy studies Monica as she carefully chews. When she swallows, he follows the path of her food with his keen eyes. Satisfied, Percy grins happily. "Delicious?" "Yes, very," Monica says, a spark of excitement creeping into her voice. No longer timid, Monica lifts another spoonful of rice pudding to her lips. Percy''s eyes narrow to small slits and his grin takes on a less agreeable nature. To Monica''s right, Joaquin shakes his head as if trying to clear away cobwebs. "Whoa. What year did you say that wine was from, Ma''am? I feel kind of weird. Like, my head is spinning." "I didn''t," the ringmaster states cryptically. "Huh?" Joaquin stammers, his vision blurring. "Whoa. What the hell?" Monica''s delight, over her rice pudding, has grown manic. She shovels spoonfuls of rice pudding into her mouth--one after the other. Percy calmly reaches across the table and slides the dish containing the rest of the rice pudding closer to Monica. Monica grabs up the entire dish of rice pudding and begins shoveling it into her mouth with her right hand. Before long, the dish is completely empty. Monica uses her index finger to get out every crumb and morsel. She looks around as if expecting to find more. Joaquin loses consciousness and falls out of his chair, lying on the floor in a collapsed heap. Monica peers down at her incapacitated husband and angles her head in detached disbelief. "Joaquin? What''s wrong?" Percy climbs from his chair and comes to stand behind Monica. Just as she passes out. Grabbing Monica up from her chair, Percy holds her snugly to his chest and grins. He turns to face his master. She is grinning as well. "Monica and Joaquin": Into the Heart of the Cobra- Chapter 3 "Mmmm," Monica says, as warm lips settle into the space between her neck and shoulder. Stretching an arm above her head, Monica wraps the other arm around her lover''s shoulders. Percy withdraws his lips from Monica''s neck and stares down at her with a contemplative expression. The spell has done its work. At last, he will have his Alice again. This body is much younger and more vibrant. The transfer should be smooth and painless. The amount of energy emanating off of Monica is intoxicating. The sparkling ribbons of current, swirling around Monica''s body and head, are bright and hypnotic. The interweaving patterns of red, violet, green, and indigo perform a dizzying dance, causing Percy great distress. There is only one problem with encountering a being who possesses such immense energy. For now, he will not think on that. Grappling with his intense hunger, Percy nearly covers Monica''s entire mouth with his own, in an attempt to siphon as much energy as possible in one go. Monica returns his kiss, but briefly pulls away to utter a single word. "Joaquin." Percy''s eyes narrow to thin slits and he places both hands behind Monica''s head, anchoring her to him. He kisses her more forcefully, thin ribbons of energy arcing around all points of contact. Percy''s intent is to take more and more of Monica''s precious energy. To drain her; to make her too weak to fight back. Yet strong enough to withstand the transfer. He will not lose another opportunity. He will have his Alice. Monica''s face crinkles as Percy applies even more pressure to their kiss. For an unexplainable reason, Monica finds that her eyelids seem especially heavy. She struggles to open her eyes, but they only flutter uselessly. She rolls her eyes in their sockets, hoping to loosen them up. More and more, something about Joaquin''s kisses seem odd. She and Joaquin have been together for nearly half of their entire lives. By now, she knows every curve of his body. As Monica rubs Joaquin''s back, through his shirt, something just doesn''t feel right. She runs her hand up to the nape of Joaquin''s neck. Again, something is very wrong. His hair. Something is wrong with his hair. Joaquin''s hair is soft, with tiny swirls and patterns traversing his scalp. Joaquin''s hair is also cut much shorter. The head she now rubs is covered in long coarse hairs. Tuffs of long, uneven, coarse hairs. And his nose. Joaquin''s nose is long and angular, with a high bridge. The nose pressed against the side of hers is wide and broad, with very little definition. The mouth threatening to take her breath away is not soft and warm. The lips are dry, and the breath is hot. Almost stifling hot. This is not her husband. This is not her lover of many years. This is not Joaquin. Percy! Monica''s eyes shoot open and she immediately pushes at Percy''s shoulders. The clown''s eyes bulge as he realizes the spell is no more. He grabs desperately at Monica, but she rolls away from him, falling from the elaborate bed. Climbing to her feet, Monica glances around. The place she finds herself is not familiar. The outlandish furnishings suggest they are still within the circus tent. However, this is not a part of the tent which Monica remembers seeing. It resembles a makeshift bedroom, complete with a grand bed covered all the way around with see-thru purple curtains. Percy whips open the curtains surrounding the bed and steps down onto the floor. His eyes are narrowed menacingly and he stalks toward Monica. An eerie purple light, with tiny swirls of green, dances in Percy''s eyes. Monica swallows hard as she backs away from the furious clown.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. "What the hell do you think you''re doing? Where''s my husband? Where is Joaquin?" Percy''s mouth twists into an unfriendly smirk. He stops walking forward and glowers at Monica from across the short distance. The voice which reaches Monica''s ears is dry and raspy, like a voice from the grave. "He is with the master. She is readying him for the final test. When you have both completed the test...And failed...I can take you whenever I wish. You will not be able to resist me. That is how it has always been done. It was during my own test that I lost my Alice. The master has said, if I find another who is worthy...I may have her back. I have judged you worthy. You will be my new Alice." "No...I won''t!" Monica yells, backing swiftly away from Percy. Percy sneers and shuffles toward her, shaking his head from side to side. "You will not have a choice. That is the way it has always been done. Those who fail the test must remain here. Either as the master''s servant, or her lover. She did not find me worthy as a lover...So I am to be her servant--for all of eternity. There is no choice in the matter. Once you are here...You are here. Only the test can save you." Monica''s stomach lurches for the second time that evening. The memory of this vile creature''s tongue on her lips and in her mouth sickens her. How could she have ever thought he was Joaquin? And where is Joaquin? What did this bozo mean when he said his master was ''readying'' Joaquin? Is the circus master performing the same ritual her pet had just attempted? Even now, is Joaquin in the arms of that purple enchantress? Will he know it is not her? Will he break free of the spell, as she has, and come to her? Monica continues to back away from Percy, and he continues to get even closer. Monica shakes her head emphatically and puts out a hand in warning. "Don''t come any closer. Please. Just let me and my husband leave. We won''t tell anyone about...Whatever this is. I promise. I don''t care if you''re crazy. I just...I want to leave. I want to leave with my husband. Let me find my husband...And we''ll leave." Backing out of a large flap, Monica instinctually glances over one shoulder, expecting to find herself outside. Instead, she is back in the main portion of the circus tent. The circular table, in the far corner, is still heaped with food--most of it untouched. Joaquin is nowhere to be seen. Monica jumps as Percy''s arms encircle her middle. She slaps him hard across the left side of his face. Percy growls deep in his throat and tries to go in for another hungry kiss. Monica slams a fist into the center of his face. Her fist partially careens off of his fake nose. With a animalistic roar, Percy separates from Monica and smacks her with the back of one hand. Monica''s mouth gapes with surprise, but she doesn''t dare let Percy regain the upper hand. She kicks him hard in the right knee and his leg buckles. He reaches for her and she smacks his hand away, striking out with her opposite fist. Her balled fist connects with Percy''s left temple and he roars again. In anger more than pain. Monica kicks the same knee again, and attempts a third kick, hoping to knock Percy on his butt. Percy grabs Monica''s leg, just under her knee, and she panics. She knocks the hat off of Percy''s head and tugs at his odd tuffs of hair. If he drops her, he goes down with her. Or, he will have to relinquish his hold on her leg. Percy chooses a less polite approach. He buries his face in Monica''s chest. As he expected, Monica removes one hand from his hair, to push at his face. Percy nestles in more snugly, a smile building on his hellish visage. Monica realizes her dilemma and goes back to pulling Percy''s hair with both hands. The clown''s staccato laughter filters up to her ears and Monica shivers. She pounds on the arm holding her bent knee with a closed fist. To her surprise, Percy releases her leg. He also removes his head from its position against her chest. With a snide grin, Percy shoves Monica backward. Monica stumbles and reaches back to try and catch herself. As she pivots, her eyes bulge in their sockets. She falls through empty space. The black hole, where there was once packed earth, swallows her whole. To be continued..... "Monica and Joaquin": Into the Heart of the Cobra: Chapter 4 "Umph!" Monica lands on her back. Whatever cushioned her long fall into nothingness is not quite soft, but neither is it firm. Monica tries to stand, using one hand as a brace. She cringes as her fingers make contact with the surface beneath her. Running her hand over the questionable object, Monica grows more certain of her assessment. Scales. Very large scales. "Oh no," Monica whispers. "Oh, please no." Just as the final word leaves Monica''s lips, the creature beneath her writhes violently. Monica strains to follow the long body of the enormous creature, as it rises higher and higher into the air. Two yellow eyes, with thin purple pupils, stare down at her from several meters above. Monica stands perfectly still, wishing the giant serpent away. Monica''s wishing has no effect. The serpent shakes its head, a wide hood opening to reveal elaborate purple symbols and patterns. The ginormous cobra hisses and lurches forward threateningly. Monica shrinks away, shielding her face with her arms--as if that would do any good. Her heart pounds in her chest as she waits for the killing strike. It never comes. The serpent seems to sniff Monica, rhythmically moving its head from one side of her face to the other. Monica remains still, not wanting to alarm the giant creature. When the snake finishes inspecting Monica, it hisses loudly a second time. Dropping from its previous extended height, the serpent watches Monica with slitted eyes, and coils up the upper portion of its body. One slanted eye locks on Monica and stays there. Glancing upward, Monica is able to make out a very tiny circle of light. Judging from the size of the miniscule speck, she has fallen quite a distance. Carefully dropping down into a sitting position, Monica observes the gargantuan cobra on which she rests. Every other scale on the serpent''s skin is a brilliant purple. Each purple scale gives off a faint light, by which Monica is able to partially see. Dual puffs of condensation erupt from the snake''s nostrils every time it exhales, its massive form rising and falling with each breath. For the first time, Monica realizes how cold it is within the pit. The skin of her bare arms is covered with gooseflesh, and an involuntary shiver courses her spine. One thing is for sure. She can''t possibly be in Hell. Can she? "Monica?" Joaquin''s voice calls from the darkness. Monica jumps to her feet, momentarily forgetting where she is and what she is standing on. The Cobra seems undisturbed. It doesn''t even blink. Monica spins the upper part of her body in order to face where she heard Joaquin''s voice. "Joaquin? Joaquin, where are you?" "The wall. They have me chained up against the wall. I''m over here." Monica treads carefully on her serpentine carpet, mindful that the creature is very alive-- and very aware of her presence. She follows the sound of Joaquin''s voice, reaching out with a solitary hand. "I''m here, Monny. I''m right here. I can hear you getting closer. I''m right here." Monica reached the place where Joaquin is chained to the wall. Even in the dim light, she can see that something is wrong. A dark stain covers the entire front of Joaquin''s clothes, and a metallic smell hangs in the air. The smell grows stronger the closer Monica draws to her husband. "Joaquin, are you okay? What''s going on? What''s that all over your clothes? Did she hurt you? What did that woman do to you?" Monica steps in front of Joaquin and raises his head, which is reclining forward. She lightly brushes a hand down the front of his shirt, feeling his chest. The dark stain is tacky and not quite dry. "Joaquin?" Joaquin coughs once, very loudly. That is when Monica notices the darks stains on his mouth and running down his chin.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "Oh no. Joaquin!" Bright purple light explodes all around them, causing the giant cobra to hiss and uncoil in fury. The tip of the large serpent''s tail strikes Monica''s back and she falls against Joaquin. She wraps her arms around his middle to steady herself, staring up into pained eyes. "Oh no," Monica moans. "Oh no. No. No." Dark red blood drips from Joaquin''s trembling lips. Dried blood cakes his mouth, chin, and neck. Monica strokes the right side of Joaquin''s face and kisses him passionately, not caring about the blood caked to his usually supple lips. "Joaquin, what did she do to you? What have they done? What happened?" Joaquin smiles weakly and meets Monica''s eye. He shrugs casually. "I guess...I shouldn''t have mentioned being sick with pneumonia. She...She actually made me cough up a lung. She took it. She took it with her." Monica''s eyes grow wide and her face tenses with rage. Whirling away from Joaquin, Monica comes face to face with the cobra. The serpent sways back and forth, its thin pupils dilating and constricting in a rhythmic pattern. In the full light, the snake is even more formidable. The cobra''s coiled body is impressively massive, and speaks of the raw power it possesses to squeeze the very life from any enemy. Should it choose to do so. Loud clapping draws Monica''s attention away from the giant snake. The ringmaster levitates slowly downward, her black and gold cane held in front of her. The lapels of her purple suit billow out from her body, making her almost seem regal. Almost. The raucous clapping is coming from above. Percy. Who else could it be? Monica''s face grows warm as she considers what that horrible clown almost did to her. She wants nothing more than to pound Percy''s freakish face into the solid ground. For what she has done to Joaquin, this woman in purple deserves much worse. Landing softly on the serpent''s tightly wound black and purple body, the ringmaster approaches Monica at a slow gait. She appraises her competition with an air of confidence. "Did you enjoy your time with my servant, Monica? Was it everything you ever wanted and more? Or no...Of course not. We are talking about Percy. He may be a wonderful servant...But, he makes for a lousy lover. I''m not surprised you could see right through him. Even his own lover abandoned him. She couldn''t handle the stakes of the test. He hasn''t been the same since. Always pining for his Alice. What good is he to me?" The ringmaster slowly circles Monica, scrutinizing every inch of her. She sneaks a brief look over at Joaquin and smiles. "Now...This one...He is quite a catch. I would trade a hundred Percy''s to have just one of him," the ringmaster says, studying Monica''s reaction. "But I don''t have to trade. All it will take...Is a simple little test...And he can be mine." "You sick witch!" Monica roars, clenching her jaw. "Untie my husband and let us go. What good is he to either of us dead?" "To you...Not very much," the ringmaster says in a raspy voice. "To me...A lot. I like them better dead. I can mold them however I wish." The ringmaster steps to the right side of Joaquin and wetly licks his face. Joaquin recoils, his eyes fluttering briefly shut. A rattling cough racks his blood-stained form. The ringmaster chuckles and licks Joaquin''s face again. "Stop doing that!" Monica screams. "He doesn''t belong to you." "Not yet, he doesn''t," the ringmaster hollers back. "But he will! For now, you must be tested." The ringmaster steps away from Joaquin and taps her cane on the giant cobra''s powerfully coiled body. The serpent''s body begins to ripple, starting at the point where the cane tip made contact. At the hole''s rim, high above them, Percy claps louder and issues a maniacal laugh. The ringmaster smirks cruelly. "The test is quite simple," the ringmaster says. She opens her hand and a clear ball appears in the air, floating above her outstretched palm. Inside the see thru ball is Joaquin''s ejected lung. "You will retrieve your lover''s precious lung...From inside my dear beloved Petunia," the ringmaster exclaims in a singsong voice. Crouching low, the Ringmaster strokes the giant cobra''s scales. The serpent hisses loudly and splays out the ornate hood on its head. Her point made, the enchantress stands to her full height again. "You must stab and cut out her heart. Sure, I may lose my precious pet. But that is simply part of the game. All you will be given to perform this task is a dagger. You must not use any other weapon or your lover''s life is forfeit. Win...You both go home. Lose...And Joaquin stays with me forever. I cannot decide whether I want him for a lover or a pet. I suppose there will be time enough later for that. Do you understand the rules of the game? Do you agree to abide by them? Forfeit now, and at least you can leave with your life. Continue, and you may die. The choice...Is yours." Monica looks from Joaquin to the ringmaster, resolve coursing through her veins. She straightens her back and meets the ringmaster''s gaze. "I forfeit nothing. I love my husband. I will fight...And die for him. If need be." The ringmaster''s evil grin grows wider, and Percy''s insane laughter increases in pitch. The ringmaster taps her cane on the serpent''s back four times. The serpent opens its giant mouth. The clear ball containing Joaquin''s lung floats up into the snake''s gaping maul. "Then, so be it," the ringmaster rasps in a deep voice. To be continued......