“Shouldn’t Scars and Recoil know what we’re doing out here, Amy?” Professor Viali asks. The muddy ground and prickly branches of the woods do her no favors in keeping up with Amy, who is clearly far more used to brisk marches across uneven terrain such as this.
“Scars has enough on her plate as it is. And Recoil could care less, I’m sure. Best not to worry about them right now, Alexandra.” Amy vaults over a fallen tree trunk, distancing herself from her colleague and the conversation.
The professor snorts in response. “You know, you don’t seem to understand your partners very well, despite being the leader of this little group of ours. You’d be surprised by the things they’re capable of, beyond their respective insanity and expert marksmanship. Perhaps you should start paying them some more respect.”
“Certainly. Once they’ve earned it,” Amy retorts, taking a pause and pulling up her hood over her short red hair before continuing forward.
The professor scoffs as she places a wide-rimmed expeditionist hat atop her head. “We’re supposed to be your blood sisters. Sisters look out for one another, Amy.”
“Which is exactly why we’re here now.”
Amy offers Alexandra a stern look, then softens her face and curls her lips into a smile. Stepping to the edge of the tree line and pushing through one last bit of brush, she reveals the abrasive sight of a glaring carnival fairground. Without any more flora impeding the path, the full spectacle of the disheveled scene is in full view. At a glance, it’s modest, as theme parks go; nothing close to resembling a Barnum and Bailey’s event, and probably not all above board, but the grounds still seem like they could hold a sizeable crowd, even this late into the night. Even from afar, all of the staples seem to be on display, from the rickety, mini roller coaster to a handful of dunk tanks filled with questionable liquids. It’s an event for true degenerates.
At least, it would be, were it not that everyone trying to attend is being held outside the main gate. Above whatever music and ambient noise might be coming from the carnival itself, the prevalent roar of a hundred or so angry customers fills the night air.
As Amy and Alexandra march down the slope toward the carnival entrance, doing their best to keep a low profile for the moment, the professor’s face slips into a grimace. “Oh, joy. You brought me to the freak show.”
“I recommend you not say that out loud once we enter,” Amy replies, as they breach the crowd and make their way toward the towering attendee at the gate. At this point, both women also put on respective pairs of sunglasses, even though they’re hardly needed, given the sun is about to go down. But discretion is key to the operation at hand.
A haughty laugh escapes the professor. “Oh, come on. Just look at it. It’s ridiculous, even as most carnivals go.”
“I told you not to say it aloud. I didn’t say you were wrong.”
“And how do you intend for us to even get in?”
Amy pulls out a hundred-dollar bill from her pocket. “How else?” With a smirk, she leads Alexandra in one final push to escape the crowd.
The middle-aged fellow guarding the gate stands at just under eight feet tall—no doubt the carnival’s freakish tall man—and boasts some decent bulk to also justify his post as a bouncer. He glances down to the two women as they now make a not-so subtle approach.
“Sorry, loves,” the man greets them. “Not sure if you realized, but no one’s getting in tonight. Dapper Drake and His Devils Aplenty are on a…hiatus.” His eyes dart back and forth between the two women, ensuring he doesn’t miss a beat on them.
“We noticed,” Amy monotones. “You wouldn’t happen to be Dapper Drake, would you?”
The man shakes his head. “No, ma’am. Constable Cornelius, at your service,” he replies, flashing a fake sheriff’s badge pinned on his red and white striped button-down. “I keep everyone in line around here. Which, as you can see, is proving to be quite the task this evening.”
Alexandra gives a generous nod. “Indeed.”
“Well, then, it’s a good thing we’re here. We might be able to help. See, we’re private investigators, and our client is very interested in what’s going on here tonight.” She lies with ease. Although, then again, it’s not a total lie—more like a half-truth. After all, she does have a vested interest in tonight’s events.
“Shit. Ain’t no one supposed to know about all this,” the constable grumbles.
“Oh, we don’t know a thing, except what we’ve heard on social media that you guys aren’t letting people in for some reason.”
“We’re on social media? Huh.”
“Per our job description, we’ve been asked to…investigate and help however we can. We’re very discreet. And, if you can assist us in any way…” Amy now flashes the cash in a not-so discreet manner for the constable to see. “You’ll be generously compensated.”
Cornelius glues his eyes to the money. “Shit,” he fails to mutter under his breath. He then glances around, hoping to steal a moment of anonymity from the crowd, something he is rarely afforded. “Well…I appreciate the generous donation, ma’am.” In one swift motion, he snatches and pockets the money, his deft sleight of hand catching both Amy and Alexandra off guard. He then points into the vast carnival behind him. “All I can say is you might wanna take a look around the magic house with all the mirrors. But don’t muck about too long, all right?”
The constable ushers the women through the gate with haste, as he is also met with an immediate uproar of disapproval from several crowd members.
Amy waves behind her as she leads Vial in, ensuring they aren’t wrapped up in whatever shit storm is about to hit Cornelius. “Thank you, Constable. Have a pleasant evening.”
Stepping through the grounds, Amy is reminded of how she always hated the carnival when she was a little girl. All the abhorrent colors and the incessant music drove her nuts, and the clowns always reminded her of the Terrifier—that movie scarred her for life. People would tell her she just didn’t know how to have fun. “Lighten up, Amy,” her parents would tell her. “It’ll be fun.” No, it certainly was not fun.
Amy’s first time at one of these places ended up being her last. She was seven years old. A clown blasted confetti in her face while cackling and skipping around to his heart’s content. In response, she punched him square in the gonads. Security had to drag little Amy out by her still-clenched fists, her parents shouting in protest all the while. She used to have nightmares about that day, but looking back on it now, she finds herself grinning.
“I believe this is the part where you tell me a bit more about what we’re actually doing here, Amy,” Vial says, making it sound almost like an order, even though she knows she’s outranked. If anything, she’s just hoping to make conversation to help distract her from the scent of the popcorn and funnel cakes; it all threatens to make her vomit.
“You’ll see soon enough, Vial,” Amy tells her.
The professor sighs in response. “I never agreed to use that nickname.”
“You didn’t have to. My operation. My rules. Don’t forget it.” Amy doesn’t need to be a genius like her colleague to know the good professor is rolling her eyes at her behind her back.
“How did you even find this place? Doesn’t seem like your scene.”
“It’s not, but I like to keep tabs on people and places of interest. The internet is a useful tool for things like that.”
Vial nods to herself. “And what interest could you possibly have in a traveling carnival?”
“I just need you to trust me, okay? It’ll all make sense once we get where we need to go.”
“I’m getting a little tired of working without seeing the whole picture, Amy. You can’t keep me or the others in the dark forever. But fine. Lead on.”
As the two maintain their brisk pace through the grounds, Amy forces her eyes forward. Even as desolate and empty as it is, all the attractions still seem determined to distract her. The cute games where vendors would try forcing her to play for a prize lie unattended, the rundown rides that threaten to breakdown at any given moment are all quiet, and the outlandish characters starved and desperate for attention are absent from sight. It’s almost sad.
Professor Viali, on the other hand, is grateful for the general lack of commotion, though there is still obnoxious music blaring in the background to contend with. She finds herself struggling to maintain a semblance of composure in light of all the unseemly attractions. Chief among these glaring eye sores is the giant main stage at the end of the main row of the carnival, with its flashing lights blasting into the clear night sky like beacons calling out to any visitors from the stars. A sign on the side of the road notes this evening’s performance, featuring the “Flaming feats of fancy from Selina the Salamander!”
“Perhaps we move a bit faster, hmm?” Alexandra requests, stealing her focus away from the stage.
Amy finds herself chuckling at Vial’s disposition. “You’re really out of your element here.”
With a nod, Alexandra matches Amy’s gait and moves right beside her. “Everything about this is so…pointless. What purpose does any of this serve?”
“It’s entertainment, Vial. People need that. Lighten up. Smile. It might do you some good.”
“I’ll be grinning from ear to ear as soon as we leave.”
In turn, Amy finds herself grinning just as she and the professor wind a corner and find a wide, tattered, makeshift mansion tucked away at one end of the grounds. The sign outside says, “The Fractal Funhouse.” Just before the steps leading into the structure, several disfigured mirrors stand tall for passersby to experiment with making themselves look odd and oblong. No doubt, more mirrors await the two women inside.
“You’re sure about this?” Alexandra asks.
Amy doesn’t answer as she marches forward into the building.
Darkness coats the walls, which would otherwise be morphing Amy and Alexandra as they step through the structure. Seems that whoever runs the place forgot to pay the electric bill. Nevertheless, a few shadowed hallways hold no sway over Amy. Her Marine training kicks in, telling her to keep going, despite the burning in her knees from what has already been a very long day.
It doesn’t matter. All that matters now is getting to the heart of this silly place, a task that quickly proves more difficult than it should be. While Amy’s no stranger to working in the dark, the lack of lighting, coupled with the various winding paths of this mansion, keeps turning her around. And at this point, she can’t even tell if Alexandra is still following. She’s moving as fast as she can, and she suspects Vial isn’t quite as eager to keep up.
“Amy,” the professor calls out, as if on cue. “Do you even know where you’re going?”
“Nope.” Even with the professor several feet back, Amy can still hear her mutter something under her breath; no doubt she’s swearing at this whole bothersome predicament. Whatever it is isn’t important, though. “Where are you, Anna?” Amy now whispers to herself.
“A violent mind. Parents taken in the night. Sister, come save me.”
The voice comes from nowhere and all around the two women, and they both stop in place.
“Anna?” Amy calls out.
“Was that…a haiku?” Alexandra asks.
The voice repeats the same three lines again, this time in more of a musical hum. The chant then becomes a tune, echoing like a haunting lullaby through the halls. Amy says nothing else and continues forward.
As the professor is now managing to follow closer behind, she can feel the sheer determination radiating from Amy; it bears the intensity of a flaming furnace. This is personal for her self-proclaimed leader, she reckons. Part of her wonders if she should maybe sit this one out. But then, her curiosity will always get the better of her, and so she presses on.
The path continues twisting and winding every which way. The mansion proves to be much like a Tardis, feeling much larger on the inside than it appears on the outside. Though a few scant lights begin to guide the way, Amy is almost inclined to ignore them, trudging forward fueled by pure grit and vigor alone. That, and a modicum of hope, though she won’t admit that to anyone but herself. Hope isn’t a commodity she can afford much of these days.
The hall eventually gives way to a large set of double doors, already opened and leading into a small performance arena, bathed in neon from the floral lights wrapping around the walls. The space is vacant, save for the young woman sitting at its center with her back turned to Amy and Alexandra. Adorned in what looks like a skin-tight, hooded spandex suit draped in reflective shards of glass, the girl seems blissfully oblivious to her surroundings, and the song in her throat continues to glide through the air.
For a split second, Amy catches a glimpse of herself in those shards; there is an obvious apprehension in her eyes. “Anna,” she mutters to herself, before pacing a circle around the room, trying to find the performer’s face.
The glass-covered woman pays Amy no mind, her attention focused square on the corpse resting in front of her. It’s at this moment the stench of blood hits Amy’s nose, and she acknowledges just how fitting a reunion this is turning out to be.
“Amy,” Professor Viali whispers from across the room. “Who is this?”
“My sister,” Amy answers, her words echoing back. Even without looking at Vial, she can feel the daggers glaring in her direction.
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Alexandra comments, having now made her way to the other end of the room alongside Amy.
Amy turns to face her colleague, a look of melancholy now draped over her face. “Adopted sister, but yes. I lost her many years ago.” She then snickers. “Well, maybe ‘lost’ is the wrong word. She left just after I turned 20—after I joined up with the Marines, and after we lost our parents. The last time I saw her, she was sprinting down the street and off into the night, no streetlights to guide her way…and I just let her go.”
“And she ended up here.”
“Yep. She always talked about running away to join the circus. Said she wanted the adventure. Guess she found what she was looking for.”
Indeed, Amy used to hate the circus. Her younger sister Anna, on the other hand, never had any issues with it. Going to the circus was almost like a form of therapy for her. It was the one thing, above all others, that Amy knew made Anna happy. She would go to shows as often as her adopted parents would allow—or as often as she could sneak out—regardless of the company, crew, or location. She always told her older sister, “The freakier the better!”
Amy says nothing else as she now takes several cautious steps forward. She doesn’t fear what her sister might do to her; rather, she fears what her sister might do to herself. An unhinged mind is a prickly thing—spending as much time as she has with Scars has taught her that much. But the madness that drives her sister Anna was born so long ago. It was before either of them understood the purpose of insurance, the triviality of hooking up with boys, or that their parents didn’t actually have all the answers. It latched onto her while she still maintained her innocent youth. Hell, maybe she was born with it.
Amy doesn’t care. She just wants her sister back. “Anna. It’s me,” she calls out.
Only now does the young woman sitting on the floor lift her head to acknowledge the new arrivals in her chamber, her hands still glued to the body in front of her. The sound of something sharp exiting flesh echoes through the room, and the woman brandishes what looks like a piece of glass from a mirror in Amy’s direction.
“Are you really there? Or am I dreaming again? Reality lies.”
Amy puts her open hands in front of herself, demonstrating she’s not a threat. “Anna, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s Amy.” She pulls down her hood and undoes the braid in her hair, hoping to make herself more recognizable. It seems to work, as there comes a look of recognition from Anna. Amy was expecting to see her sister’s brown eyes, but the ones staring back at her now are blood red; maybe color contacts are part of Anna’s act. Either way, there’s an acknowledgement, along with tinge of fear.
“Anna…what happened?”
“You shouldn’t be here. No one is supposed to know…I made a mistake.”
Anna slithers back across the floor away from the corpse and her sister, several mirror shards falling from her costume as she does. Now at a safe distance away, she curls up into a ball and rocks herself back and forth.
“‘Lackluster,’ he said. Said I wasn’t good enough.” She clenches her fists and turns to her sister with tearful eyes. “It was one bad show.”
“He…” Amy says, looking at the body. Even dead, she can read him; this is a man who got whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it. Dressed in fine, white garments now stained with crimson, his face is rigid, clean-shaven, and seems like it would otherwise be well accustomed to holding a toothy smile at all times. “Dapper Drake?” She then spots a white top hat and a silver cane not far from where the corpse lies. Because of course he had those too.
Anna nods in response, and Amy lowers herself to the floor and scoots over closer to her sister, reaching for her hand. “It’s okay, sis.”
Anna’s expression turns to confusion, as she now pulls down her own hood, revealing a shock of long blue hair underneath. More glass shards fall from the suit she wears, though she doesn’t seem to mind.
“I mean, let’s face it,” Amy continues. “The guy probably deserved it. Who the fuck goes around calling himself Dapper Drake?” The two sisters find comfort in a light fit of laughter together. “Don’t worry. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
Anna finally offers her hand to Amy, and they both smile. It’s a small embrace, but it means everything to the elder of the two.
“Is it?” Alexandra blurts in response.
“Yes, Vial. It is.” Amy shakes her head. “You’ll have to excuse my friend. She can be a bit abrasive. But I promise, she’ll grow on you. All of my new friends will.”
Anna once again gives her sister a quizzical stare.
“There’s a lot to explain,” Amy adds, “if you’ll give me the time. But that can wait. I want to hear about you first. How’ve you been, current troubles aside?”
“Why the haikus?” Vial cuts in, though not entirely out of place. “Sorry, I’m equally curious as to this whole charade you have going on here, Anna.”
“It goes with my act,” Anna answers with a light giggle. “Helps maintain the illusion.” As she continues, she waves an arm through the air and contorts her fingers. “People enjoy it.”
Amy smiles and gives her sister an affirming nod. “Does your act have a name?”
Anna points to a sign in the corner of the room that reads, “The Mirror.”
“Heh. Very clever. And what exactly is this act, then?” Amy asks. “You said something about illusions…”
A cute little grin sneaks up to the edge of Anna’s lips.
“Illusions galore.” From out of nothing, Anna flourishes her hand above Amy’s head and douses her in a puff of pink smoke. “I get tricksy with your mind, leaving you in awe.”
Amy laughs in turn, waving away the specs of dust attempting to make their way into her nostrils. “It sounds beautiful. Knowing you, sis, I’m sure you knock em dead every night.” She looks back to the body. “I would have loved to watch you perform. But I guess the timing isn’t so great right now, huh?”
Anna shakes her head.
“What really happened here, Anna? Why’d you kill him? I have to know if you want me to take you away from here.” Amy now sits side by side with Anna, wanting to wrap an arm around her but cautioning herself against it, in light of all the glass shards covering the young woman. “You do want to leave, right? I can’t imagine you’d want to stay after…whatever this was.”
Anna curls herself up again, though she doesn’t shy away from her sister.
“He lied to me, sis,” Anna starts, her voice cracking. “Told me I was beautiful. And then he hurt me.”
She carefully pulls off one of the sleeves to her outfit, more mirror fragments shattering on the floor as she does. Amy forces herself to look at the scrapes and bruises that adorn her sister’s arm. Anna doesn’t stop, though, as she rises to her feet and allows her entire costume to fall, revealing herself in full. Wearing nothing but her meager, overly revealing undergarments, Anna’s entire body is covered in small scars and patches of darkened skin, all of which are accented against her otherwise ghost-white tone.
Still, Amy doesn’t look away. “And you hurt him back…” she says. “It’s okay.”
Anna nods. “Didn’t mean to kill. It all happened way too fast. Am I in trouble?”
Amy shakes her head as she stands back up and once again takes her sister’s hand. “Absolutely not. Like I said, the guy probably deserved it.” Anna tries to turn away, but Amy doesn’t let her. “Listen. I want you to come with me now, okay? I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
“But this is my home. Not sure I want to depart.” She rubs her arm in a nervous gesture. “The blood still follows.”
“I know, Anna. Believe me, I know. But it’s okay. Where we’re going, it won’t matter.”
The young, disheveled woman tilts her head and stares up at her older, stronger sister with gloomy pupils. It’s as if she’s calculating her next words with precise care and concern. “Don’t want to hurt you. How can I trust myself, sis?” She grips Amy’s hand. “Don’t leave me alone.”
“I won’t. Whatever happens next, we’re in this together.”
Anna smiles and wraps her sister in a hug. Amy wastes no time in returning the embrace. Were that she could, she’d never let go. Not again. “Whatever things you have, get them. We’re leaving,” she tells Anna. “No turning back now.”
As they part, the younger woman hesitates, staring back at the corpse and the pool of blood that now stains her residence. Or is it former residence? Yes, that’s what it is now. Anna then nods to her older sister before stepping away to go collect her things.
“Amy…” Professor Viali whispers, once Anna is out of ear shot.
“What?” Amy monotones.
“You said Anna left after you lost your parents, and after you joined the Marines.”
“That’s right.”
“How did you lose them? Your parents.”
“Anna killed them.”
“How?”
Amy looks down at Dapper Drake’s body. Then, she blinks, and she’s back to a time she would rather forget. A shining coat of blood covers the kitchen floor, her mother’s throat still leaking. Several feet away, her father rests, lifeless. His neck is bent out of shape, with bone threatening to peek out from inside. In the doorway to the house, Anna stands, the night’s darkness draping her like a phantom, and her parents’ blood stretching up her arms like crimson tattoos. Before Amy can say anything, her sister darts off.
“Violently,” Amy answers after a long pause. “Is that a problem?”
The professor shakes her head. “Not at all.”
As Anna returns, now wearing a much plainer pair of jeans and a quaint green sweater, she carries with her a hefty suitcase. The other two women can only wager guesses as to what’s inside. The professor has an easier time at it, though, as she hears the clattering of glass bottles from within, vaguely muffled by what are likely clothes and other assorted items.
“We should go,” Alexandra notes.
Amy nods. “Agreed. All set, Anna?”
“Chemicals and clothes. All very necessary. Let’s ready, set, go!”
“Indeed. What’s your plan for getting us out of here in one piece, Amy?” Vial asks. “I can’t imagine the rest of the carnies will be pleased to see Anna out and about.” She then points to her jacket pocket, where her needled glove remains at the ready, should the need for it arise. “I hadn’t planned on getting my hands dirty tonight, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
Amy waves a hand to dismiss the professor’s concerns. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve got everything under control.”
Vial squints in her direction. “You do?”
“As always.” At that, Amy pulls out a small trigger device from her pocket, and before anyone can protest, she clicks the button. From back outside, the echoes of a thunderous boom can be heard not far off. The walls of the funhouse even manage a little dance in response.
“What did you just do?” the professor questions.
“Bought us some time. Let’s move.”
The trio begin their trek back through the funhouse, and with Anna in the lead now, the entire journey is far simpler. Watching her sister navigate the space with graceful ease, Amy almost feels embarrassed that it took her as long as it did to figure it all out. Soon enough, though, they’re back outside, and the entire carnival is in a frenzy, with the staff and other performers alike racing around in every direction. Even with the sky now blanketed above in pure midnight black, a tower of smoke from the other end of the grounds remains visible, thanks to the fires emanating from below. The professor chances a glare toward Amy, who doesn’t look to catch it. This might explain her absence from earlier today; she’ll have to see about confirming that suspicion later.
Amy then urges her companions forward as she pulls her hood back on, concealing as much of her visage as she can. Not that it matters, as any individuals they pass by now have their attention focused on the disaster unfolding not 50 yards away. And as they find themselves at the gate in a matter of moments, it seems like the easiest of escapes is assured.
“Oy!” the trio then hear the constable shout, catching them just as they dash out. “Where do you think you’re going?!” He locks eyes with Anna. “You. You ain’t going anywhere.”
Cornelius charges them, obviously not in the mood for idle chatter. Amy stands ready to react and meet him head on, but Anna instead beats her sister to the punch, dropping her suitcase and darting forward. Cornelius lunges in her direction, throwing a wide haymaker toward the young woman. Anna responds with an effortless dodge, sidestepping the attack and twirling around the half-giant. Following through on her momentum, she leaps into the air and delivers a swift, swinging kick to the constable’s right temple, striking him with the brunt of her heel and sending him crashing to the ground with a booming thud.
“Sorry, Constable,” she says, making a graceful landing. “Didn’t want you to get hurt. But I have to leave.”
Amy stares at her sister, utterly dumbfounded. “Where in the fuck did you learn that?” She puts a hand up before her sister can answer. “You know what? Ignore that. Dumb question.”
After Anna regathers her things, she steals one last glance at her “home away from home.” She wonders about shedding a tear or offering a goodbye kiss, but rather than allowing herself to get emotional, she spits on the ground beside the constable’s unconscious body. A nod of affirmation from her sister is all she needs, then, to know she doesn’t belong here anymore.
Afterward, Amy guides Anna and Alexandra into the woods, wasting no more time on trivial sentimentalism. As they all begin stepping along the path Amy had originally routed from the main road, making sure to avoid any other fleeing civilians along the way, the leader of the troupe pulls her acrobatic sister several feet ahead. “Anna…” she mutters under her breath, just loud enough for her sister to hear, but low enough that the professor remains unaware. “Am I safe in assuming this isn’t the first time you’ve had an incident like this?”
Anna’s eyes dart around, as if she’s looking for an escape from the conversation, but her sister takes her hand.
“It’s okay. You can tell me,” Amy reassures her.
Anna lets out a sigh and nods.
“How many more have there been?”
The performer takes a moment to consider her response. “Nine other bodies,” she then answers, glancing at her free hand. “I couldn’t help it, they were… Handsy. Greedy. Gross.”
“I understand. And it’s okay. In fact, I think you should be proud,” Amy tells her sister. “Just like Dapper Drake, the world’s probably better off without them.” She grins, and Anna smiles in return, matching Amy’s enthusiasm. “I love you, Anna. I’m sorry I never said it enough when we were younger, and I’m sorry I didn’t come to find you sooner. But now that we’re together again, everything’s going to be just fine. We’ll get you set up nice at our new home, and then…we can finally begin.”
Anna tilts her head and offers a curious smirk, as if to ask, “Begin what?”
Amy wraps an arm around Anna, pulls her in close, and replies with a whisper. “We’re going to save the world.”