Page 2 of Hell of a Thing

A cool breeze whipped through the air, carrying with it the sounds of The Devil’s Carnival. Bright lights flickered on the Ferris wheel, drawing my gaze to the left. I took a moment to admire the metal monstrosity looming over thecarnival below. At a glance, it appeared perfectly normal, but I knew its secret. Some carriages contained special doors hidden beneath the foot trays that would give way at the push of a button. Whether that would be when it was safely near solid ground or at its zenith, would be up to the operator, and he wasn’t known for his mercy.

For the moment, those traps remained secure—the brightly spinning wheel meant to charm and delight. Human voices filled the air with laughter and joy.

But not for long.

The rest of the carnival was equally disarming, with canvas tents painted in deep purples, blues, and blacks shielding the games and food stations below. It was a painfully normal carnival meant to lull the local humans into a false sense of security.

A human child with the unsteady gait of an early walker wandered close to where I hid in the folded back curtain of our fortune teller’s tent, and I was forced to step back into the shadows lest the tiny cherub spot me. With curly blonde hair and round cheeks, it stared into the darkness, blowing raspberries until thick drool dribbled down its chubby chin.

It was so sickeningly sweet I wanted to vomit. Thankfully, the creature’s mother and father called to it in a tender voice, and it toddled back towards them, leaving me unseen within the shadows.

How I hated having to hide myself, but I was far too strong to have left the body I inhabited as recognizably human. Only the lesser demons who weren’t strong enough to influence human flesh were allowed to go out in the day and deal directly with humans. Pathetic weaklings. The best those low-ranked demons could manage were a few stubby horns that were easy to hide under a broad hat and with the advent of coloured contacts, no one noticed their strange eyes. But me? No. There was no hiding my crimson skin or the two onyx horns coming to a proud point high atop my head.

The insult of having to hide was soothed by knowing my time was coming. On Halloween, any deviations from a normal human appearance were met with delight, and I was only too happy to show them what the face of a high-ranked demon looked like. A wicked grin tugged at my lips. I belonged in a cautionary storybook.

Too bad the humans didn’t heed those warnings, assuming they were products of imagination meant to thrill. What pathetic beings they were. The truth was right there for them to see. Hell, The Devil, Demons, and all the various creatures hiding in the dark, we roamed the world unchecked. But humans preferred to think of us as fantasy—ignoring the ever-present danger barely concealed by the shadows.

In two days, I’d show them.

Chapter 2

Two Days Later

“Come on, Tom. Please?” There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I pressed my ear against the phone, trying to make out the muffled argument going on in the background.

“Listen, I’m sorry, but I promised Carly we’d shell out and watch a horror movie tonight. You know, Netflix and Chill, if you get my drift. It is a holiday, you know?”

It wasn’t that I didn’t understand where he was coming from, or acknowledge that sweet Carly, who loved hugs and Squishmallows, wouldn’t be interested in coming to The Devil’s Carnival, but I didn’t want to go alone.

Which was stupid. This was my night, and from what I could see of the fog rolling out of the entrance gate, this place was going to be amazing. At least my camera could keep me company.

“It’s okay, Tom. I get it. Really. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course.” Tom’s relief was palpable.

“And Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you please put on an actual horror movie to watch with Carly? None of that Shark-Hurricane or whatever shit she thinks is dark.” Tom’s laughter on the other end of the line warmed my heart.

“Yeah, I’ll put on something good. Have fun.”

“You too.” I hung up just as a grumpy old woman wearing a maid costume walked up with a cardboard box full of cell phones. She gestured with a wrinkled hand at my device.

“No phones allowed inside.”

What?I stared in horror at her uncaring face, looking around me to see if anyone else was shocked at her request, but I only saw amusement on the faces of other people in line.

“Oooh. Scary,” the college-aged guy behind me said as he swooped his phone through the air before placing it in the box. Reluctantly, I dropped mine on top of the others with a clunk, looking longingly as my rhinestone studded case slid to the side and mixed with the others until it was half hidden. A thrill chased its way up my spine.

Without my phone, I wouldn’t have a way to contact anyone.

I wouldn’t have a way to call for help.

Thankfully, she didn’t request I take the camera hanging from my neck and add it to the pile. She merely offered it a passing glance before moving down the line.

Even more intrigued by the promise of this carnival, I watched as a man in the ticket booth handed the first person in line a clipboard stacked with paper. He had an enormous, hooked nose which he rubbed nearly constantly, and the glazed look of someone forced to do monotonous work for hours on end. His red and white striped vest reminded me of someone from an old theater ticket booth. It was tight across the chest and seemed like something his employer had forced him to wear.

---