Page 8 of His to Fear
It’s a man, towering over me in a suit drenched in liquid gooey that shines red in the circus lights. His gloved hand wraps around my wrist, forcing me to follow after him. In my haste, I look around for the others, but realize they’re no longer in their assigned seats.
Panic flares inside me, hot and brutal, as I remember the words from the attendant as we entered the Gravewoods Fair.
The actors aren’t allowed to touch us.
He takes a few steps toward a dead end tucked away in thecorner, just out of sight from the performance, and the very air seems to tremble with foreboding.
I barely dare exhale as he traps me between his body and the wall, tilting his head down.
A pale mask clings to his face, covering all of his features. It’s cracked in jagged edges as if it were made of shattered porcelain while remaining intact. Two hollow eye sockets gape where his eyes should be, and streaks of dark, congealed blood trail down his cheeks like molten tears.
His touch on my wrist burns ever hotter, electricity shooting straight to my fragile heart. I feel his breath in my ear, despite the mask. I don’t feel like myself; the enchanting music and the performance become a blur together of seductiveness and heat. Then there’shim.
The masked, muscular man trapping me against a wall as if I’m his to devour, and I’m hypnotized. Turned on. All fucked up.
Andfuckis he tall.
Towering over me like a goddamned tree.
“Fuck, how tall are you?”
I can’t believe those words escaped my mouth.
He only dips his chin, chest rumbling despite no audible sound escaping him. I can tell he’s smirking from underneath the mask.
He leans closer, until our chests are basically brushing against each other, though my head only reaches right below his collarbone. His presence is an enigma in itself.
“Let me go,” I seethe, attempting to stem the fear bubbling to the surface.
He doesn’t listen, nor does he reply. He emanates control and power, something much more potent than the master and his marionette ballerina.
None of the scare-actors inside the circus seems to notice whatever it is that’s going on here, and I open my mouth toscream for help, even though I’m sure it’s all just fun for them. This is their job, and I’m here to be scared.
But this doesn’t feel like fun at all—this feels like something dangerous and all too frail for my heart to handle.
As if noticing my intentions to scream my lungs out, the stranger’s other gloved hand comes up to silence me.
I wipe my clammy hands against the fabric of my dress, swallowing excessively. I’m too short to escape him. He could easily overpower me.
There’s something in the way he’s standing close to me, all the while the erotic performance in the background is still taking place. The ballerina keeps dancing, and the master keeps watching and controlling her in that way that reeks of sensuality; it actually makes my heart pound harder.
The ballerina then circles the master, twirling around him as his hands roam her body. Seemingly touching every inch of her skin.
“It’s erotic, isn’t it?” the stranger whispers, sending a shiver of goosebumps all over my arms and spine.
“W-what?”
His hand gently glides over my neck, tilting my head even more toward the stage. His touch affects me more than I dare admit. It’s entirely too enchanting in here, like being hypnotized.
“The performance. The lack of control. You’re a pretty little candidate. I might take you home with me, bathe you in blood to make you more colorful. You do look a little pale.”
I bite my lip. Something is undeniably familiar with his voice, but I can’t make it out with the mask covering his face.
“I’ll see you later,” he promises.
I can feel the ghost of his breath along my hairline, and before I know it, I’m all alone. I brace myself against the wall, pressing my palms against the wall so as not to fall. My legs have turnedto jelly. If I let go of the wall, I know I won’t be able to hold myself up much longer.
Finally, a figure emerges from the other side of the circus, coming through the curtains while scanning their surroundings. Eveline catches sight of me and waves, her eyebrows drawn in confusion, silently asking what I’m doing.
