Page 2 of The Carnival

Tomorrow never came.

I shove my phone back into my jacket, tightening it around me to help fight the cool air. The last photo still remains on her inactive Instagram account, calling me like a mosquito to a flame. She stood right beneath the gate in front of me. The twisted metal and fairy lights made her smile look electric.

It was at the bottom of her post that I noticed the hashtag she used, and how I started down this rabbit hole. #the_carnival.

The police gave up about four years ago, a case of a simple ‘was old enough and she probably just ran away.’ Our parents haven’t been involved in our lives for a very long time, simply because one is a drunk, the other so intoxicated with his love that she never cared for their two daughters. When Evelyn turned 18, she became my guardian and that was that. But since her disappearance, I’ve never stopped looking for her, and I never will.

Music drifts through the trees, hypnotic and slightly off-key. It’s enough to make my skin prickle and the hair on the back of my neck rise, but The Carnival, as far as I know, holds the answers.

The Ferris wheel looms against the darkening sky, lights blinking in patterns with whatever music is playing. A Big Top stands in the middle, and I can see it from here as it towers like a god among men.

“Excuse me!” A young girl says as she runs past me, laughing and pulling along a friend with her. I want to reach out to her, to pull her back, to beg her not to go inside.

Don’t they feel it? The strange sensation like a thick oil in the air, something clawing from the ground beneath my feet. Seeping into my soul, the very core of who I am. Is this what Evelyn felt before she breached its gates, or is it simply my own imagination?

Every seven years, people disappear. Last time it was my sister — this time, I’ll find answers.

“One ticket,” I tell a man, his face painted half white and half silver, sliding across a twenty-dollar bill.

He looks at me before turning away, and I can hear murmuring as if he’s talking to the shadows themselves. I take a deep breath, ignoring the private conversation he seems to be having. Inside his booth somewhere, a bell jingles, and he turns back to me.

Smiling, he slides the money back to me, along with two tickets – one white, one blue. “Congratulations, you’re our special customer on opening night. It means your ticket is free, along with a blue ticket that gets you into the Big Top show for free as well. You’ll have them both marked.”

“Really?” I can’t help but ask, I’m not one to believe in coincidences, but I also know how expensive the show for the Big Top was. It wasn’t worth what I was going to pay, I told myself.

“Yes, of course, dear.” He smiles again, and I take the tickets from his hand. “Welcome to The Carnival.”

Chapter 2

The fog becomes thicker the further I walk into the grounds of The Carnival. I pull my phone out and, just as the forums suggest, as soon as you enter — no service. I huff and return it into my back pocket. A chill sweeps up my spine as I look around, tattered pennants snap overhead in a wind I didn’t feel before I entered.

The Ferris wheel looms in the distance, the rides creak and moan as if in pain, game booth lights glow brightly with peeling paint on their sides, and the unmistakable scent of cotton candy surrounds me. Laughter filters through, but beneath it all, I keep feeling the same as I always have since Evelyn went missing — something’s wrong here.

I clutch the tickets tighter, feeling the edge of them in my palm. “I’m coming, Evie.”

A woman with red-painted skin contorts inside a glass box, her limbs bending at impossible angles. Our eyes meet briefly before she turns, arching her spine backward until her head nearly touches her heels.

I continue with the crowd that moves down the midway, past games where patrons throw darts at balloons shaped like screaming faces. The barkers call out in sing-song voices that seem to echo longer than they should. A man catches my arm as I pass through.

“Try your luck, pretty lady? Win a prize for someone special?” He asks, face painted like a classic clown with a handlebar mustache.

“I’m looking for someone,” I quickly pull out a photo of Evelyn from the Polaroid camera she bought before she went missing. “My sister. She was here ... before.”

His smile remains fixed as he takes the photo from my hand, scanning it with his dark-colored eyes.

“Don’t recognize her,” he says. “Pretty girl though, it’s a shame.”

I snatch the photo back without another thought, the word shame sending chills down my spine.

“But – ” he leans closer until I can feel his stale breath along my cheeks. He sucks his teeth before a smirk appears on his face. “ – if anyone might know something, it’s The Illusionist.” He taps his temple with one long, gloved finger. “Man can see what’s seen and unseen, can make you see it too.”

“The Illusionist,” I repeat, backing away slowly, debating if this barker is just out of his mind or if it might be an actual lead. “Where do I find him?”

The man gestures with a flourish toward the far end of The Carnival grounds. “The mirrored tent. Can’t miss it.” His smile widens. “Though, because you seem like a sweet girl, I should warn you — sometimes looking for answers leads to nothing but more questions. Sometimes not knowing truly is a blessing.”

“Thank you?” I say, more as a question than a statement. I turn on my heel, wanting to get as far away from him as I can. I’ve always been a believer in following your gut, and my gut has been screaming to turn back since the ride here. But now, it’s yelling for me to run.

He catches my wrist, his hand cold despite the jacket and gloves between us. “The Carnival claims what it desires, and rarely returns what it takes.”