Demon's Hide

The Carnival: The Fabulous Mr. Faire

Female Male Character x Male Monster

The carnival came to town one day and, as much as I wanted to go, I knew it wasn't my time yet. My friend and roommate begged me to go with her, but I knew in my bones I wasn't supposed to go there yet, so I made up a story. Not really something I had to make up on the spot, it was a story my mother had been telling me for ages. It worked, at least, and I knew that once the carnival left, my friend would leave with it.

Ever since I was little, I've had these strange premonitions, not like the visions and crystal balls you see in the movies. It's more like a gut reaction, a small voice or whisper on the breeze and a sudden knowing and understanding. A sigh and a nod "oh, ok" is usually how it goes. My mom told me it started when I was little and I would tell my mom that we would need to buy a cake for so and so soon. My mom soon learned that when I said that, it meant someone was going to die. That wasn't exactly what a horror writer wanted to figure out from her child, but the more I grew, the more the premonitions turned from death to other things.

My mom figured I predicted deaths first because they were the strongest things I could sense. The older I got, the more I would be able to predict. I suppose it was lucky my mom wrote horror for a living. It gave her an insight and patience to deal with this strange gift I was given. She was very right about it too. The older I became, my predictions moved to smaller things, while death was still a heavy knowledge, lighter things became easier to pick up. My mom and I agreed to tell no one about this and I promised Mom it wasn't something I could use at will. It really wasn't. It was more like I was a postman for these strange messages.

The carnival has often whispered to me. Something, perhaps even someone, kept me up to date on where it was. "Fifty miles away due north."

"Seventy miles away if you go south-east."

"Eighteen miles west on Sunday."

I'm not sure why I have some sort of internal GPS for this carnival. All I can figure is that when I was little, I latched onto the story of the carnival my mother told me about. The story of the carnival and how my grandfather died. It didn't occur to me until my best friend, June, decided to go to the carnival, that I had any clarity on my connection to it.

When June asked me to go, I realized I couldn't. Not that I didn't want to, I was crazy curious about the place. After all, I had been whispered to about its location all my life! How could I not want to go? But I was told I couldn't go, it was far too soon for me to go. It was my friend's time and she would be happy with what she found there. But for me, I would have to wait a little while longer.

When June told me she was going to have to move out, I understood. Whatever she found at the carnival was what she needed. After that, I decided to move back home for a bit and spend some time with my mom.

It happens one cold afternoon while I am checking the mail. A painfully sharp breeze blows past me and knocks my hat off my head. As I go to fetch it, I take a deep breath and watch as a piece of paper flies towards me down the street. It hits my leg and, before I even pick it up, I know what it is.

Mr. Faire's Children of the Night Carnival.

"Now."

I look up, clutching the flyer tight in my hands. My guts churn and a surge of cold nerves shoots through my body.

"It's time."

I pick up my hat from the ground and go inside, still holding the flyer in my hand. I can smell coffee from the kitchen, meaning my mom has come out of her office for a break from writing.

She is leaning over the counter, watching the carafe fill up. She sits up as I come in. "Anything good?" She asks.

I had actually forgotten to check the mailbox, I got caught up in the moment. "It hadn't arrived yet."