I'll Tell You a Story

Circles

It was a hot, sticky night, and the moon was half-eaten by bright clouds. There was no movement on the streets-no ill-humored partygoers heading out the clubs, no cops hunting pushers and their preys, no traffic rumbling from the nearby freeway. It was like the city had lost half of its population in an instant, the place already dead when it should be busy as bees. It was that night that the circles appeared in the sky.

They started as tiny dots of light, but grew bigger and formed curved lines, until they were full circles. Days after, their lights vanished, and what were left were slow-rotating rings of ashes. But they stayed in their positions, fixed marks like several north stars, and quiet as silent films. No one knew why they came or why did they exist. Well, except for Dan.

Dan was watching the circles for minutes, his eyes still glinting with solid amazement. A lanky rooty-blonde man with a horse mask and a red dragon tattoo on his neck came over and blocked the sight. Dan's face was too blank and glassy to register anything properly after the man drew the drapes.

"Are he awake yet?" Dan's anxiety was bright in his face.

"They are just waitin' for ya," a bulky neutral-ginger-haired, white as raddish man said. His mask was a gray elephant.

A man, almost his height, dove into the bed and hugged the newly-dressed pillows. He had vintage Beatle haircut that was framing his face, covered in black rat mask. A pillow was taken from his grip by another man-fat, with a giraffe mask, and burn scars on his right arm.

A shriek of the wind entered the room, so did the three men with different farm-animals-inspired masks. They escorted a man inside, hair was so disheveled and needed a cut, and he had bags under his eyes. His hands were tied so tightly, twitching with unaccustomed exertion.

He slumped hard to the marble floor after a meaty hand pushed his back. Judging by the sound heard, it already hinted how bad he would look like now. He stumbled backward in terror, clambering physically and mentally for an exit. All the energy drained from his body, he turned deathly pale and his eyes, encircled by dark rings, looked sunken. His warning systems were so sensitive, already feeling in the air that something bad will happen. Dan came towards him with his mighty bulk and pent-up rage-a storm flickered behind his dark glare. He could smell the man's fear, figuratively, then became reality as a foul odor burned under his nose. Piss. The man peed in his jeans.

Dan stared at his wedding ring, pulling him into past, to something painful. Dan gritted his teeth, his fury and desolation combining. "You killed my wife."

Dan veiled his face with a lion mask. And in just a second, the masked men cradled knives in their hands, lifting them in the air as they gathered around their prey. Their bodies hummed with devilish hatred, repeatedly stabbing him with mirthfulness. His chest rose and fell with every flesh lacerated in his body, his mouth pooled with blood. A series of strewn coughs stumbled out of his mouth, and he squeaked, his voice stretched tight between peaks of fear and pain. Too much blood cascaded from his wounds, soaking his now lifeless body like a thin paper spilled with apple juice.

"We've come full circle," chortled Dan.

"Call us again if you need help. You already know how the Circles work," one of the men replied, then they all removed their blood-splashed masks.

They could tell astonishment was still flashed in Dan's face even if he knew what to expect. He, like surrounded by several full-body mirrors, was looking at his versions from other universes.