Circus of the Dumb

Chapter 1

This one's name was Jackson. His hair was dark and matted, clinging to his forehead with his own sweat. When he first awoke, he was absolutely terrified, trembling noticeably in his little chair as he tried to get a decent sense of his surroundings. He didn't attempt to speak, unlike many before him—whether this was because he took notice of the duct tape secured against his mouth or he was simply too scared was uncertain.

He was in some sort of trailer. The lighting was rather dim, as the windows had been effectively covered, blocking out any instances of natural light. A lamp was situated some feet away, illuminating the cluttered desk it sat upon, and, unfortunately, the nearest objects; an utterly repulsive array of mutilated body parts were littered about and beyond the little table, the majority of them able to be clearly identified as female remains. The mere sight of them, real or not, only prompted the beginnings of tears to gather in the corners of the poor man's eyes.

There wasn't anything particularly special about Jackson. He was your average working man in his mid-twenties, an unlucky fellow who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was still too early to report him missing, were anybody to notice his absence in the first place; he lived alone in a dingy apartment, and had been hoping to unwind after work the night he was abducted. Sadly, any attempt at relaxation would have to wait.

The first to properly address him was Papa, as was typically the case. Those inhabiting the trailer alongside him practically accepted this as an unspoken rule, saving their mocking commentary and behaviors for when it could be deemed acceptable. For now, it was solely his time to shine, and they respected this by remaining silent as they hovered at the edges of the room, observing with a quiet interest. "Hello, Jackson," Papa Corn warmly greeted, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he approached the man bound to his chair. "Do you remember me?" His abductee did, but only to a vague degree—he had been sedated shortly after their first meeting, and so had not gotten a very good look at his attacker's face. He quickly shook his head in response to the question, his eyes wide with a blatant terror that only brought amusement to those stationed around the room. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of the whole thing, as his situation was beginning to resemble quite the horror movie cliché. A brief scan of his surroundings now indicated that there were at least five clowns eagerly watching him, perhaps awaiting some sort of signal to make their presences better known.

"No?" Papa questioned, tilting his head in what might have been mock disappointment. "Well, I suppose we were never formally introduced...allow me to fix that!" This final statement was spoken with childish glee, as if there was nothing utterly disturbing about this entire scenario. "My name is Papa Corn, and these are my friends." He gestured towards the clowns huddled around the doorway with a grin, and most of them seemed to reciprocate his attitude, even waving at the terrified man in the chair. He then playfully grabbed Jackson's leg, squeezing it with a gloved hand as he continued, "We're so excited to have you."

There was no verbal reply, as the trembling man had already been frightened into complete speechlessness, his cheeks damp with tears previously shed. He simply allowed his gaze to drift about the room as he attempted to decipher his captors' intentions, and Papa didn't seem to mind—admittedly, he enjoyed this level of submission, and it only caused his calm smile to widen. "Let's get this party started, shall we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No, Jackson certainly wasn't special. His body tensed when it was cut into, sharp cries muffled beneath duct tape moistened by sweat. Nothing out of the ordinary, nor particularly interesting for Papa, and so he allowed the other clowns to handle the action while he seated himself at the little desk in the center of the room, silently watching. The largest of the clowns, Noodledome, held the whimpering man down while Papa's right-hand man, Mister Blister, took care in swiftly removing Jackson's left ear—what a memento that would be, if not accidentally ingested by Noodledome later. The man was a bit cannibalistic, and child-minded to boot.

"There it goes," the only female of the group, Pipette, had commented in amusement as the severed ear fell to the floor, her gloved hands secured around a small camera; the girl enjoyed documenting victims. Noodledome simply emitted a string of giggles in response, a well-recognized trait of his, and Mister Blister offered a chuckle as Jackson struggled against the pain tearing through the left side of his head. Just another day in the life, really.

When it was all over, Noodledome leaned down and retrieved the ear from the floor, already licking his lips in hungry anticipation. "Noodle, wait," Pipette interjected, causing the large clown to temporarily freeze with the ear inches from his lips. Jackson merely released muffled sobs.

"No, let him have it," Papa Corn murmured from his place before the desk, his expression having become one of calm neutrality while he watched his cronies at work. He was caressing his lips with a gloved index finger, potentially on the verge of sucking on it like a downgraded popsicle. "He certainly won't be needing it." He was referring to Jackson with this statement, of course, and an amused smile spread across his face as he made eye contact with the bleeding man, Mister Blister now harshly taping a gauze pad against his wound.

"Say 'cheese', Jackie," Pipette playfully remarked as she snapped a photo of the scene, the sound of the flash accompanied only by Noodledome's grotesque chewing. Jumbo, the shortest of the bunch, was positioned by the trailer entrance as lookout, clapping his hands in a gesture of childish amusement throughout the process. Papa continued only to smile pleasantly, casually enjoying the show with his fingers against his lips.

 "Clean him up," he calmly ordered once the entertainment had gradually died down, prompting both Noodledome and Mister Blister to heft the mess of a victim out of his chair, his restraints having been removed prior to his little procedure. There was no resistance as he was easily carried out of the room, both Jumbo and Pipette eagerly following suit in their desire to keep up with the action. Only Papa himself remained, the hand not perched against his lips curiously twirling a battered playing card, his gaze softly transitioning from the now empty doorway to said object. "Very good," he murmured to himself as he observed the card, its imagery, although faded, clearly depicting an ear. "Very good indeed."