PoeTheWriter's random book store discussion

Prologue
It was a stormy night when it happened. The night right after the big performance from the traveling circus that had shown up in the area. The show had gone pretty well, so everybody was unexpecting of what was about to happen.
While all the other actors were asleep in their tents and trailers, one particular actor, who had always had a bad reputation of getting in trouble, was wide awake and alert…
A strangely tall masculine figure snuck up towards the Ringmaster's trailer, his steps, almost inaudible.
The trailer's lights were completely extinguished, hard evidence that the man inside was sound asleep, probably dreaming. He was right where the figure wanted him.
There was the smallest of sounds, a tiny click, as the man picked the lock, and a subtle creak as he opened the door as carefully as possible, as if he knew the trailer had a habit of making noises with the smallest of movements.
The ringmaster continued to sleep, oblivious to the man that now stood bent over his prone form. Unbeknownst to him, that show, might be the last he ever directed, and that tonight, would be the night he would rue the day he ever brought that wretched actor into his home.

The Ringmaster's features where illuminated by the dim glow of the full moon, the light was trickling gently through the slightly closed curtains. A sharp, angular jaw that had a few, still bleeding, scratches that the man had gained from trying to touch a stray cat that had wandered into the circus grounds. Short, curly black hair fell gently over his face, the hair looked like, if put under just the right lighting, it might glow.
Other than the blemishes and scars the man's face carried, and the... slight crook in his nose from it being broken so many time trying to train actors, he would've probably been the most handsome man alive. And the figure hated him, absolutely despised him, not because of his looks, but because of his attitude and harshness to his employees.
The figure standing over the sleeping ringmaster was about.. 6’5” at the very least, it had been hard for the witness to tell because he had been bent over, not that the Ringmaster would’ve recognized him anyways. He wore a mask, much like a jester’s, but it looked almost as if there were no eye holes for the mask, a simple white porcelain with a black, closed eye drawn on it, and a wide smile that made a “:)” type of smile. A green diamond was painted under the drawing of the closed eye.
Of course, this figure held a simple weapon, an item that glinted under the moonlight, it had the shape of a knife, but it was too small, too… thin, almost like a scalpel, but it was too long to be a scalpel. The man held it over the Ringmaster’s exposed neck. His intentions were clear, a servant of evil hunting down a helpless victim.

(view spoiler)[The scene was gruesome if anything after the killer slipped out. The Ringmaster was left a bloody mess, his head basically hanging by a few threads, his throat completely ripped out, his chest had been sliced open, the heart and lungs having been exposed and the hands looked like they had been ripped off. His eyes had been gouged out and thrown into the trailer sink, where they had been crushed until there were nothing more than a gross jelly of eyeball bits and blood that refused to drain, his tongue had been sliced off and his jaw almost torn off, hanging on by an inch of stiff muscle. His head had somehow been almost cracked open, and when the police had found him, all the liquids of the brain had escaped, adding to the gross almost soup-like puddle underneath him. (hide spoiler)]
When the killer supposedly escaped, the circus was abruptly lit on fire, including all the actor tents, the trailer the Ringmaster had been peacefully sleeping and so brutally mauled in remained standing and we found only one survivor of the incident.
It looked like the killer had been clearly intent on some form of revenge or cruel joke, maybe he was part of a different circus that wanted to sabotage this one’s progress.
Or at least… that's what I thought when I read the reports, when I looked more closely, I had a feeling that something was up, the supposedly awake Actor that had given the report had been a ginger man… but the description he gave was that of one of his co-workers.
When we tried to question the ginger about the ringmaster’s treatment of his Employees, he would go silent and his posture would go rigid, as if he was being forced to hide something. We didn’t push him to reveal anything, his medical records gave proof that the poor man had gone through a lot of traumatic experiences that had gotten to his psyche.

I’m starting to wonder if any of this is even real, or if this was a cruel prank pulled on the circus. The employees of the place seemed happy with their lives, always excited to entertain others. But now I’m thinking… what if that was all fake? What if they all were forced to act that way to hide something?
The Ringmaster had indeed been found dead, in a bloody puddle in his bed, but there were no signs of a struggle on his head, the scene had been painted with his innards and brain fluids though, and obviously the killer had been smart enough to clean away any evidence that’d lead us to their true identity. We’ve given the killer the name of “The Jester”, for his mask.
I can only hope that we can find him and bring him in, before more people die. We had already lost everybody in the Circus, other than Eddie, the poor ginger man that seemed to panic any time we even whispered about the place. Eddie’s reactions are only adding to my tension, he acts like he doesn’t want us to find out the truth.
There had been reports of a ‘demonic’ figure with crimson hair showing up recently as well, being seen at the edge of the forest the killer had been said to have fled into. The figure acted like it was guarding something, killing anybody who got close, and not letting the police set a single foot into the woods.
I will admit, the crimson hair is disturbing, and it wears a mask a lot like the killer’s, but black, I’m starting to think maybe there were two of them. That one was the arsonist and the other the cold-blooded murderer. It was a possibility, according to Eddie, there were a lot of people who absolutely hated the Ringmaster.
I’m going to question Eddie again, see if he’ll finally reveal anything…

Chapter 1 – Burnt Lives
I was walking through the halls of the harsh, sterile police station, strolling towards the interrogation room where the ginger man was waiting. I paid no mind to the bustling around me, my mind locked on one single task.
I was tasked with figuring out this murder, and I was going to, no matter what had to happen.
Even if it meant I had to pry the truth out of Eddie, I was willing to make the sacrifice of losing the man’s trust if it meant stopping the ruthless figure.
I opened the door to the bland, dull interrogation room, a small ginger figure was sitting nervously in a chair at a long table.
The figure had shoulder length hair, and a single, piercing green eye, the other one had been apparently brutally stabbed out by his now-dead co-worker. Though normally Eddie could be seen wearing a flamboyant, colorful outfit, today, he wore a simple zip-up pale pink hoodie with a black v-neck t-shirt and bluejeans.
“Greetings, Edward.” I spoke in a calm manner as to not spook the man.
I strode towards the other side of the table, feeling Eddie’s eye on me, I knew he was watching my every move, trying to find ill-intent. I did my best to keep my posture calm and open.
When he was finally satisfied with the idea that I wasn’t a threat, he relaxed in the chair a bit, though his gaze darted around the room nervously.
“Do you know why I requested you to be brought in today, Mr. Trevor?” I asked calmly, watching his movements.
“I mean… kind of…?” the words came out haltingly, he was stammering slightly, “It’s something about Andrew’s murder… isn’t it?”
I didn’t verbally respond to his question, simply nodded, grimacing a bit. Eddie was the only one in the circus who knew the Ringmaster by name, everybody else had only known him as “Boss” or “Ringmaster.”
“Listen, Edward,” I muttered softly, “I know you were in a bad situation, that you don’t want to reawaken old memories, but we need to know this information to catch the killer, before he can possibly harm you.”
Eddie seemed to pause and consider my words, his head tilting to the side slightly as if weighing his options.
“How can I know this information won’t… somehow get into his hands?” he tentatively asked, and he had a valid point.
I knew I couldn’t secure his safety completely, no matter how much I wanted to, but I refused to give him a false sense of security.
“I’m afraid I can’t guarantee that quite yet, we have no clue what this man is capable of.” I admitted.
“I see…” he replied, almost surprisingly calm, “I suppose I have no choice then.”
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling slightly at the man’s cooperation, even though he had been traumatized, most likely by the murder victim, he was still willing to help track down the person who threatened the very fiber of his living.
“Grand, we won’t do it today, are you available on… let’s say… Wednesday this week?” I inquired, trying to think of a day I had free.
“I actually am,” he explained, “The store you guys sent me to to find work doesn’t schedule me on Wednesdays.”

“Well, thats amazing!” I exclaimed, “I’m off duty at 4:30PM, shall we meet at the cafe downtown?”
He nodded in agreement, “That sounds acceptable to me.”
With the time set and the place determined, I let Eddie leave, and stood back up from the table, stretching a bit before going towards the door myself.
When I finally exited the room, I came face to face with my co-worker and partner in the investigation, Johnathan.
“Bridgeham, I have some crucial news that might provide a bit of insight on who the murderer might be.” Johnathan stated quickly, getting straight to the point, “We’ve discovered amongst the bodies… one other actor was missing other than Mr. Trevor.”
“Oh?” I asked, “Who?”
I tried to wrack my brain for possible answers, bringing up a mental list of the well known quartet everybody focused on in the show, Jennifer Crane, Edward Trevor, Fumai Azazel had all been accounted for in either the dead or alive list.
“Zachary Poe Yin’s body is missing sir, we are unsure if it is because he was either away from the scene at the time, committed it, or he was also murdered and his body was stolen.”
I could feel my muscles coil like springs ready to burst at Johnathan’s words. How had I forgotten about the least well known of the quartet? Zachary had always looked like he had been a threat.
Zachary had been an oddly skinny and tall man, standing around the height of 6’9”, or 2.05 centimeters, bending down would’ve made him 6’5”... it was almost too good to be true.
I tried to think of other defining features of Zachary, my thoughts scattering in my pursuit of answers. I knew he had once had bright blonde hair that had gotten browned from the harsh climates the circus sometimes went to, and his eyes… God those heterochromatic eyes were horrifying, not that they were unnatural but the way those blue and green irises stared into your soul to read all your thoughts. Other than that the rest of the features were a mystery to me.
As I bid Johnathan farewell I decided on something. It was time to visit the actual scene of the crime, no matter how many times I’ve been declined. I’d find a way, even if it meant breaking the very law I was supposed to be enforcing, it needed to be done, and I was prepared to take the risk.
With that, I set out towards the front of the police station. Unusually, the normal buzz of the station was drowned out by an unnatural ringing sound, one I was severely unused to.

When I exited the station, I blinked rapidly, I must admit, I will never get used to the transition between the dark and drab of the building and the bright sunlight of the outer world. As my eyes adjusted, I could make out the distant silhouette of the city capital building.
The building reached high above the other structures of the city, a large tower of steel and glass. Just above the first floor hung the state’s flag, flying proud, the white backdrop enhancing the blue badge and ribbon. In the center of the badge stood a Native American, holding a hunting longbow, it was a flag I had seen multiple times, having lived in Massachusetts my entire life.
Living in Foxborough, Massachusetts, had been what I did all my life, I was born in the Mercy Hospital a few miles away from this exact police station, and I went to the Foxborough school system for my entire education, ever since I was five years old, that was thirty-three years ago, I’m 38 now.
As I made my journey to the scene of the recent murder, my mind started wandering. I began to entertain my own thoughts, trying to figure out who exactly it could be who did such a cruel and heartless operation. The mentioned possibility of it being the man the ringleader had adopted himself caused a drowning sense of dread to course through my veins. The mere thought of somebody the murdered man was supposed to care for being driven to take the life of the very person who had given him the chance to return to society was frightening.
I was completely oblivious to the fact that I was nearing the fine edge of the dead-end street the circus was originally on, not until a fellow officer that was accompanying the detective called out to me.
“Aye, Deputy!” the man spoke in a raised voice to earn my attention, “Come on over here for a moment if you may.”
The mannerism was odd, very few chose to address me in a way that acknowledged my role as the deputy of the local Sheriff, let alone try to get my attention. They had all been taught as rookies that the figure of Deputy was to be feared and respected, not treated as a comrade or somebody to be seen on the same level of authority.
I carried myself to the pair in a fashion I hoped would veil my turmoil, the long strides closing the distance between us quickly. I studied the detective from a distance, a man named Eric.

Eric was a height of about 5’3”, or 160 centimeters, with feather soft brown hair that was almost black, and the sharpest grey eyes you’ve ever seen. Eyes that seemed to search you for any hint of untruthfulness, dishonesty, or acting. I knew from experience that multiple people quickly become restless in Eric’s presence, almost as if he were a fragrance in the air. Calming some while irritating others.
He wore, from what I could tell under the heavy coat, what looked like a business suit, odd. A crime scene with blood is not usually something somebody would be willing to wear a suit to, especially one that required to be drycleaned. His skin was fair, almost unblemished, except for the subtle hint of a strike on the cheek with a razor of some sort. I wonder if he actually needs to shave, he looks way too young to be growing a beard.
The slightest crook of his nose indicated the old break, story was he had been hit in the face with a basketball one too many times, but I’m starting to think otherwise. The way he has a habit of rubbing that exact, precise point on the thin bridge of his nose whenever we’re investigating cases of domestic violence tells a different story. Unless I’m going crazy and just assuming things, but I’ve known Eric since I was ten. We were old friends, well… sort of.
A long time ago we were in the same school, before he had to move away. “Family death,” is what the principal had said. I found that to be a lousy excuse, flimsy, even breakable if given careful enough scrutiny. And it almost seems, that I was right. If it was family issues, why had Eric returned after five years? Why did he come back alone with his mother, after his father had died. I had later found out that his father, the previous chief of police, had remained in Foxborough while Eric and his mother moved away to Boston.
Now Eric was back, and healthier than ever. He looked to be actually eating full meals now, and he was either constantly at work signing papers in his small office or caring for his weakened mother.
I hadn’t realized Eric was looking at me again, until I finally snapped back into reality. I zone out very easily, and it’s one of my many flaws that proved I might not, in truth, be worthy of my rank as deputy. Gazing into those endless grey eyes caused my stomach to practically do a flip, I felt exposed—— like I couldn’t hide—— it was both unnerving and exciting congruently.
“Officer Bridgeham,” Eric spoke, his voice was exactly how I remembered it, just deeper, “It’s an honor to be working with the deputy of the F.P.D.”
I found myself not speaking, simply nodding and gesturing a greeting with the palm of my hand. My own actions confused me, I was usually what they called a chatterbox, maybe Edward’s attitude of constant vigilance and similar silence was rubbing off on me. I brushed off the suspicion, it couldn’t be possible, I didn’t even know Edward outside of the case, but the thought began to linger in the recesses of my mind, like a microscopic parasite feeding on my fears and qualms.

“We’ve recounted the bodies sir,” the police officer informed me, “Our numbers were wrong, not counting Mr. Trevor, there are two that are unaccounted for.”
“And who did those two bodies belong to?” I turned my attention towards the officer.
If Johnathan’s suspicions were correct, then Zach’s body was missing, that was very likely. Zach was easy to notice, if they had missed his corpse during the first count, he was expectantly gone. The second was less likely to be able to identify, unless we figured out who every single person in the circus was and see who else, other than Edward and Zachary, was missing from the line-up.
“We have reason to believe they are Zachary Yin and…” the officer paused, “Fumai Azazel.”
Fumai. The name struck a nerve close to my heart, the strange man that had been the star of the quartet. He was the last person to be a suspect of a homicide, he had continually been a calm figure, often keeping Zach and the others in check while the Ringmaster let them run wild.

My chest felt as if it would burst open, my heart hammering in my ears, drowning any noise that would’ve been processed otherwise. I was panicking in a sense, my assumptions about the killer having an affiliate were correct. Or so I thought. Two killers were always harder to catch than one, in my opinion. I’ve dealt with these types of cases for ages, I know how a killer tends to think.
But this case was much more… shall I say… interesting. I can’t figure out their motives, there had never been reports of ill intent with the Ringmaster. And I was already starting to regret ever accepting this job, and I knew, I would hate it by the end. If we ever caught the arsonist, I’m not entirely sure if he’ll be regretting anything. I’m sure currently he’s proud of himself, proud that he probably did something good in his own view.
I composed myself enough to direct my vision towards the remains of the circus, easily discerning the outline of where we had previously managed to tame the fires. First responders still searched the debris for possible survivors, even though I had qualms about the possibility of people who might’ve made it out of there alive still being found.
As far as we all knew, Edward was the only one that was accounted for that was actually living.

My thoughts were cut short when a shout echoed through the oppressive silence, they had found somebody. I started, my head jerking in the direction of the shout with a sharpness that almost wrenched my neck. I need to stop reacting to loud noises like that, or else I’ll get injured, but my mind wasn’t on my own wellbeing at that instant.
I felt myself turning towards the area that the loud yell had been heard. It was near the center of the site, only a few meters away from the source of the fire. I ran towards the first responders, easily out-maneuvering Eric’s attempt to stop me.
Skidding to a halt my gaze fell upon the corpse, feeling bile rise up in my throat at the simple sight of it.
(view spoiler)[It was the body of a middle-aged man, burnt beyond recognition, the flesh and muscles starting to sag off the body. The flesh was a harsh brown-ish black color, much like that of an almost charred steak, the hair nothing but non-existent. The facial features were sunken in, the fleshy color of the lips standing out among the burnt coloring, and the eyelids were hollowed in, indicating the man had no eyes. The clothing was completely burnt off, luckily the first responders had saved me from such a sight by covering half of the upper body and the lower half of the man with what I referred to as a “death sheet.” The only splash of normal color remaining was the yellow-ish white of the mistreated teeth. (hide spoiler)]

I had obviously almost thrown up, though I suppose, it felt like I wasn’t in my own body at the time, but the first responders were now trying to guide me away from the sight, probably trying to stop me from truly spilling my last meal all over any evidence there was.
I had never been strong stomached, often having issues with eating anyways, and now, I don’t think I’ll be eating anything for a couple of days.
“Officer Bridgeham,” The chief of the fire station addressed me directly, “I really must request you not try to look at the victim.”
He sounded serious, and I felt an emotion that was unfamiliar to me stir up in my chest, regret… why was I regretting looking at the body? It was evidence! I shouldn’t be feeling like I had killed the man, I hadn’t.
I gazed straight into the chief’s eyes, before forcing myself to nod in agreement. I would not be defying orders today, not when my title depended on my attitude to this case.
Finding myself thinking back to the one person I had found love in, I moved away from the scene, wandering around the site instead.
That one person, my fiance Lilith, had been my constant companion since our sophomore year of college. She was rarely home anymore, constantly out with her friends, and never speaking to me when we were in a location concurrently. I never looked into her actions, or the transactions that were made between her and the bank, and I probably should’ve.
I reached my homestead once more, fishing the keys out of my coat pocket and working the lock before attempting to open the door, it let out a loud groan as it swung open to expose the slightly dusty nominal space of the entryway.
Simply tossing my coat towards the rack, I didn’t bother double checking to see if it had caught on one of the hooks. Instead I shuffled towards the bedroom I once shared with Lilith, until she decided sleeping in the livingroom was more appealing to her than with her own fiance.
My attention was turned towards the framed picture upon the dresser, it was a snippet of the past. Back when my childhood best friend was alive, he had died shortly before the circus incident, and I frequently visit his grave.

Chapter 2 – Pretty Little Lies
I had apparently passed out, because when I opened my eyes, I was laying flat on my chest, at an odd angle upon the bed. I shifted my position until I could sit up properly, rubbing my temples.
It was midday, about 1 O’ clock by the way the sun shone into the room. I stood up and made my way to the window to look outside. The sky was almost perfect, a bright, pale blue.
I turned around towards the door, which was slightly ajar, somebody had been in the room, because I clearly remembered shutting the door all the way behind me. I checked the window to make sure it was locked properly before looking in the direction of the night stand. My breath caught in my throat.
The picture of Aaron was missing, where it once stood proudly on the nightstand, and hand print was planted in the dust. My only remembrance of my best friend was missing.
I started to hyperventilate, my breath coming in sharp, heavy gasps as I started searching for the picture. Maybe I had moved it in my daze, and forgot where I put the frame. But I knew this was very unlikely. The probability of me misplacing something important, even when I wasn’t fully in the correct state of mind, was very low.

I slammed the closet doors open, revealing the tight space where supplies and clothing were held. Rummaging through it, I found the tablet connecting to the home security system, hoping to check the cameras.
The connection was broken. Not a button I tried worked, it was as if somebody, or something, had managed to hack the system. All that was coming up were error messages.
I felt the blood in my veins starting to boil, my face getting slightly flushed from my rage. I almost threw the device against the ground, but I collected myself before I could act. Letting out a small but heavy sigh, I set the tablet down on the nightstand and strode towards the door into the hallway.
Peeking into the kitchen, I saw nothing out of the ordinary, the livingroom looked exactly how I left it the previous night. I decided to check the lock on the door to see if that was the case.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing was wrong, not even the angle of the key-hole. It was perfect, a bit too perfect. I double checked everything I could think of, the windows were in the right position, the locks on them looking almost new with a small sheen from the sunlight. The blankets and the pillows on the couch were arranged in a way it was semi-presentable. All the dishes were done, and put away, the sinks had been cleaned.
Whoever had come in was either a clean freak or trying to send a message.
That was when I saw something off-celter, the blanket Lilith always used was gone, the dark green wool comforter she had insisted on keeping in the livingroom was not on the couch in it’s usual spot.
I crouched down onto the ground, using my hands and knees to come down to the floor’s level, searching for the comforter. There was a small rumpled object near the back of the couch.
I reached out, trying to grab the object. My hand closed around a crumpled piece of notebook paper, and I pulled it out.
I spread the paper out, making it go flat and opening it to read what was written in it.
“Dear Jacob,
I noticed your issues with your fiance, don’t worry, she’ll be dealt with quickly, unless you want your heart to continue to be stuffed with those pretty little lies.
If you wish to save your future wife, try to find me before time runs out. You won’t manage anyways, and I’ll have my victory. Don’t try to stop me if you value your safety… and the memory of your friend Andrew.
~The Jester”
My heart almost stopped dead in its tracks as I read the note.
The Jester. The figure I was hunting for. He had been in my house, and hadn’t bothered to kill me..? This couldn’t be true.
I glanced around, looking for another clue. He had to have left something behind, some give-way, no matter how small. But I saw nothing.
Whoever this “Jester” was, he was nothing if not smart. But even smart criminals slip up at times, and I prayed to whatever deity was out there listening that The Jester would mess up, and mess up soon.
I couldn’t afford to lose Lilith, to lose the one person I truly loved, but my curiosity was peaked. What had that elusive fox meant by “Pretty little lies?” Was Lilith lying to me about something?
Maybe it was about her diet, she had said she was going to go on a weight-losing diet, but had never explained why.
I, personally, found her cute with her slightly chubby cheeks and deep blue eyes, usually a few locks of golden yellow hair falling into them.
Deciding to check the fridge, I went back into the kitchen, opening the slightly heavy fridge door. The light triggered and flashed in my face, illuminating the food options.
We didn’t have very many vegetables or meats in the appliance, partly because Lilith constantly insisted on eating out on her own, leaving me with whatever freezer meals she threw in there.
A few dejected looking salad greens were shoved into a corner, already wilting from lack of water. On the bottom shelf, there were a few fruits and vegetables, mostly apples and carrots. We were low on milk, I’d have to go to the grocery store soon.
Temporarily distracted by the lack of the food in the house, my mind started to wander from the current situation. I felt myself drifting in a space between consciousness and the subconscious.
I felt my stomach growl, and I glanced downwards, the sound and feeling startling me out of the trance-like state. Sighing, I went towards the door, I’d get something from a local gas station on the way to work.

I unlocked the door to the garage, going inside to get into my car, only to find it trashed. It was utterly destroyed, the tires had been slashed, and the glass was shattered. The hood had been forced open and the engine was wrecked, pistons missing and leaking oil.
Whoever did this must really want me to not get in their way… I thought to myself.
Pulling out my cell-phone, I dialed the number for the towing company, inhaling deeply as I steeled myself to explain the situation. I was going to be late for work, this wasn’t good.
My reputation at the station was already at stake, and one late day may shatter all the carefully placed accomplishments I’ve done to get to the place I currently am. Sure, I’m still living in a dingy old house with barely any heating system, but pay was low now-a-days. I was doing my best, and because Lilith never paid for anything, my wallet was a bit too light.
The company never picked up so I left a message with the briefing of the issue and my address, then I grabbed my jacket and started on the walk towards work. I didn’t really realize how wary I seemed to the other people on the street.
I tried to keep myself an image of calm collectedness, but I was apparently failing, my eyes were narrowed into practically slits. I tried to tell myself that it was because of the sun glaring off the parked cars, but I felt a pit of dread in my stomach.
The killer knew where I lived… Knew who I was no less, and apparently knew which case I was doing. He seemed to have the knowledge of a higher-up in the station, but how could he have known all that? Did he have an intel in our midst? A little spy playing innocent and hiding their true nature?
But why would somebody agree to help that beast? Who would have no moral sense of right and wrong, enough so that a killer could persuade them?
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog from my mind, I was in front of the station now, and I stared up at the sign for a moment before pushing open the door with my shoulder.
The sheriff was waiting for me at the door, and he didn’t look happy.
The sheriff was a fairly short man, around 5’3”, but he was broad-shouldered. He had a short mop of chocolate brown hair, though it was hidden under the police cap, and piercing green eyes that held no room for any argument.
“You’re late, Bridgeham,” he said harshly, “got an explanation for that?”
I knew this was coming, had known that I’d have to pay for my apparent laziness. I swallowed back some saliva that was starting to fill my mouth before speaking.
“My car broke down, sir,” I said, secretly hoping he’d believe me, “I called the towing company and they didn’t answer, so I had to walk here, sir.”
The sheriff paused, seeming to consider my words, his arms folding across his chest as he looked me up and down. He knew how I acted when I lied, he had learned everybody’s signals.
After a long moment of silence he simply nodded curtly, and let me pass. I strode forwards slowly, feeling the wait of his judgemental gaze on the nape of my neck, but I tried to ignore the sensation.
“There’s somethin’ for ya’ in your office,” the sheriff suddenly said, startling me.
“S-something..?” I asked, turning slowly to look the sheriff in the eye, “What kind of something?”
I was playing with fire, asking my employer such a question, but I had to know.
“Some red-head left it for ya, he was wearing an eyepatch,” he shrugged, “Said he was a friend of yours, so I let ‘em pass.”
I let out a small sigh of relief, it had been Eddie, probably with more information about the circus. I had a feeling his confidence about opening up was starting to grow, and I was feeling proud of the progress I had made with the anxious actor.
“So… Mr. Trevor came in..” I muttered under my breath, smiling a bit, “Alright, thank you for letting me know, sir.”
I bowed slightly to the sheriff, as was my habit by now, and walked towards my office, unlocking the door with a special key on my belt.
Just as the sheriff had said, a small package lay on my desk, a dark brown parcel with only my name and the address of the station, no return address. I guess Edward wasn’t quite ready to reveal where he lived yet, but him sending me something was a major improvement.
I set my jacket on the coat rack and sat down at the desk, reaching for the parcel to open it and see what was inside. I hesitated, my fingers twitching as if to close around the package. I felt something was off, the air seemed heavier, more oppressive.
I suddenly stood up, and went to find the sheriff again.
“Sheriff?” I called out, poking my head out of my office.
The sheriff glanced over from the civilian he was speaking with at the time, and gave me a silent question.
I jerked my thumb at my desk, motioning for him to come in after the conversation, before retreating into the room again. I stared at the package, specifically at the small piece of paper that was laying crumpled under it.
The sheriff entered quietly, looking at me before looking towards the package.
“What’s up, Bridgeham?” he asked, sounding slightly annoyed by my sudden intrusion of the conversation.
I pointed at the package before looking at the sheriff with a dead-serious look in my eyes.
“Are you sure the person who brought it in was a ginger..?” I asked, dread creeping up in my voice.
“I didn’t say he was a ginger,” the sheriff shrugged, “I said he was a red-head, he had almost crimson hair.”
My heart stopped, and I could feel my stomach dropping. Inhaling sharply I snagged the package and shoved it into the trash, before looking at the sheriff in a panic.
“I don’t know a person with crimson hair, sir,” I said quickly, my voice shaking slightly.
He paused, his jaw working, as if trying to form words, but no sound came out, he stared at me with almost horror in his eyes.
I then stormed back to the desk and grabbed the paper, smoothing it out like I had for the one under my couch. On it a giant gruesome smiley face was drawn with the wording under it saying: “Run little birdie.”
I looked at the sheriff with a look of pure panic in my eyes.

My heart was pounding against my ribs, like a bird trying to escape a cage. I could feel beads of sweat starting to form at the nape of my neck.
I was glad I didn’t actually get anything to eat, I felt if I had, it would’ve simply rushed back up and made a mess. I started pacing back and forth across the office room, rubbing my temples.
The sheriff reached out to grab my shoulder to stop me, but he fell short, seeming to hesitate before letting his hand fall back to his side. He knew I was stressed, I made it very obvious in my body language.
“Jacob…” he finally spoke, giving me a pause by using my first name, “I know this is… bad. But you can’t let it get a hold of you, or your going to mess something up, and more people will die.”
I rounded on him, inhaling sharply.
“You talk of people dying!” I snapped, “You haven’t seen the carnage this murderer has wrought first-hand, you don’t know the things I’ve had to go through to try to find Edward Trevor, to get him to talk to me!”
“Bridgeham…” he said, with a warning tone in his voice, “Calm down.”
I gripped my head, my nails digging into my scalp harshly as I bent over a bit to calm down, having to avert my gaze from the sheriff.
I finally managed to compose my emotions to a presentable level, and looked back at the sheriff again.
“I apologize, sir,” I muttered under my breath, loud enough for him to hear it, “I let my emotions get the best of me, it won’t occur again.”
The sheriff gaze me a thoughtful look before nodding curtly, turning away to leave. He stepped through the door and closed it behind him, giving me some semblance of privacy, though it was short-lived.
I immediately started pacing again, my mind was running at a thousand miles an hour. I had to figure out who this stalker was, and fast. If he knew where I lived, and where I worked, this was not a good situation.
The thought that the two instances could’ve been caused by different people never occurred to me, I was too consumed on finding the person who was planning to kill Lilith, and bringing them to justice before they could actually do it.
I sat down at the desk, opening the laptop on the horizontal surface, punching in my password before opening the government directory.
I should’ve asked the sheriff for more details on the person who had entered my office that morning, simply “a guy with crimson hair,” wasn’t enough for me to figure this out. There could have been around a hundred people with that hair color.
The height would’ve been more helpful, but in my panicked state, I wasn’t even thinking about physical details.
I started sifting through a batch of files next to me, each one was a basic overview of each known actor in that circus. The ones on the top were the ones for Edward and Zachary.
I grabbed Zachary’s, cracking it open and flipping through it, finding a copy of his drivers license. He had been born in 1980, it was 2023 now, he was around 43 years old, if he survived. The picture wasn’t very helpful, having been taken 5 years ago, it held the visage of a middle-aged man with a sad smile, heterochromia, with one blue eye and the other being a bright emerald green, and blonde hair that was just long enough to scrape the lobes of his ears.
It had been said that by the time of the accident, Zach had gone blind in his left eye, and his hair had grown to the length he could easily been mistaken for a female if he hadn’t had such a masculine build.
The last time I saw one of his performances, he didn’t seem like he would kill somebody, but there was still a possibility. He was the only actor that hadn’t been accounted for in the state government, because he wasn’t a citizen of massachusetts.
Zach was originally from Lincoln, Nebraska, having moved to Massachusetts under the circus’ directory, but it had been under a different name. He had moved after, according to the newspapers, his brother had died.
Nobody knew the cause of Ezekiel’s death, Zach’s brother had died in the woods, nobody had witnessed his death, but it had harmed Zach’s psychology severely.

I found some of Zach’s old medical files, sifting through the slightly crumpled pages to find more information. Zach had a strange genetic mutation, which had caused him to grow to a staggering height most humans can’t, which had caused a lot of people to question if he even was human.
I found one with a list of medicines Zach was supposed to be taking on a daily basis, a simple ADHD medication, some anti-depressants and anti-anxiety pills, and… schizophrenia medications..?
I paused in my search, the mention of the mental illness in his medical records striking my fancy. Nobody had ever mentioned anything about Zach seeing things, or hearing things, he didn’t act like a normal person with schizophrenia. But perhaps he had managed to cope with it in other ways. Maybe he had found… friends… in the apparitions that he saw.
I checked the list again, three times even, it always said the same thing. I suppose Zach actually did have schizophrenia… I feel kind of bad now, if it were true, he had probably not been getting the help he needed for it. If the ringleader wasn’t already dead, I’d have sued them.
I checked my clock to see the time, 3:25 P.M., Wednesday March 24, 2023.
Wednesday…
I was late to the meeting with Edward.
I stood up abruptly, my chair almost tipping over with the momentum of my form surging up to a standing position. I looked at my phone and quickly strode towards the door.
Nobody tried to stop me, probably because they knew better than to interfere when I was in a bad mood. I was still going to need to walk all the way to the meeting, as my car was still totalled.


Chapter 3 – Bluejay
I shouldered the door of the cafe open, the small bell over the door ringing at the intrusion. I scanned the area of the cafe, and my eyes landed on the familiar figure of Edward Trevor sitting in a booth on the far side of the cafe.
I slowly went towards the booth, making sure to not startle Eddie, knowing his sensitivity to sudden movements or sounds. I gently tapped his shoulder, which caused him to jump a bit.
He looked up towards me, and let out a small sigh, almost in relief. He shifted his position so I could sit next to him, but I took the booth across from him.
I looked him in the eyes. Well… his one eye. I still felt bad about his missing eye, but I knew it was from a practice incident, the same one that had caused Zachary to go half blind. They had been simply practicing their knife throwing skills. Of course, Eddie took the brunt of the accident, losing his eye, and the flesh around it.
I inhaling deeply before opening my mouth to speak.
“So… Eddie..” I said, tentatively.
“Hm..?” Eddie hummed gently, looking directly at me, before glancing back down at the menu in his hands.
His hands were shaking a bit, the poor man was either low on nutrients, or I had scared him that badly. I was praying it was the first option, which could easily be fixed.
I looked at the menu at my own spot, glancing at the options: A carmel macchiato, simple mochas, the “Daily delight”...
None of them sounded appealing at the moment, so I didn’t order when the waitress came to take our order. The waitress seemed to know Eddie, as they seemed to chat like old friends. I didn’t listen to their conversation, I was too distracted by what had happened in the office.
I snapped out of the trance-like state I was in when Eddie asked me a question. I stared at him blankly, silently asking him to repeat his question.
“Are you okay, officer..?” Eddie asked again.
The question gave me a pause, a strange fuzzy feeling spreading in my chest at the fact that Eddie was actually caring about my safety or wellbeing.
I didn’t reply for a good about three minutes, before sighing a touch and speaking slowly.
“I am alright, thank you for asking though,” I knew it sounded forced, but it was all I could muster at this point.
I didn’t want him to worry too much about me, he had his own reasons to care, and I wasn’t going to push him into the whole situation. He was here to help, and then get out. Not stick around and play games.
I glanced at the waitress and shook my head, signalling I wouldn’t be getting anything.
“Are you sure you don’t want to eat, Jacob..?” Eddie asked, hesitating before looking at me directly again.

“I’m sure,” I insisted.
He sighed and looked away again, he couldn’t seem to hold a gaze for very long, and I can’t really blame him for that. He was fidgeting with the hem of his jacket, which was a dull pink color. I watched him for a moment before directing my gaze towards the newspaper on the edge of the table.
I reached for the paper and flipped it open, reading the front page. It was a report about a missing child. I read the details, my eyes narrowing.
“A young boy named Samuel Loxenbourg, age 10, has gone missing as of March 17, 2023. If anybody has seen a child with the following descriptors, please contact this number: — - — - —-.
“A height of 4’9”, with deep brown hair that goes down to the nape of his neck, blue eyes, last seen wearing a black hoodie and bluejeans, with black converse hightops.”
My heart skipped a beat, I knew this boy, he had often times been seen sneaking into the circus, and we had to drag him out multiple times. He been dubbed the circus’s little troublemaker.
He had seemed to be emotionally to the very actor that was currently missing from the bodies. Zach. Zach had always been extremely nice around him, where-as with other people, he had been snarky and rude.
It was almost as if they had been best friends since birth, the small boy next to an almost literal giant.
Eddie was staring at me, I just now realized that. I had frozen in place, staring at the newspaper. I had zoned out again… but when Eddie cleared his throat, I jumped back into reality. My eyes snapped up to meet his, and I felt bad, I had promised to dedicate this time to get to know him. Not to stare at a newspaper and get angry.
I glanced away and put the newspaper down slowly.
“Sorry…” I mumbled under my breath.
He shrugged before smiling slightly, and glanced at the wall, there were old faded pictures of people who had visited the cafe when it first had started on the wall. And that was when I realized, one of them looked a lot like Eddie, a young ginger boy with the date under it, April 3, 1996.
I looked at him again before glancing at the picture again, before pointing at the picture in a silent question. Was this him?
He nodded slowly, frowning slightly, he finally stopped messing with his jacket to look at me directly.
“That was when I was 16,” he smiled now, but it seemed forced, “Before my brother Sebastian died…”
My heart almost dropped, remembering now that Eddie was 42. He looked younger than his age, if I hadn’t known that, I would’ve guessed he was around 25.
“I’m sorry about your loss, Eddie..” I muttered quietly, my voice almost cracking with emotion.
He shrugged again, as if it didn’t matter. He didn’t seem to show any emotions, and the ones he did show seemed very much fake.
I started to worry, I wasn’t totally sure if he was okay. But it was none of my business, I shouldn’t be nosing around in his personal life. And yet, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering. I felt bad, I knew better than to be doing this..
I opened my mouth to speak when the waitress returned with the coffee Eddie had ordered. I glanced over quickly, my mind on high alert at the moment. I gave her a warning glance, but it quickly faded when I realized who she was.
I glanced at the door quickly when I heard the bell ring, but… that was weird… nobody was there. Was I going crazy? Or was I paranoid.
But Eddie had heard it too apparently, because his gaze drifted from the waitress’s smiling face towards the door, he was facing it so he could see it easier. I watched, my heart pounding against my ribcage like a trapped bird as his eye narrowed. I seemed to be waiting for something, but nothing seemed to come.
I wanted to ask if he saw something, but the words died in my throat as I started hearing footsteps, my eyes darted towards the door again, still nothing. I had never believed in ghosts before but this was pushing the limits of my psyche… I was starting to panic, this wasn’t right at all. If there wasn’t anything there, there shouldn’t be footsteps.
But what if something was there… what if I was just blind to something approaching us. I had heard stories when I was young that if you didn’t believe in something, you couldn’t see it. I had never believed that, of course. My family was Christian, even if I wasn’t really in the faith currently.
More footsteps, but they were quieter now. I looked again. Still. Nothing. I felt as if my head were spinning, and I looked towards Eddie, as if searching for reassurance. But… he was gone…?
I looked around, almost having a full on panic attack, there wasn’t anybody in the cafe. It was as if something had made everybody disappear out of the universe. But I could hear them…
I could hear the footsteps of somebody entering and leaving, I could hear Eddie’s voice. But I couldn’t hear what he was saying, the words were drowned out by a loud buzzing in my ears. It was as if I had put in sound cancelling earbuds and had turned on radio static.
I tentatively stood up from the booth, it felt like I was falling, but I wasn’t. My whole body was shaking, I glanced around again. The lights had gone red…
I had watched enough horror movies to know this wasn’t a good thing. I looked at the exit again, it was now blocked off. I started to wonder if I had passed out again, and if I was lucid dreaming. I had a tendency to either way.
I walked unsteadily towards the door, finding my footing slowly. I was breathing hard, my breath coming in sharp exhales and short inhales.
I tried the door. Locked. I looked around for another exit. There were no windows… but I could’ve sworn the place had had windows just a moment ago. Was I causing it to turn out this way, or was something else controlling my dreams?

I rammed my shoulder against the door, hoping it would splinter, instead, a burst of white-hot pain laced up my neck into my skull. I staggered back, gripping my shoulder tight enough it would probably leave bruises, but at this point I could care less. I had to get out of here.

Chapter 4 – A Murder of Crows
Time was running out. I was starting to lose my sense of self, I couldn’t find an exit, and I felt as if my sanity was slipping away like the sand in an hourglass. I ran around the cafe, searching for something, anything that would help me escape.
The clock was ticking, too loudly, and everything seemed to be getting grey. As if I was going colorblind. The room began to spin, and I heard something that sounded like… laughter. Somebody was mocking me.
No… I heard a voice in my head say, I wasn’t sure anymore if it was mine, we can’t be trapped here.
I felt watched, whipping around to see what was behind me. A blank wall. But wasn’t a hallway just there? I could’ve sworn where that empty, white wall was, I had just exited a long hallway. This wasn’t the cafe anymore, this was some sort of mystery dimension.
Something creaked up ahead, the sound of a door opening, followed by a blinding light. Something had opened up, maybe an exit. I dared to hope on this.
I squinted, one hand coming up to shade my eyes as I tried to see past the opening. I saw nothing, only a blank oval of pure-white light. Looking around, I could’ve made out the shape of the cafe table Eddie and I had just been sitting at in the waking world, but due to the light, it was impossible to make out the shape.
So I turned back to the seeming exit, and climbed through it. What was on the other side of it amazed me, it was nothing like what I had seen before.
It was a field, a giant, flowering field of daisies and violets, amidst the chaos of colors I saw small specks of yellow and black, honeybees. It was a flower gardener’s biggest dream, the kind of thing a toddler would dream of after a long ride in the country-side. It was surrounded by dark evergreen trees, creating the allusion of a sanctuary, of safety. Green, black, yellow, white and purple flashed at me any time I turned. The building I had just been in had practically melted away, leaving me stranded in a sea of color and fragrances.
There was a soft humming sound, the melody of the bees doing their busy work. It was a soothing lullaby, something that would be sung to a restless infant.
I could feel myself begin to relax, that strained tension that had seized my body mere moments ago was melting away. I felt like I was becoming pudding from the inside out. A feeling of immense relief, even if I was still in the dark of the entire moment.
I wondered now what was going on in the real world. Was Eddie worried about me? Had something else taken control of my body and was impersonating me, or did I simply faint.
I couldn’t hear voices anymore, only the soft chirping of robins and the buzzing of bees. It was as if a slice of heaven had come down to grace me with its presence. The place was… perfect, too perfect.
But I was too deep into the alluring spell of the place to even think of any possible danger.

Any sense of self-defense melted away, and I found myself losing track of time and where I was. I felt safe, something I had never thought of as a possibility before.
But I was far from out of these dark woods, unbeknownst to me, there was a blotch of black appearing in the far side of the field. But I didn’t see it, my gaze was captured by the rainbow of flowers.
It wasn’t until I heard the cawing and fighting that I tore away from the flower and glanced in the direction of the black blotch. Crows. A ton of crows had appeared.
I looked around again, trying to see where the crows could’ve come from. I didn’t see anywhere, other than the pitch-black woods surrounding the field. I felt my stomach drop, if they had come from the woods, that meant something was in there.

I took a tentative step towards the murder of the dark birds, even tried scaring them off, but they wouldn’t budge. That pit in my stomach seemed to grow, and I felt, if I had anything in my system, I might lose it.
I could hear that tiny voice in the back of my head again. Don’t go. It tried to warn me.
But once again, I felt it was leading me astray, so I ignored it, and walked up to the birds. The birds, once again, seemed to refuse to acknowledge I existed. Though they seemed to be on guard, watching for something that wasn’t there.
I felt myself involuntarily shiver at the idea of not being able to see a threat.

My hair stood on end as if I was being watched, and I found myself checking over my shoulder.
The crows were suddenly gone, a flurry of black feathers and beady eyes lifting into the sky with loud whooshing and cawing sounds. I found myself ducking to avoid getting whacked by the birds.
I whipped around to see where they were going, the murder had flown up above the trees, the frail leaves swaying at the sudden gusts from their wings. I stared at the mass of darkness flying away from my position. It looked like I was left without a choice.
Turning towards the entrance into the woods, I started towards it, my steps slow and deliberate. I pushed a branch upwards to open a way, glancing around. I wished I had a flashlight with me. It was almost impossible to see three feet ahead of myself.
I stalked forwards, shouldering branches and crawlers out of my way. A few thorns ripped through my jacket, scraping the top layer of my skin. But I ignored the pain and kept forcing myself forwards.
Coming into a clearing, I looked around, it was completely dark. Not a single bush or flower grew in the area. A minimal amount of sunlight filtered through the canopy, making beams of light on a dark, luscious grass. A few crawlers graced me with their presence, forming a bridge in the trees. I had no wish to climb the trees.
Everything seemed to grow louder, the birds’ chirping sounded like it was being blasted out of a speaker. The rustling of the leaves forming the roof over my head was the only quiet noise in the entire area.
I felt as if something was following me, filling in my footsteps. But whenever I looked behind myself, there was nothing to see. My mind must’ve been playing more tricks on me.
The forest seemed to close in, it was as if the clearing was growing smaller. The looming branches appeared to reach out to try to grab my limbs and drag me into the darkness.
I took off running, even as branches and foliage slammed against my face. One arm instinctively came up to cover my face from the attacking plants. I could hear my own heartbeat, pounding in my ears in harsh time with my footsteps.
Something was indeed following me, I heard it now, the cracking of branches overhead, a sign of aerial pursuit, or at the very least, whatever was chasing me was very good at climbing trees. I kept running, but my hope in escaping this being was slowly dying, a horrid sense of dread growing in its place.
I felt like my lungs would explode any moment now. I knew I was getting tired, a deep exhaustion setting in my limbs, but I also knew I couldn’t give up. If I died here, who knew if I would still be around in the waking world, and I wasn’t going to take that risk.
Almost instantly, I felt my feet catch on something, and I fell forwards. Catching myself with my hands, I looked up and forwards. There… the entrance to a new part of the forest, this part seemed brighter. It was like an invisible line was blocking the sunlight from reaching me.
I dragged myself forwards, my legs too weak to try to stand up. The crashing of tree limbs up above had ceased for the moment, but I only doubled my efforts.
I reached out to try to grasp a fallen log and pull myself up into a sitting position, squinting in the harsh light of the new glade.
My head tilted upwards as I tried to catch my breath. Something was watching from the trees, I could barely make out the shape of it.
It was a dark figure, the only thing very much visible was a spark of crimson red, the color of a rose. And something that looked like white porcelain. The rest of it was shadowed by the trees. The figure was crouched down on the branch, high above the ground.
I started to wonder if this creature was what had been following me. It didn’t try to come into the patch of light. The figure stood up to it’s full height, which was hard to see in the dark of the forest beyond.
The creature began to retreat, slipping into the shadows as if he had been defeated. I watched in astonishment as he disappeared into the darkness, and I felt that this encounter was long for over. This was just a small respite, a time of rest in the eternal battle.

I pushed myself up, grunting slightly as my limbs protested against the movement. I rubbed my thigh, trying to ease some of the tension in my tendons. Glancing around, I leaned back against the fallen tree once more.
I supposed I had time to spare, I wasn’t getting back to reality any time soon, and that figure was gone for now. I could explore the new area later, right now I needed to rest.
But even as I tried to close my eyes and relax, I couldn’t seem to escape into sleep. It was as if this strange area was trying to trap me fully in it. I felt like I was falling, through a sea of inky blackness. I felt like my body was not my own, as if I were simply watching things happening around me through a cage.
Something else was at the wheel, or atleast, that was what I thought. I thought, for a split moment, that I wasn’t actually real at all. Maybe I was just a creature created by somebody’s imagination. Or maybe I was dreaming this entire thing, and I was just now waking up from the never-ending nightmare.
Even as I thought these things though, I knew, my mind was tricking me. I was falling deeper and deeper into the spell of the forest. It was ensnaring my consciousness into its toxic thrall, and I was powerless to stop it.
My eyes snapped open a few moments later, having felt breathing on my face. There was nothing. My head spun, and I felt delusional.
I forced myself to stand up, ignoring the pain that blossomed in my legs as they were coerced to hold up my full weight. The figure still hadn’t returned, so I felt as if I was safe for now. I grabbed a nearby branch for support as I started to stumble into the light-blessed grove.
Every little splash of color caught my attention. There were splashes of blue and orange in the grass, multiple different types of flowers showering the floor. In the trees, apples and other fruits grew, and a few trees still had pink or white blossoms. Other trees were still a golden color, as if they had never lost their autumn beauty.
It was like nothing I had ever seen before. I flinched slightly as a doe suddenly leapt out in front of me. It didn’t seem to be afraid of me, much like the crows I had seen when I had first arrived in the area.
The doe simply pranced on, disappearing again into the envelope of trees. It was like this was a haven. A parody of the garden of Eden. A place where perhaps, mortal and fauna could live together in peace.
I smiled slightly to myself, slowing proceeding forwards. Unlike the shadowed woods, this place didn’t have low-hanging branches, and no underbrush that attacked my legs. It was like it was a blanket of protection against the darkness that constantly plagued the world.
If only it were real, I knew it wasn’t, but I wanted it to be. I wanted it to be all over the world, a sanctuary for the weak and weary, and a stronghold of those who sought to control them.
I faintly felt something vibrate in my pocket. I had barely registered the thought of possibly still having my cell-phone with me. I had believed it had disappeared along with everything else in the cafe, but I suppose not.
I reached into my pocket to pull it out, and sighed a small breath of relief when my hand closed around the rectangular device. I slid it out of my pocket and tentatively powered it on. It was at 60%.
I quickly tried to call Eddie, but I only reached voicemail. I muttered something under my breath that not even I understood.