“And you trust her?” Klaws heard a voice say.
“Of course!” a second voice said. It belonged to a man, whereas the first had been a woman’s. Neither of them sounded like pleasant customers, Klaws thought as he moved closer still.
When both people came into plain view, he could see it was a pair of clowns holding a conversation, and it was indeed a man and a woman. The man was huge – mountain huge – and dwarfed the fragile-looking female. Looking at them, Klaws just knew they were dangerous.
The woman looked feral, even though smudged make-up hid her face. Her eyes looked tired and wild – her hair, much like her clothes, was unkempt. He couldn’t tell what the male clown looked like, as he had his back to him.
“Are you sure, Tickles?” she asked the man, who was right up close to her. He towered over her – hid her in his shadow.
“Yes, damn it!”
“Sorry!” The woman whimpered, cowering away slightly.
“You dare question your master?!” he shouted, raising his hand but not striking.
What a fucking strange pair! Klaws thought, watching them from the shadows.
“No, master. Please!”
The man-clown lowered his hand. “Good, because you know what happens when you question my authority!” he barked at her.
“Yes!” she said, getting to her knees. When she got down on the ground, Klaws noticed the woman had a collar around her throat, and the man was holding a lead.
“Have you checked on Nightshade this morning?”
She shook her head. Klaws heard the rattle of chain.
“Don’t you think you should?” he demanded, unwrapping the chain from around his hand to allow the woman room for manoeuvring.
Klaws watched as the woman crawled across the hay-scattered floor – she headed off into the shadows, which were well beyond her master. Her destination appeared to be a large cage. When she reached it, she grabbed the bars and pulled herself to her feet.
“Nightshade!” she called, her tone seductive. “Wakey-wakey!”
What in the hell do they keep in that cage? Klaws thought as he watched on in amazement. I’ve stumbled upon a right naughty pair here…
When no answer or movement came from within the cage, the female clown picked up a tin cup and ran it back and forth along the bars, creating the most horrendous noise.
“Necrotic!” Tickles yelled. “Stop that incessant noise, woman!” He then pulled on the chain hard, causing Necrotic to choke, and then sniggered.
She raked the bars a few more times just to piss him off the little bit more.
The chain was pulled taut once again; more choking sounds ensued.
“Enough!” he barked.
“Okay, okay, master!” she said.
When a sound came from within the cage, Klaws moved closer, but still kept himself hidden behind boxes in the shadows.
A dark, standing figure moved to the bars and looked down on Necrotic. “Yes?!” came the voice. It sounded husky from where Klaws hid.
“Time for breakfast,” Tickles bellowed.
“Is it night time?” the new voice asked.
“No, Nightshade, it’s early morning.”
“Then why wake me?” Nightshade asked.
Necrotic giggled. “You’re funny!”
“You never left the tent last night. You must be starving!” Tickles said.
“Hmm, the last time I checked, I was able to take care of myself, Tickles.”
“Oh, is that so?!” he asked, turning to face the cage. As he did, Klaws tried to get a better look of the man, who was starting to remind him of someone he once knew…but it couldn’t be, could it?
The woman in the cage also seemed fearful of the giant clown, as she backed away from the bars slightly. “Yes, I can! I lived on the streets for decades before you found me! But I am most grateful that you took me in. That you care and worry about me as you do.”
“Good. Here, eat this,” he ordered, then opened her cage door and placed a steel bucket inside. The handle made a clanging noise as it struck the side of the bucket.
I’m sure I’ve read about this pair! Klaws said. Years ago, when I was in the asylum. There was a book…What was it called? His memory was nothing more than a foggy colander, and netting memories was a very hard thing to do, so he had never really tried until now.
Think, damn it. Think! He scolded himself. I’m sure I know them. Him, definitely. If only he would turn around, Klaws thought.
Whatever was in the bucket, it made soft squishing sounds as Nightshade put her hands into it. As she lifted her hands to her face, tearing and slurping sounds ensued, which stood only to heighten Klaws’ growing curiosity. “What the fuck?”
“Can I have some?” Necrotic asked as she pawed at the bars like a kitty cat. Klaws expected the woman to start meowing, but she didn’t, much to his disappointment.
“Of course!” Nightshade said, bending down to Necrotic. She slipped her hand out of the bucket and filled the other woman’s mouth – even though the light was poor, Klaws could see that the woman’s hands were drenched in blood. Chunks of God knows what clung to her flesh and fingers, but not after they’d been placed in Necrotic’s mouth – she seemed to suck and lick them clean.
“Jesus!” Klaws whispered. As he went to duck down further in the shadows to make his retreat, a screwdriver, which had been on top of one of the boxes he was hidden behind, hit the floor.
“Shit!” he said, then ducked out of sight.
When the clown turned around, Klaws’ heart raced. “No, it can’t be!” he gasped.
Mr. Tickles growled on hearing the noise behind him. He narrowed his eyes, turned and exposed his needle-like teeth. Shuffling off the ground, Necrotic got into a standing position and stood by her master’s side – she held handfuls of gathered chain, which she held close to her body.
Nightshade turned from her bucket of slop and looked out her bars.
“Do you sense a presence?” he asked the woman.
“Yes, Mr. Tickles,” Nightshade said.
Somewhere off to their right, Custard squawked.
“Me too,” Necrotic said.
“Who’s there?!” he demanded. “If I happen to find anyone trespassing, it’ll be instant death!”
Nothing. Everything was silent within Mr. Tickles’ home. Not convinced, he stepped forward. Necrotic followed close behind, with Nightshade now stepping out of her cage and onto the top step of her ladder down to the ground. Her heels made slight clanging sounds as she did so.
“Well? Show yourself!” Mr. Tickles said. “If you damn children have snuck in here again, I’ll bloody drown you. Little fucking shits!”
With both women now at his side, Mr. Tickles moved forward again. They all stuck close together, as any unknown dangers could be lurking – they’d had trouble in the past.
“If you’re not going to come out, we’re going to come in!” Mr. Tickles said, causing both women to laugh.
All three of them stopped in their tracks when a large figure stepped out of the shadows. Only the bottom half of his legs could be seen – the rest of the unknown was hidden. “I wouldn’t want you to do that!” came a low voice from the shadows.
A gasp escaped Necrotic.
“Who are you and what are you doing back here?!” Mr. Tickles asked. “If you don’t start supplying me with answers, I’m going to let these two lovelies loose on your fucking arse!”
The shadowy figured laughed. “Do you really think that pair could stop me? Come now. If you think that, then you are crazier than I thought!”
“Who are you?” Mr. Tickles asked, his tone becoming harsh.
“If you don’t know that, then I’m certainly not going to tell you. Did you honestly think you could hide from me here?” the man asked.
“Hide from you? What the fuck are you going on about?!” Mr. Tickles could feel the control on his temper being lost.
A clicking sound to his left told him Necrotic had engaged the bl
ade on her flick knife. She was ready to take whomever this was down.
“Yes, hide. There’s no need to be shy around your associates – you know I’ve been trying to track you down to kill you for years. I must admit, I like your new disguise. You’ve given up on Christmas, I take it?”
“What? What are you on about?!” Mr. Tickles asked again, more puzzled than annoyed. “I think you have the wrong man!”
“Oh, that’s what I thought at first, but then I saw your earring.”
Mr. Tickles put a hand to the cutlass pendant. “And?!” he snapped.
“I have one. It’s exactly the same,” the man in the shadows said, all matter-of-factly.
“Look, dickhead. I’m sure many people have—”
“Oh, definitely not. You see, our mother gave them to us when we were very young, brother,” Klaws said, stepping out of the shadows.
“Huh!” Mr. Tickles gasped and took a step back. “It can’t be!”
“That’s what I thought, on seeing you, bro. I didn’t think it was possible – the last time I saw you, you were flying around the place delivering presents. Why a circus?”
“I have no idea what you mean – I was told you were dead. That you died years and years ago…!”
“This man is your brother?!” Necrotic said. “You told me you didn’t have family. That you were an only child…”
“Oh, he did, did he? You have no idea that this man is Father Christmas?”
“What are you talking about?!” Mr. Tickles asked. “I’ve always been in the circus. You should know – you helped me run away from home. Some time after I’d left, I’d heard you’d been admitted into hospital. You killed our parents!”
“I think you are the one confused, brother. I’m Klaws, the darker version of Christmas!”
“I say we kill this fucking nutcase!” Nightshade said.
“No! He’s my brother. I can’t go killing him…”
Klaws stepped farther out of the darkness. “Now I know why I felt so drawn to this place. You were hiding here. I should have known.”
“Look, you’ve got it wrong. I’ve never been hiding from you – I ran away from home when we were teenagers. I wanted you to come with me, but you didn’t want to. You were close to Mam and Dad.”
Klaws growled. “I’m not sure what lies you think you’re spinning, brother. But today is Christmas Day, and you’re going to die!” he shouted, moving forward.
“It’s fucking June!” Mr. Tickles said. “You never were all there as a child. I spent years trying to forget about you. Years!”
“Years avoiding me, you mean.”
“You’re fucking crazy!”
“Ho-ho-ho! I’ve never been clearer of mind.”
“Are you behind the letter?” Mr. Tickles asked. “Is it you that’s dragging me up to that mansion this evening?”
“You also had a letter?” Klaws asked, stopping dead.
“Yes…Wait a minute, it said in the letter there would be people there I’d be interested in seeing…” He saw the way in which Klaws’ face took on a mystified look. He was probably thinking the same thing.
“Mine too…”
“Then we set on each other?”
“Are you calling an alliance?” Klaws asked.
Looking at the two women, Mr. Tickles thought about it. “I suppose I am.”
“I’m happy to call a truce until tonight,” Klaws said. “After tonight’s over, and we know what’s what, we go back to being enemies.”
Mr. Tickles put his hand out – he didn’t want to argue any further. If he did, then someone was going to die, and he’d rather it be his brother. Tonight, when Klaws least expected it, he would bushwhack him. Maybe he could enlist the help of Crystal, along with the girls.
Klaws shook the offered hand. “A truce until tonight!” he said.
“Until tonight,” Mr. Tickles repeated.
This was met by a nod of a head as Klaws backed out of the tent. When he’d disappeared through the canvas opening, Mr. Tickles rushed over to it, only to find his brother had gone.
“I can’t believe it, after all these years…” he mouthed, unable to form any kind of thought pattern. It was becoming clearer and clearer what those letters were about, especially knowing Crystal had a sister heading into town. “I should have made the connection then!”
Shaking his head as he looked out across the fairground, Mr. Tickles had a sinking feeling ahead of tonight – he was sure it was going to be a killer party!
LATER THAT DAY…
“Don’t you think it’s about time we got up, Harry?”
“You can if you want – I may just lay here and rub my cock a bit more,” he said.
“Don’t you think you’ve had that thing played with enough this morning?”
“There’s always room for more!”
“Ha-ha, you tickle me. Well, I’m going to get dressed and pop down to the shop.”
“Why the fuck would you want to do that?” Rolling over, Harry grabbed a cigar off the bedside cabinet. He stuck it in his mouth and lit it. “When you could stay here, and fuck me some more?”
“Tut! Behave, will you? I was going to get a few things ahead of tonight.”
“Such as?”
“Well, if you must know, I’ve run out of a few make-up products. I was also going to get a paper – I want to know if anything else has been said about the escape.”
“Umm, good idea.” After taking several drags on his fat cigar, Harry blew a stream of smoke out of his mouth. “Don’t be long!” he told her.
“I’ll try not to be. But first, I’m going to take another shower – you’ve made quite the mess of me, Harry!”
Once she was finished in the bathroom, Crystal threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Harry had fallen back to sleep, which made it easier for her to leave. Grabbing her bag and room key off the dressing table, she made her way out to the hallway.
Seeing that the coast was clear, Crystal walked over to the bank of lifts and pushed the button found there. It called one of the lifts down from the floor above. When it arrived, she stepped inside and rode it to the bottom floor.
“Hello!” the woman behind the reception desk said to Crystal, who looked at the woman and gave her a smile.
Getting out onto the street, Crystal took in a few deep breaths before turning left and walking down the sidewalk. It took her less than fifteen minutes to get to the town, which was crowded with shoppers, screaming children, old people and teenagers.
“Ugh, I hate town on the weekends,” she uttered, and then proceeded to push past people. Her destination was the newsagent’s, which was situated towards the middle of the street.
People pushing prams are the worst, Crystal thought as busy mothers rushed past and around her. The ones coming from behind managed to clip her heel, whilst the ones coming towards her barged her out of the way. None of them said sorry, nor were they upset with their actions, which riled Crystal further.
“An ‘excuse me’ would have been nice!” Crystal yelled after one of them. But her words were completely ignored, causing her to utter, “Fucking bitch!”
Pressing on, Crystal made it to the shop without any more drama. Getting inside, she noticed the newsagent’s was small and empty. A ceiling fan whirred above her, cooling the area.
“Aw, that feels so damn nice!” she said aloud. The rushing air held her to the spot, causing her to throw her head back. This allowed the icy breeze down her top, which chilled her – her flesh prickled.
“Excuse me!” a man said from behind her.
“Why, what have you done?” she asked, not turning to look at him.
“You’re blocking the way, madam!” he said, raising his voice.
“Oh, and that would never do!” she said.
Huffing, he pushed past her.
“Hey, watch it, you old bastard!”
“Please! No arguing in shop,” the shopkeeper called.
“Hold on to your turban, Apu!” C
rystal said. “I’m the one being pushed!” The shopkeeper didn’t respond to her racial slur, nor did the man respond to her awkwardness. “Bastards!” she spat, going to the paper rack. She picked up a copy of a local rag, as all the big newspapers had sold out.
After picking up a few more items, Crystal went to the counter to pay – the fella who had been rude to her in the doorway was turning to leave, and so he gave her a scowl.
“Watch the wind doesn’t change, mate, or your face will stay stuck like that!” she said, giggling. He muttered something under his breath, which Crystal couldn’t quite make out. “Yeah, keep walking, big man.”
“Next, please!” the shopkeeper said.
Placing her things on the counter, Crystal rounded on him next. “You could have stuck up for a lady, you know? Are there any gentlemen left in the world?!”
“Please, please!” he said. “No trouble. Pay and leave!”
“Oh, I’m going, don’t you worry!” Slamming her money down on the counter, she didn’t bother waiting for her change before storming back out into the crowded street. She was glad to be out of there.
“Bloody sexists!” she muttered, causing a passer-by to look at her in a strange way. “Yeah, and what the hell are you looking at?” she asked the teen mother. “Shouldn’t you be at home, knocking another one out?!” She glared at the girl, who walked on as quickly as possible.
Enraged, Crystal marched to the top of the street, and elbowed and shoved as she went. A few people called after her, but she ignored them. Once at the top of the street, Crystal turned left and headed back to the hotel.
Soon, the huge building came into sight. The hotel kind of reminded her of the Overlook from The Shining; it was big and domineering, looming over the seafront. “So beautiful!” she whispered. “I wish Harry and I ran something like this. That would be nice. Give up all this acting and entertaining shite.”
Getting to the lobby, she called a lift. Maybe I could convince him to start a business with me? Save some cash as planned, but put it into a seaside business instead of taking the show to London? Sounds good, but I’m not sure Harry will go for it.
Escapees and Fevered Minds Page 10
