The Circus Infinitus Stories Volume 1

by Ethan Somerville

  “Why do we always get the boring jobs?” Pumpkin Jack complained.

  “It’s better than languishing in the Immaterium,” the Underfiend growled. “Be glad we’re not still stuck there!”

  X’s repeated struggles eventually shook the stupefied clowns awake. Fortunately none of the guards noticed the new intelligence leap into the strong man’s eyes as the symbionts’ minds joined his own. He stopped wriggling and tried to figure another way. He was very strong, but the thick chains held him fast. He couldn’t gain any leverage.

  Although befuddled, the clowns soon learned what had happened from X’s vague memories. They realized they were trapped – the chains were securely wrapped around the strongman’s enormous middle, holding his belly closed. They argued for a while, communicating via a crude form of telepathy, then Shirley pointed out another route.

  “You must be joking!” the others exclaimed.

  “No, the chains don’t cross that part of his body. So long X is facing the guards, one of us could squeeze out and maybe sneak away.”

  “’Squeeze out?’” cried Warpo. “Do you realise what you’re saying, Shirley?”

  “Has anyone got a better idea? We can’t let a priest examine X’s mind – he’ll discover all the Circus’ secrets and learn that we’re zombies!”

  ‘Alright – so who is going to be the turd?” asked Freako.

  “I’ll do it, since the rest of you are so squeamish!” Shirley disconnected herself from her intestine, then squeezed into it. “Come on X - get those peristaltic muscles moving!”

  It was a very long, arduous journey, but X had very roomy bowels, and had passed objects far larger than Shirley. X made sure he was hanging facing the guards. Fortunately, all six watchers had congregated in one corner, where Jersey and Pumpkinhead were trying to entice the eunuchs into a game of cards to pass the time. Only the Underfiend was actively watching X, and wondering why he had such a strained expression on his face. But he didn’t see the two-foot tall clown push her way out from between the strongman’s huge buttocks.

  Even though she didn’t need to breathe, she decided that she never wanted to go through that particular exercise again. At least now I can honestly say I feel like shit, she thought as she carefully crawled down the chains cries-crossing X’s back. It took all her effort to keep hidden from view.

  “What is that smell?” complained one of the Monocle’s eunuchs. “It stinks like one of Satan’s own farts in here!”

  Definitely need a bath after this, Shirley decided as she waited for the Underfiend to turn. Fortunately he did to berate the eunuch for his complaining. Shirley dropped to the floor as quietly as she could and bolted for the door. The IntelliGent had left it slightly ajar, and the tiny clown was able to escape into the alley outside. Now all I need is to find my way back to the Circus and get help, she thought as she scuttled down the narrow, deserted laneway. Her little legs couldn’t carry her very fast across the uneven cobbles, and she tripped, falling into a ditch with a splash.

  Someone had dumped a pile of rags nearby, and Shirley grabbed them to dry herself, then cover her nudity. She didn’t smell much sweeter, but at least the torn, patched cloth would keep people from staring … too much. After all, how many two-foot tall dwarves were there in London?

  As Shirley picked her way out of the mazy Limehouse alleys they streets grew more and more crowded until she was in real danger of being trampled beneath heavy boots and hooves. She managed to leap onto the back of a cart and ride for several hundred yards before the carter noticed her tiny, ragged body and threw her off. Somehow she managed to make it back to Hyde Park in under two hours, her small size enabling her to hitch several more lifts along the way. Exhausted, hungry enough to eat a horse, Shirley the clown stumbled into the Big Top searching for someone – anyone who could help.

  She found Professor Abbacus down on his stage, tinkering with his machinery, prepping it for the afternoon show. He was surprised to see her on her own, and curious to hear her story, so he didn’t immediately tell her to get lost. “What trouble have you clowns gotten yourself into this time?”

  She spluttered out her story.

  “You damn opium-eaters! If we have to run because of you, and lose the biggest damn fortune we’ve ever made, I’ll stuff you all back into the Immortality Machine and hit reverse! Find Victoria – she’s the Vampiress today – and take the Automotivator. It’s parked behind the chimneys. Hurry!” he pointed towards the staff exit.

  “Thank you Professor!” Shirley scuttled out. A loud string of curse words followed her.

  Shirley raced over to Victoria’s tent, which was black. As the Vampiress, Victoria couldn’t go out in daylight, so she waited impatiently within the darkness for sunset. Shirley blurted out her story, and the tall, thin woman with the long, jet-black hair stared in surprise. “I would dearly love to help, but I cannot go out. I will turn to dust.”

  “Can you cover up and run as far as the Automotivator?”

  “I can, but I will not be able to drive. I will have to stay covered in the back.”

  “Well, I certainly can’t drive! I have to stand on the seat just to see out of the front window!”

  The Vampiress snapped her fingers. “Fetch Bus Boy and Steam Saw – they know!”

  Shirley ran off, keenly aware that time was fast running out. Fortunately Bus Boy and Steam Saw were loitering near the Funhouse, in plain view. She blurted out her tale for the third time, and they were only too happy to help. They piled into the Automotivator, a four-wheeled contraption with an internal combustion engine and a great funnel sticking out the front, then drove to Victoria’s tent to collect her.

  Such devices were not yet common on the streets of London, and people bolted out of the machine’s way. Some gaped in surprise, others in horror, thinking it some sort of monstrous, smoke-belching dragon. Still others realized that it must have come from that bizarre circus, since the man behind the wheel was wearing some sort of long-nosed mask and pith helmet.

  Shirley waited with Victoria on the back seat. The Vampiress stayed under a thick velvet cloak, but even within the machine she could feel the day’s heat searing in and burning her alabaster skin. She wasn’t sure how long she would last, and already a dreadful thirst was crawling up her throat, demanding satiation.

  With Bus Boy bellowing out directions and generally being a backseat driver, they tore through the busy streets, narrowly missing dogs, chickens, pigs and small children. They took side-streets and bounced across the uneven cobbles at a dangerous rate, the steel wheels screeching alarmingly and sending sparks flying everywhere. The Automotivator’s occupants were bounced around like grains of rice in a rattle. Shirley and Victoria cursed. Bus Boy whooped and called out things like “Turn here! No, no – the turn we just past! Left – left – no, your other left!” Steam Saw, who couldn’t speak, remained silent but really wanted to throttle his companion.

  They made it back in record time. The alley was deserted. Were they even still here? Everyone jumped out, including Victoria. Holding her cloak high above her head, she surged towards the door and blissful darkness.

  Her dramatic arrival started the Monocle’s 3 eunuchs and the Immaterium Imps out of their seats. Coming from a realm of darkness themselves, the imps immediately recognized the snarling black apparition for what it was. Jersey led the charge towards a boarded-up window opposite the front door, but bounced off ineffectually. It was the powerful Underfiend who ripped off the boards and dived through first. Jersey followed and Pumpkinhead scrambled clumsily after.

  But the Vampiress wasn’t interested in the Immaterium Imps. Despite their human forms, their blood was thin and useless to her. She advanced on the eunuchs, who were backing towards the window after the imps. They knew Victoria was something more than human, but were confident their brute strength would save them.

  But in this form, Victoria was at her strongest. She swatted their fists aside with ease, hurling two eunuchs across the room so
hard they slid to the floor, stunned. Then she took the last and enveloped him in her black velvet cloak, concealing him from the others’ view. But they didn’t need to see. They all heard the excited slurping noises as she drank his blood.

  Bus Boy, Steam Saw and Shirley rushed over to X and began pulling the chains from his body. The big man’s eyes filled with gratitude, and as soon as he was free he enveloped the carnies in an enormous bearhug. Then he squeezed Shirley too him. “He says ‘thanks’!” she gasped.

  “I think he caved some of my ribs in,” Bus Boy moaned.

  When X dropped Shirley, she ran over to Victoria. “I hate to break up the feast, but we have to go before the Monocle and the Big Brain come with that priest.”

  That got Victoria’s attention. She looked up, wide-eyed, blood surrounding her lips. “Did you say priest?” Grabbing her cloak, she shot to her feet and hurtled for the exit.

  Unfortunately they couldn’t squeeze X into the Automotivator. He was simply far too big. But X had another solution, and easily scooped up the machine, occupants and all, and carried it back to the Circus Infinitus at a run.

  Not ten minutes later the IntelliGent and his unwilling ally the Monocle returned with Bishop Paul Victoris of the Stigmata in tow. The priest was in full ceremonial regalia, cross in hand. He marched into the dirty old warehouse and immediately smelled the unholy taint of vampire. But the undead creature, and the being he was supposed to interrogate, were long gone. Only the stunned bodies of his eunuchs remained; one badly injured and losing blood. The bishop’s bushy brows collided above his bulbous nose in anger and he roared in fury.

  White-faced, the Monocle turned to the IntelliGent, who looked slightly annoyed. “You realise that vile Circus has just declared war, don’t you?”

  The Haunted Funhouse

  Like the Circus’s other out-buildings, the Haunted House was connected to the Big Top by a thick cable that snaked across the grass. On the outside the Haunted House resembled a lopsided medieval dwelling in the half-timbered Tudor style, its upper stories larger than its lower ones. It had crooked, blacked-out windows, flaking walls and ominous sounds emanated from its wide open door. Above the lintel was a sign in old Gothic writing that said; “abandon hope all ye who enter here”.

  A grinning, gap-toothed carnie stood outside with his hand out, taking pennies from all who refused to heed the warning. Which was pretty much everybody.

  People laughed nervously as they went inside, expecting to be menaced by men and women in bad costumes, shrieking and brandishing crude wooden weapons. What they found, after they had picked their way up the narrow, creaking stairway to the top floor, was another world entirely.

  Forced to follow dark, winding corridors through the house, the captive audience first passed through a room full of grinning skulls on shelves. This wouldn’t have been so bad if they hadn’t all been laughing maniacally and yelling out personal insults! Sturdier patrons convinced themselves the skulls were all connected to wires, operated by a hidden carnie.

  Then the patrons shuffled through a large sitting room where zombies rose from their chairs, draping bandages from rotting limbs as they shuffled across the floor. If they were wearing greasepaint, it had been extremely well applied. Those gaping wounds and protruding bones looked nauseatingly genuine. Patrons screamed as cold fingers brushed across their faces, and rasping voices called out “brains, brains – need brains!” A severed head, hung up by the hair, bellowed incoherently from a corner. One woman, dressed only in a thin shift, was covered with scars, and her companion, similarly clad, had grotesque bony spikes growing from her head, shoulders and arms. Somehow the visitors managed to elude the clumsy creatures’ grasps and stumble from the room. Some were laughing weakly.

  The route through the house took the customers down a creaking corridor lit only by a single candle. A snaggle-toothed witch armed with a broom burst from a room at the end, demanding ingredients for her potion. “I’m out of bat’s blood! I need some bat’s blood!” A woman screamed, then the crowd behind her pushed her forward and everyone nearly fell over each other into another room. This appeared to be an ancient ballroom filled with dust and cobwebs. It contained skeletons still dressed in ancient finery, dancing in endless circles to the sound of a discordant phonograph. Suddenly, a ghost appeared, howling in eternal agony, and wafted right through a member of the audience! He screamed even louder than the woman who’d been menaced by the witch. Other ghosts followed, and people began to yell and duck as they scrambled across the room. The ghosts were icy cold!

  More stairs took the patrons down, forcing them through a mad scientist’s laboratory where strange potions hissed and bubbled, and a Frankenstein monster writhed and moaned, shackled to a large wooden bench. Sparks sizzled and crackled around its body. A wizened man with straggly hair rushed up to the visitors, demanding parts for his experiment. “An arm, an arm! I only need an arm! Come on, surely one of you can give up an arm?”

  “Oh my goodness, I think I’m going to faint!” someone gasped.

  “Well, don’t do it in here! You’ll end up as an exhibit!”

  On the ground floor the visitors startled a vampire, just about to feed on the lily-white throat of a helpless woman chained to a sacrificial altar. She screamed “Help, murder! Save me, save me!” as the vampire hissed and floated right up into the air, soaring across the vault towards the group. People scrambled over each other to get out of his way. Then candles burst into flame all around them, revealing a dozen coffins that slowly creaked open to reveal more undead. They climbed from their graves with clawed fingers outstretched, fangs gleaming, hungering for blood.

  Even the most stalwart of the visitors began to feel that something wasn’t right. These creatures looked just too real!

  Then a black-robed priest appeared, brandishing a cross. “Back to your beds, you fiends!” he thundered, and the undead retreated, snarling in fury. He freed the girl from the altar and escorted her out the way he had come. The visitors sighed with relief. What a good show! They emerged, blinking, into daylight from a doorway out the back, and most wanted to go back in again!

  At the end of the day, after the last of the house’s visitors had been scared out, the occupants gathered in the ground floor vault.

  “What a day! I think we made forty pounds!” exclaimed the gap-toothed carnie, whose name was Ralph.

  “Alright for you Ralph, all you have to do is stand there and accept money!” growled the girl with the scars. Her name was Masochi. “I’m so sick of shuffling around calling for brains. What I wouldn’t give for a nice, juicy steak.”

  “And all that dust upstairs is making me sick!” exclaimed her bony twin, Sadi. “Just once I wish the Ringmaster would let us clean out the place!”

  The witch removed her mask, revealing a scabby, bald head with only a few hairs still straggling from it. She had only one eye and a gaping hole in her cheek through which her teeth could be seen. Her name was Ethel. “I’m off to the Big Top for a pint. Anyone care to join me?”

  “No, I need to clean up,” said the priest, also removing a mask and revealing himself to be a zombie. “Someone threw up in the vault again.”

  “Masochi and I will come with you,” said Sadi.

  “Me too,” said the mad scientist, a zombie named Fergus. “Don’t forget to put the cat out before you go to bed.”

  Maximum Terror

  Not far from the Haunted House was a large red and black striped tent with another grinning carnie positioned beside the entrance, hand outstretched for money. The opening was flanked by two painted plaster columns, and the lintel above was marked with Gothic writing that said; “Maze of Mirrors – don’t look too closely, or you might see into your own soul!”

  “Only a penny, only a penny!” called the carnie.

  A velvet curtain covered the opening. Eager to experience everything this bizarre Circus had to offer, patrons quickly handed over their coins. A queue formed as the carnie only allowed one perso
n through at a time.

  Directly behind the curtain hung a mirror showing only the reflection of the person standing before it. There didn’t appear to be anywhere else for him or her to go. But when the patron reached out to touch the glass, he felt nothing. Then a rushing wind grabbed hold of him, yanking him forward, right through his own image. Sometimes, if the patron took too long or stared too hard, the carnie would kick him through the curtain, sending him flying into darkness.

  Beyond, illuminated by a strange, unearthly light, lay the Maze of Mirrors, a dimension of shimmering glass that shifted and changed, never appearing the same way twice. People who tried to remember the way they had come soon became hopelessly lost. Others were content to blunder through until somehow they found their way out, emerging from the opposite side to the entrance. After someone was caught in the Maze for six hours, the Professor had set a time-limit. Now the Maze automatically ejected people after a maximum of only ten minutes.

  The mirrors also changed their reflections, distorting people to bizarre parodies of themselves. Children saw themselves with clownish heads, fat bodies, spindly legs and spidery arms. They shrieked with laughter. Grownups caught fleeting glimpses of how they wanted to see themselves, but with sinister twists that often reflected the hidden desires in their hearts. The plain woman who wanted to be beautiful saw herself as such – but without a stitch of clothing on. The fat man who wanted to be slim and muscular became so – but as a woman, not a man. The skinny young man who wanted to be big and brawny gaped at the sight of himself covered with hair like a monkey.

  Today Wilkie, who was on Mirror Maze duty, noticed patrons running from the exit at the back of the tent, shrieking and waving their arms in terror. Usually they stumbled out, laughing hysterically. Something was wrong. Calling over Bus Boy and Steam Saw, who happened to be loitering nearby, he asked them to mind the entrance while he went to investigate. The place was supposed to be scary, but not enough to cause permanent mental damage!