Freak Show

freakshow.jpg

Mr Arnaldo owned a travelling show. His attractions were the bearded woman, the man with the giant foot, the monkey boy and the man with eleven fingers. They were not the interesting part, though. They had something new now. Something horrible.

The bearded woman was Mr Arnaldo’s wife, and she wasn’t really bearded. He let his beard grow, they cut it, and glued it to her face. The monkey boy, on the other hand, was real. Well, he wasn’t a monkey boy, of course, but he was very hairy. They had bought him from his parents a couple of years ago, who were happy to get rid of him. Shameful, they had been. No wonder. He didn’t like the shows much, but he was OK the rest of the time. They didn’t give him food and roof for charity, either.

These monsters were human. There wasn’t really any doubt about it. But the fifth one was… different. Dark. There was something behind its red, glowing eyes. In the shadows that surrounded it. They hadn’t let it out of the cage.

It was perfect. Arnaldo was going to be famous.

Today it would be shown for the first time. They had sold out all the tickets.

Come and see our horrible freaks! The man with the giant foot! The Monkey boy! The eleven fingered troll! And the beautiful bearded woman!

Loud applause from the public.

The four of them walked around for a while. People applauding, having fun. Shouting things. Ugly things. Dirty things.

But, my dear spectators… This is nothing. He made a pause. -We have something you’ve never seen before!

In the centre of the stage there was a cube with a clothing over it.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the big attraction! You think what you seen until now is disgusting? You think they are horrendous monsters? Behold, a creature of darknesss. A demon of burning hells. The horrible! The Evil! Rangooooorrrr!

He pulled the cloth off. Inside they saw something moving. Something dark, like a shadow, darkness moving around where light should enter. It was moving back and forth, as in fear. Fear of the light. Fear of the people. Hatred. They could catch a glimpse of a face. A horrible, evil face. A sigh of astonishment went through the crowd.

Amazing… Horrendous….  They whispered, they were to shocked to shout. Then someone started applauding. Everyone soon followed.

Fantastic! Amazing! Hurray!

Mr Arnaldo was bowing to the applause. This was his great moment. From here everything was going to change.

People stopped clapping. Too soon, he thought. He looked at them. At their faces. They looked scared. They were not looking at him. They weren’t looking at the cage. They were looking behind him.

He slowly turned around. The dark creature was no longer inside its cage. It was standing there, watching him. Arnaldo screamed in terror. The crowd understood this was not part of the show.

Panic broke out. People started running away, but the creature was everywhere. They were ripped to pieces by the dark shadows flowing around them.

Mr Arnaldo was paralysed. He wanted to move, to run. He couldn’t. He watched as his costumers were all murdered. Gutted. Flawed.

A bloodbath.

The creature turned towards Arnaldo. Moved slowly towards the scene.

Please… Arnaldo sunk to his knees, shaking, crying.

It lifted him up. He screamed as his body slowly dissolved into little, dark flying creeps, disappearing in the air as they flew away, disappearing with the monster.

It was over.

A hairy little boy, a man with a giant foot, and another with eleven fingers stood watching the bodies in front of the scene.

I guess we’re unemployed, Maxmillian the six fingered man said after a while.

I guess we are, said Jack the clump foot thoughtful. He shrugged. -There are better jobs.

Maxmillian looked towards the village. -There should be, he said. There couldn’t be much people left.

https://thingssaidanddone.wordpress.com/2010/09/26/strange-and-bizarre-the-history-of-freak-shows/

https://www.fictionpress.com/s/2969551/1/Freakshow

Liquid Ink

48 Comments

  1. As I read this.. I couldn’t help think of The Elephant Man but with less sensitivity and sophistication uniqueness may bring. Revenge sure must have tasted riper than a banana for our creature here, being caged and gawked at. Theres no buisness like show buisness as the song plays out.

    I really do enjoy seeing your artwork..do you use watercolours? It looks marvellous.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Nice artwork. I really enjoyed your story. It was creepy and suspenseful. I’m curious, how did Mr. Arnaldo acquire his latest creature?

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Well, he seems to have trapped it somewhere, in an old house I think was what I ended up with. I was thinking if him having met an old man who summoned it, but Mr Arnaldo is a simple man. If he can trap it or buy it it’s his, he does not go much further;) On the other hand, it might have been summoned at some earlier point from unknown dimensions.

      Liked by 2 people

  3. “They were not looking at him. They were looking behind him.”
    – At this part, I whispered, “Oh boy.”
    “This is not good for business.”
    – Hahaha, this is funny.
    So the bearded woman died too? I guess she doesn’t count as a “freak” since the beard hair was only glued to her. Interesting turn of events. Sweet revenge was served. Nice tale!

    Liked by 2 people

      1. You’re welcome. Ah, yeah. Taking revenge on his captors and those enjoying themselves at its expense. Don’t mind, but I think it’s *customers, if you mean the ones who buy stuff from someone. Was a nice read though. Thanks for writing it!

        Liked by 1 person

  4. An intriguing story that kept me engrossed right to the end. Freaky, creepy and funny all mingled together. A nice bit of suspense, too, when the creature is behind Mr Arnaldo – who got just what he deserved in my opinion. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Pingback: Freak Show – SEO
  6. The Phantasmagoria is strange ….an occult magic realism. There’s a dark humor inherent in the characters. Are they the dark archetypes of our own selves? Quite Jungian and Borgesian touch. Anand Bose from Kerala

    Liked by 3 people

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