CarnEvil
Pride. Wrath. Gluttony. Lust. Sloth. Greed. Envy.
Chapter One
Hide and Seek
We arrived in the cemetery around four o'clock, stepping off the grumbling school bus into the crisp fall air. I wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck, pulled my hat further over my ears, and blew into my gloved hands.
"Are you alright?" My teacher, Mr. Cainson asked. His dark eyes were full of concern.
I stared up at him and nodded. "Yes," I said, bending my head again so my hair fell like a curtain over my face.
"Good," he said, patting my shoulder gently and walking with me toward the slabs of gray stone.
My classmates followed behind us, walking amongst the bare trees and chattering about what they were doing over the weekend. This field trip held no significance for them. I blew on my hands again, which were steadily growing colder. White puffs of breath followed me as I walked over rocks and stepped into leaves. My father was not buried here, I remembered, but the memories were strong.
The field trip was to a cemetery in order to learn about urban legends. Why we had chosen this particular one, I had no idea, but my teacher directed the trip every year. I had my doubts as soon as the school bus had passed through the tall gates atop which read in spiraling letters "Griswoldrian Family Cemetery Est. 1767."
In bed this morning I had thought of pretending to be sick and spending the rest of the day reading safely indoors, but the sun was out and I realized that countless other classes had gone on this trip, done research on an urban legend, and come home safely. They had touched graves, looked at them, and walked among the spirits of the dead in this old part of the woods surrounded by rock fences. They had come home alive and happy.
Here I was today, fourteen years old and I clung to Mr. Cainson like I needed him. Perhaps it was not the crumbling stone that faltered my steps, but my own inhuman grief. Perhaps sometimes a deep hole dug by sadness was avoided by bolting in fear. Death was simply one of those things that I couldn't help but to shy from.
My friends followed close behind me as I took my hesitant steps into the cemetery, then diverged off their different ways. My teacher stayed by my side.
I stopped walking abruptly. There in the leaves was a tombstone almost as tall as me. A poem was etched in the stone and atop it was a sneering gargoyle. "Ludwig Von Tökkentakker, 1898," I read aloud. "An owner of a carnival who gathered many players who perhaps was never killed but stole the souls of his slayers."
I flinched and pulled my hat down over my ears again as a blast of wind picked up the leaves and made them swirl in the air. Such a sight I always thought was beautiful. Now, I shivered.
"Anna," Mr. Cainson said gently. "I wouldn't take the words literally. The poem was probably a joke...there are several legends surrounding Ludwig Von Tokkentakker and more than likely someone long after his death put an epitaph on his grave based on those legends. There are photos of his grave and when it was new there was no writing on it. It was simply put there to frighten people into believing silly stories."
I touched it with a finger and jerked my hand away. "It seems old to me," I muttered.
I turned away to find something less scary when the shine of something caught my eye. There-partially covered by dry leaves. I walked toward it without thinking, taking my hands out of my pockets to cup the thing in my palms.
"A golden coin," I whispered. Barely readable were the words Admit One to Carnival. Instantly I glanced around, my eyes searching for the grave. On the tombstone lay a round indentation; as though someone had taken a large hammer and pushed the stone back an inch or so. Perhaps that coin belonged in there...?
"I think someone took this off the grave," I said, turning the coin over in my hand as I walked back. "It's heavy and I don't think it's been disturbed in some time."
"Let me see," he said, his hand extended to me. I put the coin in his hand and he looked it over, staring at the front and back. "Yes, this belongs here," he said. "There's a story about it, but...I can't quite remember. Something about a carnival coming into town when the coin is in its rightful place?"
"Should I?" I asked, taking the coin and pushing it into its indentation. We waited for an instant, my heart throbbing. Nothing happened.
