Summary
Vash and Erika are siblings that are looking for a fresh start during WWII, but anywhere both go trouble ensues. Along their journey, the siblings face a recruiter for a circus and they accept, but little do they know that not all things are fun and games behind these surfaces.
When a competing circus under the name "Red Phantom" confronts the siblings new home into a game of survival, everything becomes a gamble, and there can only be one victor. Truths will be exposed, lives will be suffered, cards will be assigned, and their nightmare is only beginning.
Settings
Present time (wherever the reader is from).
Europe WWII in the country of France after Germany's invasion. Mainly takes place during the winter season and within the circus tents.
Snowflakes slowly touch the Earth, enveloping her with snow as you stand outside iron gates, huddling for whatever heat your outfit provides. You curse at yourself for overlooking those hand warmers on the table. A modest crowd circles you and you try your best not to eavesdrop some of the discussions. There is a sign above the gate, but you cannot make out the unfamiliar words. You curse at yourself again for cutting that French course.
"Welcome to the Circus of Dreams," reads a man behind you.
You turn around and lock eyes with them for a moment, and a twinge of awkward shakes your nerves. You smile sheepishly, tugging at the red scarf around your throat tensely wondering why you were in this place again. Then suddenly you remember. You were on your way to your friend's house when you saw a group of young adults wander into the forest and curiosity got the better of you.
Ten had minutes had passed since then, and you lost that group from beforehand. You look at the gates – closed.
A few people in the crowd start to mumble something about a clock as you begin to browse for an attendant to unlock the gates, yet no-one arrives and you begin to become restless. A powder of snow grazes against your cheek and you shiver, burying your hands in your scarf and breathing small puffs of air. As time proceeds to count down you all but give up on entering. Besides I have better places to be. You consider as you look at your cellphone. Five missed calls and twelve texts from your friend.
"Mommy, I'm freezing," fusses a child in front of you.
The child's mother's lips become a thin hard line, yet her expression tender and caring in spite of that. She takes her daughter's hand into her own and throws a smile.
"I'm sure you are, sweetie," she replies melodiously. You chuckle to yourself due to her acting abilities. "But I'm sure you don't want to miss the circus."
Her daughter purses their lips in consideration. "But why is this circus so special?" They question as their mother zips up their coat, and the girl dries their nose with the back of their gloves in the process. You try your best not to seem utterly sickened.
The mom kept her face relaxed and spoke between gritted teeth. "Well, this circus only comes out during wintertime. No one understands why, it just does."
Learning this peaks your interests. A circus that only appears in wintertime? How peculiar.
A rush of unknown warmth burst into your face, and your frozen lips begin to defrost. Your mouth opens to ask the woman a question, but as soon as you can make noise the ringing of a chime echoes, catching everyone off guard. There's a change in movement as the crowd begins to shift like an ocean, tugging you along with its currents. At this point, the mother and daughter vanished into the crowd.
"Here we go!" says an enthusiastic man standing to the left of you. You notice that there is an unusual twinkle in his eye.
The gates gradually open with a ghostly moan and the crowd speeds by you with a vigorous energy that's hard to ignore. You are pulled by the sheer sway of each person and then abandoned as you pass the gates. There is a boom within the circus that gradually comes to life as a storybook. You glance around the plaza and see that the landscape is, for the most part, monochromatic colors of black and white with shades of apple red and ocean blue splattered around. Lines were being formed at vendors, and performers of various appearances, skin tones and sizes wore elaborate garments of the black, white, red, and blue color system. An electrifying surge courses through your nerves and you quickly fail to remember that moments ago you were chilled to the bone.
A gentleman with a black raven tailcoat, silk top hat and silver tipped cane keeps observation over you with a curved Cheshire smirk on his face. He is attractive in his personal style with his long, wavy blond hair that cascades down the nape of his neck barely grazing the neckband of the tuxedo. His blue eyes contrast the blackness of the evening but compliment the whiteness of the snow and milkiness of his skin. They instantly lock with yours. His facial hair grows in small strands that make him appear a tad older than he may seem. 32 was your theory.
He advances towards you with phantom movements while twirling his cane around his wrist. He makes it to your feet and bows gracefully, catching you off guard by how quick he got there. He then grabs your hand into his gloved one and plants a small kiss on it. Flustered at the unexpected gesture, you draw your hand away. You can't help but imagine that this person is a creeper as his eyes gaze your frame up and down as if he were judging it. He then looks up at you and winks deviously. Presumably you have passed his test.
He aligns his body out and hands you a business card. You were uncertain if he was offering it to you for free or if this was a gimmick to kidnap you, but with hesitant hands you take it from him.
The silver font radiates splendidly against the black background as elaborate swirls radiate from the tips from each word. It reads: Bienvenue à Cirque Du Somnia. You came to the conclusion that the person works here, and this is how the employees always greet their guests, much to your discomfort. You smile warmly and look up to thank the gentleman for his service, but he is no longer there, and a lone blue rose petal lingers.
OPENING ACT
Chapter One: Le Chemin du Retour
FWOOOOT!
The train's whistle screamed in the snow-filled evening, and its iron wheels groaned and creaked, gradually thundering to life on the tracks. Pedestrians on the side followed as it slowly left, shaking small handkerchiefs and running to get one last glimpse of beloved ones from the windows, wishing them a pleasant journey. The train was on its way to France from Austria, the people embarking on it were looking for an escape from the war – a new life.
In the back of the train was the livestock unit filled with sheep, cattle, and other farm animals that were to either be slaughtered or sheared for the forthcoming Frost. They craned their necks to observe two stowaways but continued their affairs as normal, their black eyes filled with indifferent concern. A brother and sister huddled together for heat as the train plodded further.
The sister's dirty blonde hair was braided into asymmetrical braids around her face. Her dark green eyes, once filled with innocence, stained with war. Her pink dress and suede fur boots were spotted with mud and soot, but she didn't appear to notice. Her eyes dropped heavily with exhaustion as she twirled one end of her braid between her fingers, staring awkwardly at her boots. She tapped her toes together and tried to get warm in the chill.
The brother, two years her elder, looked identical to her minus the long hair, but his eyes were keen and appeared to be a ruthless scowl hanging from his lips. His worn, tattered leather jacket was torn in several areas, and his paperboy cap kept his head somewhat warm, but nevertheless it wasn't enough. His body shivered vigorously as he tried his best to evenly cover his jacket around him and his sister.
"Vash?" his sister spoke. Her voice was merely a whisper and lips a tad blue. Her teeth and body chattered softly as her breath rolled in small puffs. "Do you know where we're traveling?"
Vash leaned his head towards the ceiling of the train and sighed. "Not a clue." He paused to look at her and met a pair of worried eyes. "Anywhere but here is better. Ever since our caretaker divorced, and France has been under new power things haven't been running well." He quickly tried to reassure her.
The thought of their previous caretaker reading a pitiful scrawled excuse for an apology for leaving on such short notice didn't seem to concern Vash at all. I'm sure he'll understand, and if not, he'll never be sober enough to know anyways.
The train started to reach an average speed as the two rocked from side–to–side, their bodies colliding stiffly with one another in a clock ticking cadence. His sister managed a faint smile, but it gradually slipped to a perplexed frown. "But I admired Mr. Gaul. He had such incredible talent, particularly with art."
Vash grimaced. He never liked it when his sister praised another man, especially a man who essentially tortured them for the past ten years with an absurd amount of dictatorship ruling. But of course, it was all for the sake of art according to Mr. Gaul.
"Well, what's so great about him anyway? He was an egotistic, pompous, know–it–all that only cared about himself. Sure he knew how to save money and was mediocre at drawing doodles, but he's still not that great." His sister giggled, causing Vash to flush red. "W-what? What's so funny?"
His sister caught her breath and grinned. Her cheeks flushed a vivid shade of rose pink that glowed brightly against her creamy skin. "It's nothing. I just realized that you seem to know a lot about Mr. Gaul, even if it is such unusual things about him." Her smile stretched. "I actually believe you may like him."
Vash choked. "I do not!" he retorted, his blush deepening from embarrassment. He turned his head away from his sister in attempts to look distraught. "Who could ever like a man like him? Besides, I don't need to like anyone. All I need is you, and everything is alright with me."
It was his sister's turn to blush.
"Vash," she whispered.
Not realizing what he said, Vash turned his eyes away and bit his tongue. "W-well it's true. You're my sister, and you're all that's left of our family, so of course I need you."
The word family felt so alien on his tongue that it burned his lips. He replayed the word in his head, questioning if it was the proper term to use.
Family, how sweet, his sister thought.
She pulled her brother's hand into her own and looked sincerely into his eyes.
"Thank you, Vash. That means a lot to me," she said with a genuine smile.
Vash returned the smile. It was a modest one, but a smile none the less. He had wondered to himself about the last time he had smiled, but the thoughts interfered when his sister came around with a wheezing cough. The sound was that of a drum pounding heavily in her chest, and her face cringed with pain as each cough came back with more force.
"Erika," Vash said with concern, putting out a supportive hand on her shoulder.
She shook her head and brushed her brother's hand off. She managed to catch her breath and gave him a weak smile.
"I'm okay," she rasped. Her voice was practically inaudible.
"Like hell you are!" Vash barked, his eyes intense, but Erika gave a reassuring smile.
"Vash, you don't always need to worry about me. I'm all right okay?"
Vash scowled in response but relaxed none the less.
It seems like she's getting worse, he thought as he watched his sister straighten herself out.
Reactively, he pulled her towards his chest and Erika blinked in confusion, but didn't pull away. She had always thought that being her brother's arms was her personal kind of safety net. She slowly closed her eyes and smiled as the rocking of the train and the feeling of her brother stroking her head lulled her to sleep. The snow had begun to fall again.
An hour had passed, and Erika was asleep on Vash's shoulder, her chest gradually rising and falling steadily.
Good, she seems to be doing better, Vash thought with a smile. He had been keeping watch for the past hour, but soon weariness caught up with him. His eyes grew heavier with every passing second, and his head lolled up and down, but the train would jerk him awake with a painful jolt each time he was close to being asleep.
Vash had lost track of the days that had passed as the train had pulled into a few areas, but only to load on more cargo. At that time, he covered his sister in fear of getting caught by the staff, but on several nights he would succumb the fight against exhaustion. The sense of fatigue would wash over him, and his body gradually began to shut down. He would then pull his cap over his eyes and slip into a deep sleep.
In a tiny village in Switzerland, the sky had become an ominous gray and rain crashed relentlessly on the rooftops of homes. There was a scream of absolute agony reverberating within a particular home, and the lamps were flickering eerily. A young Vash covered his ears to block out the sounds of suffering that escaped his mother's mouth. There was a blend of nausea and discomfort sinking in the pit of his stomach. Never before had he felt this useless. He removed his hands from his ears and sat silently on a wooden chair in the kitchen, clutching his pants till his knuckles were white. His mother had been in labor for an entire day, and things have not seemed to be ending anytime soon. His father paced around the kitchen frantically, eyes wide with distress and exhaustion. One more cry rang out, and Vash's father stopped.
"God dammit. Why isn't the doctor done? Should it be taking this long?" he cursed, running a hand through his hair frantically.
Vash chewed his lip and proceeded to watch his father panic. Watching his father in such a state frightened him.
"Papa," he called out weakly. His cry fell on deaf ears. "Papa," he cried louder.
Still no response. A sense of weakness and desperation gnawed at Vash. Tears stung the back of his eyes and a tight, raw feeling clenched throat.
"Papa!" he screamed this time.
His father turned and looked at him with a sunken face. Vash jumped back completely horrified. His father's face was sullen with thick, heavy black circles under his eyes, and he was so thin that he was just bones. His golden mane was now that of an old widowed hag. He was a living corpse.
Vash swallowed hard and stifled a sniffle. Now was not the time for weakness and not in any way will there be one according to his father. Vash's father's gaze was dull, nearly ghost-like until he recognized that he was worrying his son. He kneeled down and extended outstretched arms towards Vash, providing a burdened smile. "Come here my son."
Vash nodded obediently and slowly shuffled over to his father, burying his face into his chest and holding on for dear life. His tears managed to stop threatening to come out, and his breath grew into small hiccups or short gasps for air. He always felt safe within his father's arms.
His father gently began to stroke Vash's blond hair and lightly rocked him. "I am sorry for worrying you."
Vash remained silent but closed his eyes. There was another pained cry followed by frantic shouts and thundering feet pounding against the floor. Vash felt his father tremble underneath him, and he looked up with large wide eyes. While there was no indication, his father was crying. His mother screamed out again and then silence. Vash's father gasped.
"God please help us."
The sudden clamor of sheep and cows in panic woke Vash immediately, but his vision slightly blurred. Erika soon awoke after and shivered from the blast of a cold air that entered through the cracks of the floor. The two peered around their surroundings only to hear a foreign tongue in the background speaking at high speeds followed by quick short laughs.
Erika turned to look at Vash, worry locked in her expression, but Vash gave an encouraging nod and placed a finger on his lips. She nodded in obedience and ran her finger over her lips as if she was zipping them shut and kept close to him. The doors soon glided open, and two men entered with crowbars at hand.
"Those stupid Italians. Why are charging extra for livestock? They make me sick," said one man.
He had a thick French accent and mustache that complemented his long, skinny face. He had an average build but scrawny twigs for arms. There was a noticeable scar across his eye and a permanent scowl on his lips.
His comrade was the complete opposite. He had a round face with a matching turnip nose, and his figure was that of a walrus. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the cold sweat from his brow and groaned slightly.
"Yes, I know. You keep complaining about it every chance that you have. I get it," the large man grumbled as he huffed for air, putting the handkerchief away in his front pocket.
Vash watched from the corner of his eye, holding Erika behind him with one hand and supporting himself with the other.
If Vash had one thing to be thankful for one thing that Mr. Gaul had done for him and his sister, it was forcing them to take military defensive classes. But of course, it wasn't for necessarily for them it was for the sake of art.
Vash eyes focused, and his breath lightened as he scanned the area for an escape plan. Erika clasped her hands close to her chest and closed her eyes. She then began chanting a small prayer to calm herself. She then felt Vash's hand move away from her shoulder, and she opened her eyes. He looked at her and nodded.
The thinner man started to walk around the livestock as his partner kept watch of the outside. "Five, six, seven," the thin man counted. He kicked them at them in disgust and growled. "Seven, eight, ni—Wait, what the hell?"
The man's cry for urgency was cut off as Vash hurled himself at the man and reached a hand for his throat. Vash then threw the man on his back with a loud thud and straddled him to make sure he couldn't back up. Vash swiftly reached for the back of his pocket, pulling out a switchblade and pressing it against the thin man's neck. The man paled, inhaling sharply and released his crowbar. He threw his hands on Vash's arms to relieve some of the pressure from the blade and around his neck, but the more he struggled, the more Vash applied. Vash, on the other hand, was struggling. He hadn't taken account that the man was strong, considering it looked like his arms would break in half. Hearing a ruckus behind him, the larger comrade turned with stunned eyes.
"Gah!" he shrieked, making his way towards Vash and raising his crowbar.
Erika panicked and revealed her position. "Vash, look out! He's coming on your right."
From the corner of his eye, Vash saw the larger man and smirked coyly. He collapsed into a front somersault, releasing the thin man's neck and dodging the crowbar's furry. The bar then collided with the thin man's stomach knocking the air out of his lungs and paralyzing him. Frazzled, the larger man panicked and stumbled backward only to meet Vash's boot with his face. The large man then collapsed on his back, completely unconscious.
"Erika, let's go!" Vash called out, extending a hand to his sister.
Erika scampered to her feet and took her brother's hand, running towards the exit of the box car. The train had stopped at a station and luckily there had been no evidence that they created a commotion.
A fresh batch of snow had just fallen, and Vash decided to use it to his advantage. He jumped out landing on the powdered snow with a soft pff. He then quickly stood up and turned towards Erika.
"Jump! I'll catch you," he commanded with arms outstretched, but Erika stood there, completely petrified.
Behind her the thin man slowly regained control of his body and rolled over to his stomach with the rest of his strength. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump went the throbbing in his head, eyes wild and glazed. His hand immediately went to his head as the room swirled, but eyes stopped on a girl at the exit of the box car.
"You," he rasped dangerously.
He scampered to his feet and trampled on the floor with drunken footsteps.
You damn brat, he thought.
Vash had only seen a shadow of something moving from the corner of his eye, so he didn't have time to react. Erika screamed as the thin man wrapped an arm around her neck from the back and aimed a 44 magnum handgun towards Vash.
"Hoho, look at what we have here: two stowaways," the man purred as he lifted Erika off the ground by her neck.
"Erika!" Vash's pupils dilated, and he immediately dropped his defense.
"V-Vash," Erika choked as she pulled on the man's arm to relieve the pressure around her throat. She thrashed her legs violently, but the man tightened his grip, and she promptly stopped.
Vash growled but kept a close eye on Erika, who was now on the verge of tears. The man cackled as he drew the gun's hammer back. There was a threatening click and Vash withheld a terrified wheeze.
"Damn brat," the thin man spat as if the word burned like acid.
"Vash." Erika's voice was all but a tiny whisper now. Her body trembled like a leaf, and a tear rolled down her cheek from the pain around her neck. She could feel the swelling in her throat, and her heart rate accelerate.
The feeling of uselessness started to gnaw at Vash's conscience. "You coward," he snarled, "taking a girl as a hostage."
The man's face twisted in confusion. "You speak English, brat?" He loosened his hold on Erika and squinted. "Pity. A fine man your age should be blessed with the beauty of the French tongue instead of that mistake of a language. "
"Shut up, I don't care about your damn language." Vash snarled. His accent escaped slightly and his voice was stern and cold. His eyes were dark green daggers and his shoulders hovered dangerously.
The man gave a smug grunt. "Oh, wait… a Swedish boy, no? What are you doing so far from home?" Vash didn't speak and body language refused to as well. The thin man cocked an eyebrow and pursed his lips. "Stubborn brat. If you're curious on how I figured it out, your accent gives you away. Might want to fix that if you want to survive, but it doesn't matter, you're going to rot in jail anyways for stowing away."
Vash visibly turned red in fury. How dare this scumbag talk to him like this! The Frenchman smiled impishly noticing that he had stumped the boy. He spun Erika to where she was facing him her chest pressed against his and his arms wrapped around her waist. She struggled to escape, but his grip was too strong almost suffocating. The man then took a good at her face and smiled.
"Hey, you're kind of cute." There was a sensual purr within his tone. He brought his face in close and Erika's pupils grew. "What do you say that I kill this pipsqueak and take you home to a real man?"
His breath smelled heavily of cigarettes and booze that it nearly made her faint, but the fact that his lips were closing in on hers shot a cold feeling through her.
"No!" she screamed at him. She started to thrash her body again with more force and the man began to grow impatient.
"Stupid bitch," he snarled.
He quickly holstered his gun and snaked his hand through the top of her dress, deepening the neck hole and revealing most of her breasts. He then groped her violently making her wince in pain. Her body twitched. He was touching her. He was violating her. He then began to twist her nipple which earned him another pained whimper. The man started feeling more aroused as he breathed slowly and let his tongue trace up her neck and sending sensual chills down Erika's spine. Erika bit the inside of her cheek to keep from any other sounds from escaping her mouth. She could already taste the blood. The man scowled in dissatisfaction and shot his hand to grab her chin to keep her from escaping. Tears flew out of her eyes as she struggled again, but he kept a steady grip.
"Vash!" she screamed in final desperation.
Hearing his name broke Vash out of his blind rage but Erika's cries were then muffled with man's lips crashing on hers. The kiss was rough as the man explored deeper within her mouth with his tongue and pressing her body against his. Vash's eyes flew into a rage as Erika gagged on her own spit.
No, no, no! She screamed at herself. She felt the outside rim of her mouth bruising and her gag reflex giving out; the acid burned her throat, but she refused to give in.
"You – you bastard!" Vash said. His voice was almost demonic.
The man ignored him and pulled Erika closer towards his pelvis and thrust her against the side of the cargo door, slamming her back against the metal frame. She whimpered as he rubbed his hardened manhood on her inner thigh. His tongue swirled in her mouth, sucking out whatever air supply she had left. She started to panic even more as she closed her eyes and tears fell down her face even harder. Every time she tried to pull out for a breath he pushed against her more.
Vash raised his switchblade. "I'm going to kill you, you son–of–a–bitch!"
Erika reacted to the sound of her brother's voice. As soon as the man's tongue slid back into her mouth she bit down until she tasted warm copper and felt liquid trailing against her lips. The man howled viciously and released her immediately. His tongue recoiled back into his mouth as blood stained his tattered shirt. He hissed and eyes grew dangerous. Before he could grab a hold of her, Erika frantically jumped off the train and tumbled in the snow, her dress being torn by the gravel hidden underneath. Vash then let his blade loose and the man took a step towards the edge of the cart.
There was no pained outburst as the blade penetrated deep within the man's skull and was instantly killed, his body crashing to the ground below like a bag of bricks. Vash panted heavily to keep himself from running to the man and tearing his heart right out of his chest.
It was all over.
Erika crawled weakly to her brother and buried her face in his chest, sobbing heavily and trembling. Vash ran a hand through her hair and held on tightly.
"I'm sorry Erika. I'm so sorry. I should have reacted sooner. I should have-"
As he continued to apologize, her sobs then became choked coughs and gasps for breath since the mucus had trailed into her mouth. Pure guilt sank in Vash's stomach. He hated this feeling. The last time when he had felt this guilty was when –
There was a high pitched whistle cry. Vash turned his head to see a man looking straight them with wide, terrified eyes. Vash then looked at the body of the man he had just killed and stopped caressing his sister's head. The man had already vanished by the time Vash had figured out what was happening.
Run. They needed to run now.
He quickly jumped to his feet and pulled his sister off the ground. "Hurry, we need to get out of here now."
The urgency in his voice told Erika that it was about to get worse, so she swallowed whatever tears she had left and didn't question him. She took hold of his hand and started to run with her brother leading. The sound of thundering boots and angry shouts soon followed behind them. The siblings moved through the blistering cold and felt that their lungs were about to burst in their chest, but they continued to run. They went through a barbed wire fence, ignoring the sting of the barbs against their flesh.
They're just clothes, Vash thought.
Ba–dump, ba–dump, ba–dump, went their synchronized heartbeats as they ran through the snow filled night unsure of which direction they were going. Soon they ran to the edge of a riverbank and attempted to catch their breaths. The currents underneath weren't fast, but the width of the river itself would have killed them both if the ice gave way.
"Vash, over there," Erika said, pointing at a bridge.
It was like a beacon and their hearts swelled with hope, but making it before the law enforcement caught up with them was slim to none. Vash scowled. "Dammit, the both of us can't make it."
The thundering boots of the men grew closer and were now accompanied by the snarls and angry barks of dogs. Erika clung tightly to her brother's arm and began to shake. Feeling responsible for her safety, Vash grasped her hand and looked her in the eye.
"Erika, listen to me okay. I'm going create a distraction and I want you to run for the bridge, okay?" As he was telling her this, he took his hat and coat off and placed it on her, taking a mental note of the things she needed to survive in the cold. Erika stared with a terrified gaze and shook her head, but he grabbed her shoulders and stared at her sternly. "And don't tell me no, I need to do this okay." He kissed her forehead and lifted her chin. Noticeable tears were in her eyes as the bruises started to form around her lips. His stomach clenched.
The police were now within sight and Vash gave a heavy sigh. Clouds of white swirled from his mouth as the hair on his arms stood erect and his nipples that grew hard from the cold revealed under his white t-shirt. He then shoved her away from him.
"Go!" he commanded.
"Vash!" Her voice cracked from the tightness of her throat.
Before he had time to respond the group of men and several police officers had surrounded them within a semi-circle, blocking off her chance of escape. Each police officer had pulled out a handgun, aiming it at them and yelling angrily in French.
Dammit, I couldn't save her, Vash cursed in thought.
Amongst the men's voices and the dog's hungry snarls echoed a booming voice. All became silent. A man walked through the crowd of men and dogs. Guessing from his appearance, Vash figured it was the chief of police. His eyes were stern and light hazelnut brown. His raven black hair was tied in a ponytail and dreadlocks cascaded from the back. Black stubs of facial hair escaped his chin and around the side of his face. His skin complexion was a dark chocolate and his body structure was a wall. He stopped in front of Vash and Erika, his legs shoulder width apart, his hands in his pockets, and a cigar in his mouth. He inhaled sharply then took the cigar out with what Vash thought were troll hands and exhaled deeply; a long trail of smoke trailed from his lips and evaporated towards the sky.
"You caused me a lot of trouble tonight kid," he said, tapping the butt of the cigar with a finger and rubbing the back of his head.
Vash kept his eyes focused on the chief. "Sorry officer, we just got lost," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
The chief blinked. "English, huh?" His voice was beginning to elevate in sarcasm. "Well, your stupid adventure got one of the train workers killed. And you know what that means, don't 'cha?" His voice now escalated with irritation as he began to squeeze the cigar between his fingers. Ash started to crumble between the cracks of his fingertips and the siblings watched in a mesmerized fear. He then crushed the cigar in his bare hands and released the ashes in the wind, leaving no trace of burn marks. "It means you're now a criminal."
Vash paled. "But that was for defensive reasons," he retorted. "He was raping my sister in front of me!" The words stung his lips.
He was going to rape my sister, he thought guiltily. A gnawing feeling clenched in his stomach as his lips contorted into a disgusted frown.
The group of the workmen groaned and began to mutter under their breath, but the chief shot them a devilish glare, silencing them all immediately. The chief turned towards Erika. "Is this true?"
Erika hesitantly nodded. The chief's face scrunched in thought and turned towards men. He began to say something in French and his units lowered their weapons.
"Well if that's the case, we need to bring you two in for questioning."
It was Erika turn to pale. She ran in front of her brother, surprising both the chief and Vash. "Please, don't take him!" she pleaded with arms outstretched. At this point, it was obvious that Vash's jacket was too large for her as it fell pass her knees.
"Erika what are you doing?" Vash whispered under his breath.
His sister turned towards him, green eyes gleaming with determination. "I refuse to let them take you away from me, so please…don't tell me to leave you again, alright?"
Tightness closed around Vash's throat as his eyes widened. He couldn't think of anything to say his sister's response, so instead he bowed his head and smiled weakly. Thank you was all he could think of at the moment.
The chief's eyes focused intensely on Erika as if in thought. One could tell he had an inner conflict by the way his forehead scrunched and his nose twitched from side–to–side. He pulled out another cigar from a case in his back pocket and stuck it in his mouth. He didn't light it.
"You, girl," he said, addressing Erika. "What's your name?"
Before Erika could answer Vash cried out, "Lili, her name is Lili."
The chief of police looked at Vash with disbelief then looked at Erika, who gave a confused look as well, but instead of fighting it he accepted it.
The chief twirled the cigar in his mouth and raised an eyebrow. Lili, huh? He sighed heavily. "Look Lili, we're not going to send your brother, lover, whatever he is to you, to jail. We're just going to take you two for questioning to see what the situation is. Maybe you guys might spend one night in a holding cell, but that's just for safety precautions. Trust me you two are in good hands."
The twins slightly lowered defenses. The chief did seem to be telling the truth, and it seemed that they could trust him. Just one night? That doesn't look too bad, Vash thought. Who knows, we might even get lucky and get a free meal.
A sudden laugh broke his train of thought and was followed behind a hollow applause. Everyone turned their heads see two men in suits walking in their direction. One was wearing a midnight black suit the other an ocean blue. The man wearing the black suit held a matching black umbrella over his head and there was a cocky grin over his lips. His blue eyes seemed to be entirely focused on Vash, and if not him both of the siblings. Vash blinked warily at the man and his companion. He wasn't even sure where they came from. The two men stopped in between Vash, his sister, and the cops.
The other man was a tad bit shorter and seemed less approachable. An elegant blue cape fluttered behind him gracefully as he tipped his blue top hat over his eyes, covering half of his face. He had pure white silk gloves on each hand and a silver watch chain dangled from his front pocket; its coat glistening brightly from the reflection of the snow. The siblings gaped in awe. It's as if they had both appeared from a fairytale book.
The taller man smiled at Erika. "Hello, my petite angel." He outstretched a hand but was immediately rejected as Vash pulled his sister behind him defensively. The man's smile fell and slightly curled into displeased frown. "Eh, hello." His voice was a little less welcoming, not that Vash cared.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing here Francis?" the chief shouted.
The man called Francis craned his neck to face the chief. There was an impish grin hanging from his lips. "Ah, hello Mr. Carlos Machado." He had a sing-song tone in his voice and his blue eyes danced. "I didn't see you there."
"Like hell you didn't," Carlos scowled. The calm demeanor he had before vanished as he bared his teeth and puffed his chest. "What are you doing out of your little freak show?"
The man next to Francis tensed visibly and curled his hands into fists. Francis on the contrary, placed a hand over his chest and puckered his lips. "Freak show? My, such cruel language Mr. Machado even for you. I do not appreciate you dehumanizing my prized possessions and calling them freaks." He closed the umbrella and snow fell to the ground in large clumps. He then clicked his tongue and wagged a finger in disapproval. "No, I refuse to accept this kind of improper behavior. Arthur, if you please."
Vash and Erika took a step backward as Arthur took a step forward. He tipped his hat up to the point where you could see his green eyes shining darkly and bushy eyebrows curling on his forehead. He had a frown on his lips. "What do you want?"
Francis laughed weakly. "Well if you'd please get rid of the problem, I'd greatly appreciate it. You know I have a very busy schedule and there's a show in about three hours. And you know how Mr. Honda gets when I'm late."
Arthur's frown deepened. "So you basically want me to do your dirty work, so you don't get lectured by our manager."
Francis only smiled in response. "Well if you put it that way, you make me seem like I'm just using you. Besides I need these two in my circus and I can't have them if they're in jail."
He turned back towards the twins. "No offense. It's my policy not to take criminals that are in prison."
Vash and Erika only blinked in confusion.
Arthur sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his head. "Lazy cod."
Arthur took a few more steps forward into the circle and Carlos and his men took a few back. Everyone then watched Arthur roll his sleeves to his elbows and do some breathing exercises. He then flicked his wrist several times as in some type of preparation and closed his eyes.
Carlos scoffed, "What is he doing? Preparing for the Olympics, sorry but those passed a few months ago."
Arthur didn't open his eyes but responded in irritation. "No sir, but if you, please be quiet you may learn a thing or two."
Arthur began chanting what seemed like a spell, but it couldn't be. There was no such thing as magic. A small wind started to dance around the group and picked up strands of snow, swirling it around like a little tornado. Erika held down her dress as the velocity began to increase, and the men behind Carlos started to grow frantic. They shuffled in fear as the mini tornado grew fiercer and the force of the wind began to swallow them towards the center. Vash quickly anchored his sister to the ground but felt his own feet lifting off the ground. Everything then suddenly stopped and then men began to shuffle uneasily. Arthur opened his eyes and grinned devilishly. He snapped his gloved finger and a burst of snow exploded with a sonic boom force, knocking the men off their feet and throwing them into the air like rag dolls. Each man fell unconscious as they hit the ground.
Carlos, who seemed to be spared, slowly began to tremble, lips quivering.
"W-what did you do?"
Arthur chuckled and took off his top hat with a bow and covered his chest. "I'm glad that my act has caused such a reaction, but I'm afraid that…" He lifted his head slightly and smiled that devilish smile. "A great magician never reveals his secrets."
Carlos only growled in response, but Erika applauded in amazement. Arthur straightened up and placed his hat back on his head. "Thank you, you're too kind."
Francis smiled smugly at the chief and swatted his hand. "Now that that's settled…shoo you stupid pig, I have some business to attend to."
"Business?" Carlos said completely confused. His eyes then widened. "You don't mean-"
"Oh, but I do. I wouldn't be here if that weren't the case." Francis's grin darkened.
Vash and Erika blinked in unison. What on Earth was this man talking about?
"Hey kid, don't listen to a word this man says. He's very dangerous. Come with me and I'll find you a nice place to stay at. I-I'll even drop any charges that might rise." Carlos's voice was basically a plea mixed with absolute terror. It made Vash uncomfortable.
Francis clicked his tongue. "Oh my dear boy, please do not listen to this man's strange words. I come here only as a humble recruiter, and from the looks of it, you both seem like runaways with no home and no income." Vash could only gawk as Francis laughed nervously. He then cleared his throat and shifted into a more serious demeanor. "Look, I'm looking for people to join my circus and you and your...sister seemed like the perfect candidates. That is all that I am saying. Nothing more or nothing less."
Vash didn't like the way Francis was coming to his sister, and he sure as hell didn't appreciate the way he was talking about her. His eyes darted warily as he crossed his arms across his chest is disapproval.
"Oh really? And what makes you think I, I mean we want anything to do with you."
Francis's eyes flickered dangerously as if Vash fell right into his trap. "Well, I can see why you would be precautious. A man such as myself can be pretty intimidating." Arthur scoffed, but Francis ignored him, "But you see young man, I can give you a new life," he responded sweetly.
Vash's ears peaked and heart fluttered.
A new life? He thought.
Erika stood next to him and wrapped her hands around his, squeezing tightly. In return, he looked at her with exhausted eyes. I…we need this. We need this more than anything.
Before Vash could respond, Carlos pulled out his gun and pointed it at Francis. He had already figured out Vash's decision, so before things got worse, he decided to end it right there.
"Don't you dare say another word," he threatened.
Francis swore under his breath and his smile turned into a dangerous frown, blue eyes flickering ominously. Arthur quickly ran in front of him and shifted his body into an offensive pose. Vash quickly shielded his sister and twisted his face into a scowl.
What the hell is going on? He thought anxiously.
"Francis this is obviously a breach of your contract of not taking citizens, and I'm definitely not going to let you take some innocent kids to your cult. I'm sorry, but by law I have to kill you to stop your perusal," Carlos warned.
Francis only smiled. "No offense taken Mr. Machado. It's such a damn shame, though. I bet your daughters will be sad that the circus will no longer be in town."
Carlos only snarled. "Don't you dare bring my family into this you bastard." He looked at Vash and Erika. "Listen kid, I'm going to count to ten, and if you're not over on my side by that time I can't guarantee I won't kill you," he said as if an apology. But he was just doing his job, so there wasn't anything to be sorry for. Vash guessed that even police officers hated doing their job from time to time. "One, two, three-"
The countdown had begun. Vash couldn't believe that he was going to die right then and there. He looked at Francis, who was smiling in a bored fashion. How the hell can he be so calm at a time like this? Vash thought angrily. He didn't know why but looking at this guy's face made him want to punch it.
"Eight, nine, ten."
The trigger was then pulled several times, and the bullets screamed across the field. The twins braced themselves by huddling to the ground and covering their faces into each other's shoulder. But there was no sound of impact. No screams of terror. Nothing.
Vash slowly lifted his head to see Arthur standing in front of the bullet's path and he gasped, yet there was no blood, no wound. Nothing.
Arthur swirled his cape in a circular motion, making a figure eight in midair and then dropping to the ground on one knee, entirely unscathed. No wounds, no blood. Nothing. He then stood up with an ominous gaze and aimed his fingers at Carlos in the shape of a gun.
"Bang," he uttered out dejectedly as he flicked his wrist as if he shot a gun.
Vash and Erika flinched with shock as Carlos cried out in torment and dropped his weapon to the ground, collapsing to his knees in pain. He held a hand to his chest and eyes were dark with disbelief, almost demonic.
"Devils," he muttered, breathing heavily as blood started to soak through his uniform.
Francis smiled. "No…magic."
Magic? What magic? Vash blinked in disbelief and kept his eyes on Carlos. Francis turned towards the twins and gave an outstretched hand.
"Come with us," Francis muttered softly.
As Vash turned towards the hand, a younger version of himself flashed in his mind, standing in the same position that Francis was, but the face was completely faded out. It appeared as if someone had taken their finger and smudged out his face. Unconsciously, Vash reached out his hand and grabbed Francis's. An electrifying surged passed through his arms causing a short pain to pass through his fingertips. Erika soon followed and wrapped her arms around her brother's waist, but her face didn't show any signs of distress. The twins looked at each other sheepishly then nodded simultaneously as if this was the biggest decision of their lives. Francis smiled then swung his arms around them.
"Perfect. Arthur, let's go." Francis commanded sternly.
Arthur nodded obediently and walked with absolute grace, his cape cascading after him. He then turned towards Carlos one last time and smiled, tipping his hat goodbye.
"You ready?" Arthur queried.
Everyone nodded their head in approval, and with a flick of his wrist, Arthur pulled his cape over his head and wrapped it around Francis, Vash, and Erika. Carlos stood there in awe as the cape evaporated into thin air leaving only blue rose petals behind in the place where they once stood.
Rough Translations
Bienvenue à Cirque Du Somnia: Welcome to the Circus of Dreams
Le Chemin du Retour: Homeward Bound
A/N: Hello everybody! I had this story in my head for a while, and it is kind of based on my new favorite book The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. The idea of the circus and rival teams are borrowed, but everything else is my idea. There are currently no pairings in this unless I say otherwise, but there is no point of pairings as of right now. There will be some minor references as crushes and whatnot, but this is not a romance novel. Now next chapter I will be revealing more characters, some minor plot stuff, and a first act! If you like what you are reading please R&R I love those so much, and they help me keep going!