Over Time

by jrioux19

A darker look into the world of Erin Morgenstern’s book, “The Night Circus” And the magical world of “Harry Potter”. Jameston Brighting is a young wizard fresh out of school and he moves to London to see the muggle world for himself. However, he is soon tangled in a murderous game between two dark wizzards. Will he be able to stop them from destroying his new found home?

Chapter One:

I'm just exploring the idea of a Night Circus Spin off that is just a tad bit darker. Humor me?

The air wafts with the scent of candy appled treats swimming through the crowd of mesmerized patrons. Tall, rickity street lamps flicker yellow light over the mass of bodies snaking around the fairground; giving a warm background to the foggy mist surrounding the circus. You can hardly keep your excitement in your quaking body, unintentionally allowing for your hands to shiver in your gloves as a smile refuses to shake from your lips.

This child-like giddiness consumes not only you, but every one of the people who crowd in the spaces around to you as you all walk in a daze from tent to tent. The violins send haunting notes into your ears, pushing and pulling you this way and that, tearing you further and further from reality. This is no longer your own world, but a world of deep laughter and spinning lights. A world of scarlet scarves and blood red roses in a sea of black and white frocks. The longer you sway with the people in the crowd, the deeper your sink into the never-ending void of this wonderful dream-like trance. As your feet shuffle forward to the sound of the mystical string quartets, you and the rest of the innocent bystanders surrounding around you begin to creep towards the back tent. The final tent. The black tent.

It looms ominous yet inviting in the distance. A pure contradiction of itself as the black velvety cloth of the structure stretches up to the stars. The violen music is pulling you from there, wrapping it's tender notes around your wrist and dragging you forward. As you get closer, you feel the want— no the need to give yourself over to the tent, to the music, to the circus. One foot in front of the other, you carry yourself with a smile, closer and closer to the tent. The music is so enchanting you easily miss the growing sound of screams coming from behind it's soft flaps. In your daze you are blind to all but the warm glow from behind the curtain as you are tugged closer, and closer, and closer, and closer...