サーカス・モンスター

CiRCuS MoNSTeR

Act 1

Bound to sing for us, a worthless monster.

It never sees us, it despises us.

Scene 1

Lying there, I breath in the horrid stench surrounding me. Slowly, I drag myself off of this pathetic excuse for a bed. An iron bench and a sheet fit for a small child are all they have given me. As my feet touch the floor, I shiver and look towards the door. Will they come for me today? It seems highly probable. I've heard them talking outside my door, whispering about me.

"God, I can't wait until we can get rid of this freak. She's a real pain." one of the men had huffed.

"Yeah, I know what you mean." replied the other. "She too uncooperative. She's a liability to this business."

"Business?" I sigh, mumbling under my breath. I suppose that's an easier way to think of enslaving us. They've no respect for us. We're nothing more than the tools they use to get their money.

Pushing the memory from my mind, I try, in vain, to untangle my hair from around my silver horns. I have to focus. I have to remember.

The only thing they can't take away from us is our memories. I repeat things, under my breathe, that I know to be true. "I am Luka Megurine. I have someone important to me. I want, no, need to escape."

I hear a knock on my door. I quickly sit back on my bed and pull my legs up to my chin. A man comes in, tall and large. Most of us around here call him Kanshu behind his back, because he never gave us an actual name to call him. He wears a black suit, his hair is neatly combed, and square, black sunglasses sit on the end of his nose. He is a stark contrast to my unruly, pink curls, silver horns and dingy hospital gown.

"Get up. Now." he grunts lowly. I had forgotten that it was the end of the week; we all perform today. When I am too slow to rise, he walks briskly to the side of the bed, grabs my arm, and drags me out of the room. I'm pulled down the hall, to a place familiar to us all. We reach a tall, iron door, with a keypad off to the side. There is another room next to it. He tells me to change, and I do so quickly, so that we don't have a repeat of before.

I enter the smaller room. I am greeted by a team of "cleaners", who get straight to work fixing me up for my performance. They start with my head, yanking out the tangles. Then, they wash off my face, legs and arms. They dress me in a simple, black dress, with black arm sleeves that open wide at the end, so I know that we will be singing one of my favorite songs tonight, "Lie"; but how can I really enjoy singing when I'm living like this?

When I come out, Kanshu is punching a combination of numbers into the small keypad, and the door slides up. I know what I have to do. Quickly, so as to not anger him, I step into the chamber, the cool metal sending a shock through my bare feet, and the door closes behind me, leaving me in pitch blackness. Then, the chamber shakes, and I'm going up. The top opens and bright lights find my eyes. I have to shield them and blink.

I rise up to the sound of cheering. Idiots. How could they cheer for something like this? I plaster on a smile and wave to the crowd. They go wild. Over the intercom, a speaker announces me, "Now, put your hands together for... Luka Megurine!"

I step forward and take a deep breath. This is what we do; we sing. It doesn't seem that bad, if you don't think about the horrible living arrangements and cruel treatment. I sing, at the very top of my lungs. Maybe if I'm loud enough, you will hear me. Why did you leave me? Why can't I see you anymore?

After my song, I'm lowered back down. Kanshu meets me there, wearing the same scowl, as always. "Hurry up and change." I go to the dressing room, change back into my pathetic gown, and come back out. "Let's go." He walks toward my room, expecting me to follow. In that split second, I have a decision to make. Do I follow him, or run? No, the second option seems too risky, so I follow. Yet another wasted opportunity, I suppose. He locks the door after go in, and I sit back on my bed. He snickers, grinning at me through the barred window in the door. "You'll be outta here soon, you know. They're getting pretty tired of you. The fans don't like you much either." I shiver at his words. Everyone knows that their time will come eventually, but I've only been here for 3 years. How could I be removed already when most people last at least six or seven? My reaction makes him laugh; a loud, low, evil laugh.

I lay, shivering in my bed. I think back to when you were once with me, my first week here, when we both arrived. Why did you leave so quickly? Did they get tired of you, just as they will with me? Does that mean I'll be with you soon? I smile at the thought.

That night, when you left, you and I were supposed to sing together. Everyone was anxious to hear us. He was even there that night, so He expected it to be a big success.

A man walks up to Him, whispering something. He frowns, and then scowls. "Damn. I should have known this would have happened." He jogs out the door. I look around in confusion, as the others try to calm the crowd.

The crowd is yelling, no, screaming at me. "Sing!" says one of the guards. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Him coming back. Scowling, He turns to another of the guards and talks low. "He's gone."

My eyes go wide. I can't feel anything, can't see anything. My legs are wobbling and I fall to my knees, facing the crowd. They are screaming louder now, but their words fall on deaf ears. Out of the silence of my mind, I hear Him. "Sing." I lift my face to the crowd. He walks to the microphones, takes them, and crouches down beside me. He hands me one, smiling. "You can still sing."

I shake my head. " You… you're not him… Where is he?"

He frowns. "He's gone. You will sing with me." He holds out his hand, and I am slow to take it. He pulls me up as the music begins. The crowd yells, wanting to know where the other star is. He pulls me behind Him and waves His hand past the crowd, calming them instantly. He looks back at me, grinning, and I begin to feel at ease. Maybe it's His power, or perhaps He Himself. I smile and take the microphone from Him. We face the crowd and sing. As we do, I think that maybe it's for the best that you left.

Then I stop. How could I think such a thing? You could never be replaced. I sink to my knees, still singing, and He looks down at me. Tears stream my face, as the crowd jumps up, enraged at me, screaming, "Hey, get up you worthless circus monster!" I keep singing; what else is there to do, but sing? I will be punished later, but I don't care. I sing louder than before, my voice rising with every second, until my voice is deafening. The crowd starts, and they cover their ears. Even He is cringing at the volume of my voice. Perhaps, if I sing loud enough you will hear me. I sing until my throat aches, then I sing some more; this is how I will always sing, until you return.

I still sing that way now. It has been a year since you left. I still haven't found a way out of here, though I look every chance I get. They keep me under more security than the others, because they know I will try to escape.

Though my voice could only reach 85cm when you left, I can now spread my voice much farther without a microphone. About 500 m, actually. I no longer need a microphone for my performances. While the audience enjoyed this trick at first, they have grown tired of me. But maybe, one day, the whole world will be able to hear my voice. Then people might come to help us here. There is nothing but sandy desert, surrounding us for miles. No one actually knows where this place is. The guest are lifted via hovercraft, dropped off at the port, and are taken back in the same way when the show has finished. If only you had waited, then our voices together might be louder, and could reach farther, past this arid landscape. But, I will just have to wait.

There is another knock at my door. I'm not scheduled for another performance today, so it must be Him. He has been visiting me after you left. He only does it to keep me from going crazy, though. I know it. I refuse to have anything to do with anyone else. But He doesn't know that I still have you, in a way. He enters in, a large smile on his face. "You did amazing, as always." When I don't react, he tilts his head to the side, frowning. "Is there something wrong?"

Of course something is wrong. Everything about this place is wrong. I don't say that though. Instead, shaking my head, I look away. He sits down next to me, still frowning. "Have you seen the board recently?"

Ha! The board. The last time I saw that thing, I was in the 29th place. They use it to remind us of our place. Anyone left in the bottom 5 by the end of the month is punished. I'm lucky to have stayed below 35 for so long, but that number is creeping up on me, slowly.

He looks around, His hands folded together in his lap. His expression tells me that He is searching for the right words. Before I can imagine all the different things He might say, He tells me something that leaves me confused. "You will be moved today." He says it quickly and looks away, as if His words are a bomb that He is eager to get out of his hands.

"What do you mean? Am I…" I look down. "Am I leaving?"

"No!" He takes my hand. "Of course not! You're…" He looks away. "You're moving to another room." He looks back at me. "Room number 2."

I start. That's one of the first ten rooms. Only the Elites are allowed to stay in those rooms. I stand up, ripping my hand away, turning on him. "What are you saying? Why am I being moved to… to that room?" I look away, and grab my hair in frustration. There is no reason for me to be moved to the second ranking spot. How could I have made it that far? No one ever moves below ten. Unless someone died recently, and I wasn't told. Even then, everyone from 28 to 2 would have had to die! Other than instances such as those, no one has moved up since….

I look back at Him. Since He pulled up to number one. He's number one... What if He's moving me so that I'll be closer to Him? He's keeping an eye on me! If I could guarantee my safety, I would take that stupid blue scarf of his and wring his neck with it!

He stands up and walks towards the door, looking over His shoulder at me, his long, white coat trailing back. "They will come by in a moment to retrieve you. You will be given a new..." He looks down at my ragged clothes, a sad look on his face. "...uniform." He turns away, and pauses. "Kaito."

"Wh-what?" I squeak.

He turns around. "My name… it's Kaito…" He rubs the back of his neck. "Well, I suppose I'll leave you alone, then." At that, He leaves.

How could this have happened? The plan was to lay low, to stay as far away from Him as possible, not to move right next door to Him. I sit back down and lay my head in my hands. I was so sure that I was closer to you, close enough to break out soon. I figured that they had forgotten about me, that I would easily be able to slip out and find you, but this whole time he had been watching me, and he saw what I was planning. I look up from my hands, and send a glare through the door where He had stood. I won't let Him make me forget you. I will always remember you. There is absolutely no way He is going to win….

Kaito, eh? I close my eyes, breathing a sigh. "Whatever…"

So, notes so far:

Kanshu means jailer

I hope you're enjoying it. :3

There will be 5 more updates! I will post them one at a time, and cannot guarantee the exact dates, but I hope you will stick with me, nonetheless!