A/N: So, some of you might have noticed that I changed the rating on this story to M. The reason for that is the violent and gory nature of this story, which is more fully expressed in this chapter. It's also liable to get worse as the story goes on. Be warned. Language also gets worse in this chapter. The rating is NOT because there will be lemon in this story, because there will not.
Anyways, my thanks go to Arcobaleno-lover, ScarletAnastasia, Yuki-Katase, romance123lover and Lightmoon54 for your reviews on the last chapter! :) Additional thanks go to ZombiesAteMyBrain13, JuviaIce, MeatAndWatermelons, rosella ice, ScarletDragon522 and Ein011 for favoriting and/or following!
And now, please enjoy Chapter Three! :)
Chapter Three – Room 213-O
"I felt a chill, the disappointment that increases…" ~the GazettE, The Suicide Circus
Once again, I found myself leading a man to his death. His crime? Getting a little frisky with his hands while my attention was diverted on a young couple that I had been trying to lure into the Funhouse. And my outfit tonight was even more modest than on previous nights, for goodness' sake! Tonight was especially cold for this time of year. A few days had passed since the night on which He had appeared again, and the nights had been growing progressively chillier. Accordingly, I had busted out my most concealing outfit; a shiny black jumpsuit with a plasticky texture that cut off on my upper thighs and had no sleeves. At least it had a collar that extended all the way up to my chin, and I was able to wear fishnet stockings underneath, which were tucked into my usual black boots. The urge to just turn around and introduce my stiletto heels to the man's nether regions was almost too strong to resist, but somehow I managed to keep walking calmly.
"I know a place where we can have a little more…privacy," I had said suggestively, running my hand across the scum's chest. He'd been only too eager to take me up on that offer, and so now I found myself sashaying down the red-lit hallways of the Funhouse. The man was following uncomfortably close, but there wasn't anything I could do. Yet.
After a painfully long two minutes, I arrived at the perfect door. Those of us who had been here for upwards of ten years knew this building inside and out, so it made it easy to pick and choose which doors would be best for certain people. I tried not to feel too guilty whenever I led innocents to their death—or at best, their grave injury—but when it came to pigs like this man, I was only too happy to give in to the sadistic pleasure.
"Follow me," I said flirtatiously, turning the knob and gliding backward across the threshold. The coppery stench of old blood assaulted my nose, but it was so faint that I knew the man wouldn't be able to smell it. He licked his lips as his eyes traveled to my chest, and he stepped through the door after me without hesitation. As soon as he was through, the door slammed shut behind him, casting us into total darkness. I heard his sharp intake of breath, and smiled to myself. "Don't be afraid; I'm over here."
"You'd damn well better make this worth my time, circus whore," he growled as he stumbled towards my voice. My aura turned frigid as I affixed my steely gaze on him through the darkness. Oh yes, he deserves what he has coming to him.
Taking the opportunity to slip the small vial of eye drops from my small zippered pocket, I tipped my head back and squeezed a single droplet into each eye. Mere seconds later, the room became illuminated by a sickly green light. Or rather, it appeared to be illuminated; the eye drops were special night-vision drops that had been designed for us by the resident apothecary. I was now able to see the disgusting man stumbling closer, his hands held out before him as he tried to feel for me.
"That's right," I murmured, almost to myself, "come a little closer…."
As soon as he was in the center of the room, I quickly scuttled off to the side, where I knew a secret door was hidden. Only those who knew of its existence could find it, just like the back door to the Funhouse. Without bothering to hide my noise, I used a tiny key to undo the bolt and pulled the small door open. After all, he wouldn't be around long enough to follow me through. I heard his curses as he realized that something wasn't right, but it was already too late; he had already tripped the invisible wire that released the wolves. As I slipped through the door, I heard them stalk from their cages. Their claws clacked against the cold cement floor, and I paused to glance back. The man was desperately trying to find a way out, though he had no idea what was coming for him. Like sharks feeling out their prey, the wolves darted past him, brushing fleetingly up against his sides. His panic was palpable as he screamed and jerked around. The wolves' coats were solid black, perfect for blending in. Maybe I should turn on the red lights at the very end, just long enough for him to see his death coming….
"You bitch!" he screamed wildly, thrashing his arms about as if to fend off the wolves. "Where are you?! You will pay for this! You will die before a man ever makes the mistake of falling for you!"
My eyes hardened. Yes, I will definitely let him see their fangs dripping with his blood as they lunge for his throat. Already, I could see the wolves preparing to attack him seriously. There were five of them, and they were all crouched in ring around him. Strings of saliva dripped from their jaws as they watched him with hungry eyes. "Your threats are useless," I said coldly. I could see his head snap in the direction of my voice, but the wolves paid me no mind; even they knew better than to mess with me. "I don't need love. I will never fall in love. And you will die here tonight, so I would save my breath for a final prayer, if I were you."
"Curse you!" he screamed just as the wolves leapt. They staggered their attacks, leaping in to take a bite, and then leaping back to let their brothers have a chance. However, each time they leapt back, they stayed a little closer to him than the last time; they were closing in on him. His agonized screams echoed around the room, and I smirked as I imagined the people outside the door shuddering in terror. Yes, the Haunted Funhouse was always popular…people were rumored to hear the screams of lost souls within its walls, crying out for relief from their fiery prison. Little did they know that they were the screams of approximately eight percent of the fools who wandered into this building in the first place.
At last, as he stood quivering in the middle of the room, dripping blood and other bodily fluids, I saw the wolves prepare to take their final lunge. I lazily reached out to the small switch beside the door. As soon as I saw the alpha crouch and prepare to spring, I flipped the switch. The man's piercing scream split the air as he saw, for the first and last time, the large black wolf lunging for his throat. A moment later, the screams trailed off in a gurgle as he sank to his knees, his throat trapped in the jaws of the wolf. As one, the others jumped on him, and the sounds of ripping flesh and snapping bones filled the blood-red air.
I sighed as I slipped through the door and shut it softly behind me. Now I would have to track down someone to clean up the mess. Thankfully, it wasn't my week to clean up in the Funhouse. As I was running through a mental list of the cleaning schedule to find whose week it was, I stepped out into the hallway and closed the door softly behind me, making sure to lock it. I turned to make my way down the hall, but came to an abrupt stop. A tall man with a black cloak was slowly walking at the end of the hall, looking around as though he was trying to find something. Almost at the exact same time that I stopped, he noticed my presence and froze.
It...it couldn't be, I thought to myself in shock. It's Him...he can't be back here. This was a private hallway that was used by the performers to slip from room to room unnoticed, as it connected to every room in the Funhouse. It didn't connect to any of the public hallways though...so how was he back here? I could only think of one explanation: he had come through one of the rooms.
No sooner had I come to this conclusion than he took off down the hall, running in the opposite direction. His cloak flared out behind him, revealing sleek black pants and black leather boots.
"Hey, wait!" I called out after him. But he had already disappeared. I ground my teeth in frustration and slammed my fist into the wall. What had he been doing back here? And which door had he come through? As I moved down the hall after him, I got my answer—a door on the right was unlocked. We always locked the doors after coming through, to prevent our guests from escaping, so I knew that it wasn't just a coincidence. And that meant that he had somehow managed to not only find the door in the pitch black darkness, but had also somehow unlocked it without a key. The door was old and worn, but from the thin coating of dust over it, I knew that it hadn't been used in a while. Curiosity overcame me as I took a closer look at the door, wondering which room it hid. A small number was etched into the wood to the right of the doorknob, and I stooped closer to read it. 213-O. My face paled as I reread the number to make sure I had read it correctly. Sure enough, it read 213-O.
I leaned against the wall beside the door, my mind racing. I had heard of this door, though I had never been behind it myself. The coating of dust made sense now; none of the performers were suicidal enough to venture into this room. And come to think of it, the door on the other side was also locked, so it was impossible for someone to have just wandered into this room. I also didn't think that any of the performers were still guiding people into its depths, simply because of how dangerous it was for anyone to enter, even the performers. So why the hell had this mysterious man intentionally gone through that door? And how had he survived, without so much as a scratch to show for it?
My desire to know who he was skyrocketed. Anyone who stepped through that door found themselves faced with a hellish carnival of death. A narrow bridge that was about the width of a metal pole spanned the length of the room, the only way across the bottomless pit that extended below. No one knew exactly how deep the pit was, because it didn't connect to the network of other underground rooms into which people fell from other rooms. Rumor had it that it led to the lair of a beast that lived beneath the circus, though no one had ever returned from the pit to verify the rumor. Only the Ringmaster knew, though he certainly wasn't telling. However, the few people who had dared to open the door had reported a stench so foul that they could still feel it hot in their faces, reeking of old carcasses and death. And that wasn't even the worst of it. Even if one somehow managed to find their way onto the narrow bridge in the utter darkness, they had to contend with the spears and daggers that were released from loaded catapults along the walls. If they, against all hopes, managed to make it halfway across the bridge, a single red light was turned on at the end of it, illuminating a door that promised freedom. And if they managed to avoid the blasts of flame that sprang up from the bridge itself, they would discover that the door at the end of the bridge was actually a fake. From there, it was up to them how they decided to die, though most preferred the unknown jump into the yawning abyss. After all, their corpse would find its way down there eventually.
I slammed my fist into the wall again, the frustration of not knowing nearly killing me. Not even I knew where the real door lay in relation to the bridge, so how the hell had this stranger managed to find his way out? It was beyond maddening. I had to know who he was.
Deciding that I needed to share this unsettling bit of news with a friend, I set off in search of Natsu, who was also working in the Funhouse on this particular night. I slipped quietly into a room that contained an illusory pack of lions, using my night vision to navigate the safe path that wouldn't trip the illusions. On the other side of the entrance door, I ran into a group of shrieking teenagers. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, especially when I saw what had them so worked up. A certain fire mage had completely covered himself in flames, and was running towards them through the hall with a wail that would do any ghost proud. Too frightened to notice me, they took off in the opposite direction, screaming bloody murder and crying that this place was worse than Hell. And they didn't even know the half of it.
Natsu came to a stop in front of me, laughing his head off. Ordinarily, I would laugh along with him, congratulating him on his spectacular scare. However, I was still too shaken by what I had discovered. After a moment, Natsu straightened and gave me a curious look. It was odd to see his black eyes staring calmly at me through the wreath of fire around his body, even though it was a sight I had seen numerous times.
"Erza? What's wrong?"
"He's here again," I said grimly. Natsu's flames immediately sputtered out, his face going from curious and concerned to grave and wary.
"But it's only been three days since his last appearance," he said in disbelief. I nodded my understanding, and he raked a hand through his hair. "Well, that is concerning, but something like that wouldn't be enough to ruffle your feathers. Spill; what else did you discover?"
Looking furtively around to make sure that we were alone, I beckoned him closer. "I saw him in the back hallway that connects to all the outlets of the rooms," I murmured. "And you'll never believe this. The room he came through? Room 213-O."
Natsu reeled back like he'd been slapped. "You're shitting me. Please tell me that you're shitting me." My look was the only confirmation he needed; I was still pale and wide-eyed with shock. "Fuck. Where did he go?"
"I have no idea. He disappeared down the hall before I had a chance to follow, and he was moving too fast for me to be able to give chase."
"We have to kill him."
I blinked at Natsu in disbelief. "Excuse me?" I asked, not quite sure I'd heard him correctly.
"He has to die, Erza." Natsu's voice had gone cold and hard, and his face gave away nothing. "He's seen too much. And if he's powerful enough to survive that room…there's no telling how much damage he could cause. He has to be eliminated."
I felt my own face icing over, and the temperature in the hall dropped several degrees as we stared at each other. "We could use him," I finally said. "It would be a waste to let such talent disappear from the earth."
"Don't fight it, Erza. You know as well as I do that it would never work."
"And why is that?" I asked icily.
Natsu sighed, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. "I don't see why you're fighting this so hard. It's not like your hands are clean." He paused, a look of realization crossing his face. "You don't…like him, do you? Shit, Scarlet, tell me you don't like him!" He was veritably snarling now, shaking me roughly by the shoulders.
I angrily slapped his hands away and shoved him across the hallway. His back smacked against the wall, and I stalked slowly toward him, pure predator. "How dare you make such an assumption," I hissed menacingly. Natsu seemed to realize the grave mistake he'd made, for he blanched and held up his hands in an attempt to make peace. "I would never fall for our prey, much less one whose face I've never even seen. And you, Natsu Dragneel, have no power to order me around. Shall I teach you a lesson you won't soon forget?"
Natsu grimaced, a flicker of regret crossing his face. "Erza, I—"
He didn't get a chance to finish, because a new voice rumbled toward us from down the hall. "Scarlet, Dragneel, you're needed in the main tent. Two of the tightrope walkers are out of commission, so you're up." The man addressing us was tall and bulky, his muscles practically bursting from his tight spandex acrobat pants. His muscular chest was bare, exposing a large black tattoo across the left side of his chest. A jagged scar cut through his right eye, and his spiky blond hair was cut relatively short. Laxus Dreyar, the right-hand man to the Ringmaster.
"Yes, sir," Natsu and I said together, knowing better than to ignore a request from Laxus. Even though we had different specialties, many of us were also trained in the acrobatic arts for occasions just such as these, so we had to be prepared to fill in on a moment's notice.
As we followed the large, intimidating man through the Funhouse to the exit, we passed screaming revelers and fellow performers. The revelers instinctively gave us a wide berth, and the other performers nodded to us as we passed. Suddenly, I caught a flash of movement in my periphery. Turning my head ever so slightly to the side, I thought I saw the flutter of a black cloak in one of the side hallways. And though I couldn't explain why, I knew that I didn't want to end such a bright spark of life. I would crack his secret and find out who he was, and if I died trying, then so be it.
Ooh, what do you all think of that? I would be much obliged if you would leave a review, kind readers. ;) And don't forget to favorite and follow this story if you want to be informed of updates! :)
Oh my gosh, it feels so weird to be updating in the middle of the day! O.O It's only 1:30 in the afternoon, and I'm used to updating around 2 in the morning! T.T Such a weird feeling! So if I forgot something, blame it on the early hour. :P It's messing with my head.
One last thing. I will try to get at least one more update in on this story before Saturday, when I'm leaving for a week-long mini mission for my church. And the day after I get back, I will be leaving for another camp, so I won't be able to update for two weeks. T.T So if I don't update for a grossly long period of time, that would be why. :) Just a little heads up! Man, it sucks to have a busy summer. T.T
