A/N: Hooray for updates~! I feel on fire! There's so many things I want to get done before Valentine's Day so I'm scrambling to get out updates for my fanfictions. I'm also working on three one-shots, two of which are Elliot/Leo and one of those two being a smex. Actually, it's - ahem - going to be a hentai. Yeah, you read right. Elly/Leo hentai, not yaoi.

But I'm being weird now, so you'll just have to see that for yourselves later xD -mutilated- It feels weird talking about these kinds of things on this fanfic... In any case, I think I listen to music too much when I write... I'm tempted to write a playlist for this fanfic like I did with Alruna Haunted -ponders-

Well then, please enjoy -bows-

Act VII: Death Box for Scaretales

Sharon didn't have a boxcar like the rest of them, even when Elliot said that she insisted that she be treated the same as the other performers.

"Xerxes wouldn't stand for it," Elliot explained to Leo as he led him into Sharon's small tent that she shared the puppet-master. "They got into a whole argument about it. In the end, she relented and got this tent that Mr. Yura permitted them to have. I'm not mad about it, though, and most of the rest of us aren't either. Sharon has her problems, just like he rest of us. That knife she had," he began, "the one that belonged to the Shorty? She was probably using it to cut herself up again."

The inside of the pinkish tent was dark save for the dirty oil lamp settled on a slightly splintered vanity with a broken mirror. Blotches of blood that forever stained some of the tent, along with the shadowed light, gave the space an eerie feeling, as if Leo had just stepped into the mouth of a monster. There wasn't a bed, but there was a long wooden board covered by a blanket laying against one corner, but it seemed only big enough for one person. Where does that man sleep?

The raven sat down on the stool Elliot gestured at. "Cut herself up?" he asked with a raised brow. Sharon was different from the others in that Leo thought she didn't belong there at all. Her decorum, her movements, and even her elegant appearance gave him the impression she was an upright, aristocratic young lady. He watched as Elliot moved to the broken vanity and picked out a few barrettes from one of the drawers lacking a handle.

"Here, put these on. Your bangs will just get in the way," he said, handing the barrettes over. He waited until Leo followed his instructions and then brought the oil lamp a bit closer.

Leo felt his cheeks grow hot, simultaneously noticing the shadowed contours of the blond's muscles and realizing how naked he felt with his thick hair out of his face.

Elliot nodded approvingly. His hands were on either side of his face then, his fingers tentatively brushing against his glasses. He must have noticed Leo tensing, because he asked, "Can I take them off? You won't punch me or anything, right?"

"It's fine," he consented before he realized the words were out from his lips. His heart pounded, making the room come alive with its fleshy pulse as Elliot slid the specs off. The naked feeling came back, but he told himself not to back down or flinch away.

There was a small clinking sound as Elliot settled the glasses on the vanity. His ice-blue eyes, a softer look in them from the flickering light, looked back at Leo, interest plain on his countenance. Leo quickly glanced away, staring at Elliot's chest, but then blushing and looking at the thread circling one of the blond's ankles before finally looking down at the dying grass. Without his bangs and glasses, it suddenly seemed as if there was nowhere safe for his eyes to look, as if he wasn't permitted to lay his eyes on anything, and things would burst to flame with just a glance.

That's ridiculous.

The sound of a scoff, a disapproving noise, suddenly left Elliot, and Leo turned his head to see what was so unamusing.

"What?"

"Just thinking," began the blond, tilting his head, "of what a waste it is, to cover your eyes like that."

Waste? Leo had to admit, he never heard that before when it related to his eyes. Glen would just go on telling him to keep his glasses on, and most of the others never questioned it. After awhile, anything about revealing his face just became...unimportant. Was there something weird about them after all? In a reflexive gesture, he tried to make his bangs cover himself, only to remember he had pinned them back.

Elliot watched his movements. "I, um... I've never seen eyes like yours before," he murmured, turning to rummage through another one of the drawers.

Panic seized Leo's chest, but Elliot's hand was on his shoulder, calming him down. He allowed himself – no, dared himself – to stare right back into those dream-blue eyes, keeping himself together as the blond gave him a warm smile. It was sudden and so foreign that Leo didn't know how to react, especially as Elliot moved his hand to hook his finger under his chin.

"Stay still," he said softly, so that his voice was slightly lower in pitch. "I've never done this before, except to myself when Sharon was too busy."

Leo nodded, not saying anything as Elliot put some black lipstick on his lips, doing it slowly and gently. The raven tried not to laugh at the face of concentration that the circus performer was making.

"Oh, and about your question earlier," he said, breaking the silence, even as his brows were still furrowed, "yeah, Sharon does that to herself. She'll take knives, glass...whatever sharp object she can find...and cut some part of herself off – her fingers, her hand, her legs... But unlike me, she can regrow her parts. Regeneration."

Leo's eyes widened for a second. He had to admit, he'd seen so many strange and gruesome things before in his life – one of them sitting right in front of him – but he had never heard of a person able to grow severed parts of themselves again. Thinking back, Leo could remember dark-red spots dotting the hem of Sharon's dress – apparently, she had been trying to hide the evidence of hacking away at her own limbs.

The sensation of Elliot's thumb rubbing at the corner of his mouth brought Leo back to the present, in which the blond was carefully making him up for the show tonight. He moved slowly, staring at the raven's lips with a look Leo wasn't sure could be classified as simple concentration anymore. Their eyes met and Elliot blinked in surprise. Just as fast, he turned, clearing his throat.

"Xerxes hates it, but after awhile, I think he stopped telling her to stop," Elliot said, putting the lipstick back in the drawer. He looked back at Leo, considering. "I don't want to ruin your eyes with make-up... Maybe I'll just paint some markings on?"

"You can do what you want. I doubt the audience will care how pretty I look," said Leo sardonically.

"I care," the blond snapped. The abrupt silence that followed showed that Elliot just realized what he said, and was greatly embarrassed by it. All of a sudden, he couldn't seem to stand still, shuffling through the drawers and picking at his stitches. "Gold glitter. That'll be good." He produced a jar of glitter and dipped his fingers inside, softly brushing them against Leo's cheeks and dotting some on his lips.

"If you put enough make-up on, hide yourself in the paint and glitter, masks and bells," began the blond in a husky murmur, "then it sometimes feels like they're not ridiculing you, but this whole other person. I've gotten used to it, so now the make-up is just habit, I guess."

"You're better without it," Leo confessed. He turned his head when Elliot was done to examine himself in the mirror. He looked into the dark pools of his eyes, purple like the shadow of a poisoned moon...shimmering like they already had glitter within them. The sudden basis of comparison made Leo self-conscious.

He went into the slightly open drawer and looked through it, pulling out a small, broken paintbrush. Wet paint was assorted in there in tiny jars and Leo pulled out one that he found to be the shade closest to Elliot's eyes. He didn't know why he was suddenly obsessed with all this blue. A smirk formed on his lips as Elliot raised a brow, gauging the raven's actions.

Without saying anything, he uncapped the jar and dipped the broken brush inside. He turned to the blond and steadied the tip onto the pink cheek. Slowly, trying not to shake his hand, he painted an upside-down triangle underneath each of Elliot's eyes.

"Festive," the circus performer said sarcastically as Leo rained some glitter onto his hair, some catching on the wet paint and on blond eyelashes. "Careful with that!"

"Shut up and enjoy the treatment, you ungrateful idiot."

"You're the one who's ungrateful, because it seems you don't value your life."

"I could've sworn we were past threats..." He felt Elliot's stare on him as surely as if he were being physically touched. The blond was also staring into his eyes.

"Think you'll leave your glasses off from now on?" he suggested with a tilted head. "Maybe not have your hair in your face all the time?"

Leo shook his head, and some glitter fell on his dark clothes. "Not sure. The person I was with before this...told me to always keep them on. I'm starting to see why." His hands came up and, one by one, took off the barrettes and laid them on the vanity. His bangs fell back over his eyes. "I'm so used to people not seeing. I guess it made me feel invincible. You could say it was my own kind of make-up, like you guys have."

Elliot gave him a long, meaningful stare. It startled Leo because he couldn't recall Elliot having ever stared at him with such calm intensity, and he was quickly finding out he had no idea how to deal with it. He twisted his lips in an annoyed grimace, turning his head slightly but still keep eye-contact. "Are you going to blink any time soon?" he said, busying himself with putting the paint back.

"Sorry," Elliot quickly said, looking down at the black-painted lips. He frowned, as if wondering why he apologized in the first place. He let out a long sigh. "I just... I was...so wrong." He let out a breathless chuckle as he put a hand over his forehead. "You are like us."

Leo reached out and tucked his glasses into his pants pocket very carefully. "How do you figure?" he asked in astonishment.

Elliot stood up and headed back out towards the flap of the tent. Cool, late-afternoon air greeted them outside, but the circus performer didn't shiver in the slightest. "Did you know? That we're all born with something missing?" he asked, but Leo couldn't tell if it was rhetoric or not. The blond resumed speaking anyway. "It's what Vanessa always told me, to reassure me during those nights when I couldn't sleep. I didn't know what she meant until I met Lacie, though."

Leo's ears perked up at the name. Lacie. The one he had to watch out for now. He shouldn't be around Elliot right now when he had an investigation to complete in less than two days! Approaching the topic as lightly as he could, he asked, "Were you always with her?"

"She came to the circus only a few months after I did, when I was around six years old. That was when my family discovered that I couldn't die and Vanessa was taller than the ceiling. Lacie didn't have a friend. She talked to no one. If anything, she seemed to close herself off a lot." A small smile played upon his lips. "That was before me and Oz befriended her."

Oz and Elliot. Both had a closer relationship to Lacie than anyone else in the circus. During breakfast, she had been sitting on Elliot's other side, getting up only to talk to Oz. Leo had only briefly noticed her. She was so detached from the rest... Why?

"And...her eyes? Oz told me about them. Were they already like that, or did Yura do something to her?"

"I don't know what I'd do if he had been the one to do that to her," Elliot answered, his eyes narrowing and fingers curling into a fist. "I'd...I'd probably..." His whole body shuddered, the terrible grimace on his countenance appearing menacing.

Leo knew well the feeling burning in his chest. The same thing happened when he thought of what Dr. Atmore would do to the other Baskervilles – his family; or when Elliot told him that he'd allow Yura to touch him, defile him...

"Kill?" he supplied in a husky voice.

Abruptly, Elliot came to a stop right in front of his boxcar, his hand hovering inches away from the handle of his door. His fingers curled, faltering, before finally touching his palm again, a fist that thudded to his side. "I don't care what those people say about us. We're not dangerous. We're humans. I've never...in my life..." He leaned forward to rest his head against the door, and Leo was left to stare at his bare back. "I've never killed someone."

"I have. Many times," Leo said matter-of-factually. He thought back to all the times he cut through people with Jabberwocky, how many times he got rid of yet another Cannibal Marionette. He thought of Dr. Atmore, those doctors... "And not just those monsters. People, too."

Elliot whipped around, and glitter flew everywhere. "Why would you tell me something like that?"

"You said you trusted me. I should trust you, too. That is my secret – I've killed people. For many reasons, some unclear to me." He blinked, slowly walking forward to lean his back against the blue car. He crossed his arms, considering. "The feeling...the first few times, it was horrible. I didn't want to do it. But I had to, otherwise I'd get killed. I don't want to die – once I have that thought, the rest is automatic. Kill or be killed. I got over it. It wasn't hard for me. Know why?"

Slowly, Elliot shook his head. His brow was creased in focus, all his attention on the raven. The look in his eyes wasn't judgmental, though.

He leaned in, peering through his bangs at the circus performer. "Deep down, there's been this madness eating away at me for years. Maybe all my life. Doesn't matter. Each time I kill, that madness eats more of my mind, and it makes me enjoy it." A smile not his own played upon his lips.

"I like killing now, Elliot." His smile widened just a little bit more. "I love it. It makes my heart pound. It makes me feel alive. Snuffing out a life is so easy, because I'm so good at cutting the flesh from soul." A laugh. A hand over his eyes as he clutched his stomach. The laugh vibrated in his whole body, and the madness cackled inside him, high screams echoing in his mind and voice, choking him.

"Abyss... Oh, Abyss..." He slid to the dead grass, crying, nails digging into his face.

Elliot was by his side in a second. "Leo!"

"I want to kill someone. Do you think another CM will pop by tonight? I hope so!" exclaimed Leo happily, rocking back and forth. He couldn't feel Elliot gripping his shoulders – it was a feather touch of an illusion. "I killed a woman and a little boy yesterday. Oh, they know how to scream, even when they're those monsters. The screams are important now, Elliot, otherwise it's not worth the effort. Not as fun – not as fun!"

The feeling of his cheek being split open suddenly roused him. When his mind finally came to its senses, he was laying in the grass, the world sideways. Elliot was next to him on his knees, his chest heaving. He glanced up, his cheek burning from the sensation of being punched. Shame seared his insides when he finally dared to search the blue eyes observing him.

"I...I'm so..." He backed away. Oh Abyss. Glen warned him not to lose it. But all he did was talk about killing... Was he that easily set off now? How stable was he? He shook his head.

The weird one had always been him.

"Don't," Elliot said in a firm, strong voice. "It's fine. You're fine. You're okay. I knocked you out of it."

A blush stained Leo's face red. "Thank you."

The blond shook his head, a relieved breath leaving him. His expression softened and he helped pull Leo up. "It's so funny. Lacie gets just like you sometimes."

"What?"

Elliot looked off towards Lacie's boxcar. "I don't like talking about this, especially since I'm going to without Lacie's permission, but since you're a part of the Clockwork Circus now, you'll find out eventually." Behind him, in the distance, the sun was setting and everything slowly became a bright, bright red. A lot of activity was going on within the main tent, the rest of the freaks milling in and out.

Elliot moved a little closer, giving Leo an unwavering stare. "Lacie's outside isn't her only problem. There's something wrong with her on the inside, too." His hands ghosted over his throat, frown deepening, but still he never severed eye-contact with the raven. Leo couldn't look away either, not when Lacie was being referred to.

"Every so often, a strange hunger overpowers her body. She always tries to fight it, but..." Elliot shook his head. "She can't for long. She never kills people, at least if she ever did, she doesn't anymore. So when she gets that hungry, we get Sharon to come by, thank Abyss for her kindness – she cuts off a part of herself and gives it to Lacie. And then Lacie...she eats the flesh, all the meat and veins, everything down to the bone.

"Me and Oz...we can't ever let Mr. Yura know about this. He'd never allow a cannibal like her. He'd kill her, or worse, abuse her more..."

Leo's eyes were wide. "Lacie is...a cannibal..."

"She knows what it's like, or at least what that kind of violent desire is like," Elliot tried to explain, now fumbling with his explanations. "Please don't judge her. It's not her fault. I don't know what's wrong with her insides, but I'll help her however I can. Oz and Sharon, too. Or anyone in the circus."

"What do you mean by her insides?"

Elliot's nimble fingers moved toward his naked chest, stopping around the center. "I mean Lacie doesn't have a heart. I haven't physically seen it, but..." A sad expression was worn on his countenance. "She's always cold. She doesn't have a pulse. If you press an ear to her chest, you wouldn't hear or feel anything. But I don't think she was born this way. Sharon once told me...the skin over where her heart should be...it's completely scarred."

"How is she alive?" whispered Leo.

At this, the blond shrugged. "How are any of us alive?" he countered bitterly, touching his stitches.

This was impossible. Lacie wasn't dead and behaved nothing like a Cannibal Marionette would, despite what Elliot said about her being literally heartless. Could she really be just some poor blind girl with twisted insides? Leo was skeptical to the idea, but she had been their link to getting more inside information. Demons don't have those kinds of desires for the flesh; they don't eat it. All they care about are hearts. But Lacie hasn't killed anybody, nor has she behaved like a CM. Neither a demon or a monster.

"I don't understand how it feels...to have your mind taken over by something you can't control. I don't know what that kind of madness means," Elliot admitted, looking down. "But I know Lacie knows what you're going through. So if you ever need to talk about it, you should with her."

An opening. And Leo was going to take it. "I think I will," he agreed. An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. He couldn't believe how easily the words fell from his mouth, how practiced his tongue had become in probing out the answers he sought. This role he had taken on for years during undercover missions was like apparel he often wore, as often as he put on the Pendulum jacket. Lacie was someone Elliot cared about, and his mission was to expose her affiliation with the demon. Elliot wouldn't even know he was being manipulated until Lacie was dead and Leo was gone.

Elliot smiled, but it was a small one that still eased up Leo's guilt. He nodded in approval and got up. "You'll be alright. We're all here." He bent down and pressed his lips on Leo's forehead, tangling his fingers briefly in his knotted black hair. He pulled back. "I'm here." He turned around and began walking towards the main tent, promising to come back in a minute.

Instantly, it was like a new kind of madness was tearing at Leo, except this one was clawing its way into his heart. And like all madness, it felt tantalizingly good.

Leo urged himself to his feet, dusting off his pants. Quickly, he thought of how he was betraying Elliot. And just like that, the madness sulked deep within the darkest parts of his being. How many types of madness were there and were any of them good?

The wind rustled his lace and hair. Glitter kept getting in his eyes as he walked toward Lacie's boxcar. He hoped she was in there. If things were going to get settled today, best to do it in private, away from everyone else who was occupied with setting up for the show. He'd end it here. He'd quickly get Lily and Echo and they'd leave.

But this was all only if Lacie could give him answers.

"Un, deux, trois

I'm a doll, a mechanical doll

Wind my spring, then I begin to move~"

Leo stopped walking at the sound of Lacie's voice, melodious and free. He was closer than he thought, or maybe it was just that her voice was carried so easily by the autumn wind. Piece by piece, note by note, his ears and mind listened to her words, trying to register them... What was this weird feeling in his chest?

"Lu~lulu lululu lu~lulu

La~lala lalala Ah~ah

Dance, dance, till this body rots away

Dance, dance, till this body rots away!"

This song...why was it so familiar? Where had he heard it? These words...

"With flexible ball joints

My master's passion makes me walk~"

Leaves crunched under his foot as he took a step back, but it didn't stop Lacie from singing. Gathering his composure, he walked towards her car, extending his hand to glide the tips of his fingers over the chipped paint. It scratched his skin, cutting him.

"Lu~lulu lululu lu~lulu

La~lala lalala Ah~ah

Dance, dance, till this body rots away

Dance, dance, till this body rots away!"

The window was open to peer into, but even more interesting was that Leo saw the door ajar. He went toward it and glanced inside. Lacie was inside, laying on the ground and facing the ceiling. Her hands were reaching out in front of her, her fingertips stretching to the heavens and her hips were rocking. Her blindfold was over her eyes but untied. The more she moved, the more it slid down her face. Her hands and fingers weaved through the air, like she was casting a spell with her words.

Just like the tunes on Glen's piano.

"I'm a precious doll, a mechanical doll

Everyone's passion makes me move

Eventually our springs stop dead

Immobile dolls fall asleep~"

A chill spiked up Leo's spine as Lacie slowly put her arms down, her joints crumbling down like two withered flowers. Eventually her arms folded before her chest like she was cradling something, like a ghost baby was embracing her and she was lulling it to sleep.

Lacie reached up again, so suddenly that her arms stood straight. Her words stopped abruptly, leaving and eerie silence. Then her limbs fell to the ground with a thud, and she lay almost corpselike in front of him. Slowly, she turned her head, her long locks of abysmal-black rustling against her blindfold that fell in a sort of heap on the floor and around her neck. Staring at him were two holes, the eyelids wrinkled where an eyeball would normally flesh it out.

"You're not Oz or Elliot," she stated in a low voice.

"I'm Leo," the raven confirmed with a nod, knowing full and well she couldn't see him but it still seemed polite.

"Forgive my distrust. Blindness makes it hard to live. I like being among what is familiar to me," Lacie said, turning back toward the ceiling of her car. "That's why I stay in here. And I sing because it fills the air and makes me feel safe when they aren't with me."

The steps to her car creaked as he settled himself onto them, waiting to be invited inside. "I have people like that, too. This is the longest I've ever been with people outside Lily and Echo," he confessed. And it was very true. He never had long-term contact during an undercover mission, each encounter lasting about as long as he knew Dr. Atmore. This circus was bringing many firsts for him.

"What was the song you were singing?" he found himself asking. He blinked in surprise at the sound of it leaving his mouth.

"A lullaby," she replied with a vague smile. "One I used to sing to someone."

"Your music box friend?" he offered. When she sharply turned to him, he added, "Oz told me about that when you played your music box last night." As he spoke, he allowed himself to look around her car. There wasn't much of anything within it save for a trunk he was sure was full of clothes. A pocketwatch was laying in between her bare feet, the chain winding around her ankle. On one corner was an oblong object that was covered in a purple sheet. Leo frowned upon seeing it – surely that was something noteworthy...

Lacie suddenly tore his attention away and back to herself. "Yes, that's what this pocketwatch is. He gave it to me. It's the last thing he gave me."

"Your friend is deceased? I'm sorry."

Fervently, Lacie shook her head. "No, not dead. Just...waiting."

Leo's eyes traveled back over to the covered object now that she was distracted again. Almost as soon as he did, he heard his heartbeat loud in his ears. At least he thought it was his own, the sound was so loud that he couldn't tell where it was from. Lacie was still splayed out on the ground.

Gauging her reactions, he slowly asked, "May I come in? I know you don't like me, but-"

"How do you know that?"

"Elliot told me."

She hummed, but there was suspicion evident in her tone. She rose up and made her way to the covered object, settling her back against it. Drawing her legs up, she gestured. "Go ahead."

Trying hard not to look at the empty sockets of her eyes, Leo climbed in. "Elliot...told me about you, you know. About what you go through."

Her lips quivered and she turned her head away. "Brother Elly is getting a bit too talkative," she said, voice shaking.

"He said we could get along," the raven added to keep her calm.

Instead it seemed to have the opposite effect to the situation. "How does he figure that?" Lacie asked, raising a brow, an unsettling action on her eyeless face. Her voice was soft though, unsure but it sounded as though there was hint of hope.

But there was no way in hell he was going to let her know about what he told Elliot. Just then he had voiced feelings he had never put into words before, despite as inevitable and obvious as they had sounded. The only other person who would even guess such things existed inside Leo's mind was Glen. He wasn't going to let Lacie know them, even if he had to kill her in the end.

"I used to know someone that made music, too," Leo said casually enough to let Lacie know he was beginning a new conversation. "Not music boxes, though. But he'd play something for me on the piano when I was little. I've been trying to teach myself for a few years now."

"You won't find any pianos here, though," sighed Lacie, pressing the back of her head against the purple velvet. "No music exists here. Except for them laughing at us. Except for their whispers. Singing makes it go away."

Leo didn't need to ask who she was referring to. For Lacie, who had no sight, the outside world was even scarier, full of people who wanted to torment her but she couldn't even see them. For a split second, Leo almost pitied her. At the moment, she was blocking the way to the oblong figure, so he decided to sit in the corner adjacent to it. He gave it a good stare before looking at Lacie. "What's that you're leaning against?"

Visibly, she twitched. A nerve. A clue. "Something someone gave me a long time ago. I'm taking care of it for them."

"A dead body?" joked the raven with a small laugh.

"No," Lacie deadpanned. "But I do have to take care of it. It's harder when you're blind, but that's why I stay in here. I know everything around here. That's also why I knew you were just outside the car."

"Is it something important to you?" At first, Leo thought perhaps he had been too blunt and Lacie would suspect him. However, his tone sounded considerate enough to pass for a tentative question, and she didn't show that she resented the inquiry.

Her voice was soft, a fleeting dream edged with bloodied claws as she murmured, "If it wasn't important, it wouldn't have been taken away in the first place." She directed her holes-for-eyes at him, and Leo was almost afraid to catch a glimpse of something within the empty sockets. They threatened to pull him in, drag him down to some unknown depths of an abysmal hell and lock him away forever, away from the light because the unsettling holes were so dark. Had she the chance, there was no doubt in Leo's mind that she would kill him – she had the ability to, with or without eyes.

There was something seriously out of place with this girl.

Heart pounding, Leo asked, "What's his name?"

Knowing he meant the music-box maker, Lacie replied, "Jack. Just Jack." She shifted, her dress rustling but her face was still gazing toward him. "I think it's funny. How much you give me the same feeling he does. And it also baffles me," she paused, "that it seems you're hiding something inside you."

There was a resonating clang, followed by scraping sounds against metal and flapping, like wings beating. Startled, Leo looked around for the source of the sudden disturbance. A shadow fell over the two of them, a shadow belonging to a large bat hovering right outside the barred window, trying to get inside. Its wing-span came across the length of Leo's arm, and it had dripping fangs and large, black eyes. A cry like an echoing scream ripped from its throat.

"Leeeeeeo Baaaaskervilleeee..."

The makeshift form of a demon's scythe. His wide, midnight-purple eyes met the evil glint of the bat's beady orbs, and he knew this fact immediately. He ran to stand in front of Lacie, shielding her from the great beast, even as its glare followed only him, even as it screeched out his name again. Without a second more lost, the bat hissed and flew off, leaving behind an eerie scent of rot.

"Wait here!" he told Lacie as he jumped out of the boxcar. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he broke out into a run, following the putrid smell that led him to the forest.

No. You're not getting away. He waited until he was at the edge of the wood before summoning and mounting Jabberwocky. A trail of broken branches and torn trees was left in the wake of the bat. Every so often, it'd cry out his name, egging him on as his skin would crawl with chills.

Who owns this scythe? Surely if he followed it, it would lead him to the demon. There was no doubt in his mind that it would be the very same demon that was manipulating the circus.

One last crash and crunch of wood sounded like a whip's crack before everything fell silent. Leo slowed down Jabberwocky's speed, lightly touching the ground with his foot. The air stilled and time seemed to freeze. There were no sounds, save for the faint rustle of leaves, which suddenly appeared to encase whispers. His cold hands gripped the leathery skin Jabberwocky's stalk, feeling the life of his scythe, the only other presence he could sense. He hovered slowly over to where the path of destruction ended. The branches above him were unscathed, which meant it hadn't flown away.

So it must have reverted back to being a scythe... And if that was the case, then where was the demon? Leo got off Jabberwocky and tapped its end to the ground. His senses heightened, he glanced all around, keeping his ears open as he waited...waited...

"Leo Baskerville," came the haunting whisper, seemingly from all directions. It was decidedly male, but he couldn't remember if he had heard its voice or not, the tone hidden in a static whisper. "I have been lenient with you and the others up until now. I know why you're here and I know you won't leave until one of us is killed."

"I don't suppose you'll be coming out of hiding," stated the raven, an underlying tone of annoyance in his voice. He looked up into Jabberwocky's eye, which was spinning every which direction in its socket, trying to pinpoint the presence. "And here I was told all my life that demon's had a strong sense of pride. Seems cowardly to kill me while you hide."

"I'm not afraid to kill you," promised the demon with conviction. "And I'd do it out in the open. We could fight to the death right here." There was a pause before the voice stated simply, "But I'm not going to do that. It's not within my interests, and so unnecessary."

Leo took slow steps around the forest, still searching with no progress. The damn demon had camouflaged itself well, though he really shouldn't have expected any less. He dug through his memory, trying to remember all the things that Glen had told him about demons – that they were cunning, that they were loyal only to their interests, and that the more hearts they consumed, the stronger they were. All base facts that didn't help him here.

I've never fought a demon before. For a moment, he considered sending Jabberwocky out to get Echo and Lily, but knew he wouldn't last long without his scythe.

"What are your intentions with the circus? Why are you turning people into Cannibal Marionettes?" His tone was strong, demanding. That was good, so the demon wouldn't suspect just how much he was squirming on the inside. Jabberwocky's eye finally settled, and Leo crunched through the leaves in the direction his scythe pointed out to him.

Demons came in many forms. Glen told him in the human world, it was convenient for them to wear a human face to blend in. That didn't mean he'd be seeing a person if and when the hellish creature revealed itself. Still, Leo vowed to take whoever or whatever he saw as an enemy. When in doubt, kill everything, came dark reasoning in his mind.

The demon finally answered. "I'm helping to fulfill a dream," it said softly, as if in a trance. "For the one who gave me purpose. I'd do anything to preserve that dream. And I'm doing everything to make it come true. Killing humans is such a little cost to see it happen, and very necessary."

"Dividing decisions between what is and isn't necessary. That is a very base mindset, wouldn't you agree, Mister Demon?"

"Tough, but fair," it resigned. "But you can say what you will. I have an agenda just like everyone else."

Leo was getting closer, this he knew as he felt a certain hum in the air. It made his chest shudder and heart shake, in danger of shattering. The air felt thicker, like an invisible sheet of darkness had materialized and blanketed him. It nearly choked him to breathe it in, but he pressed a hand to his nose and face and pressed on.

"Well your plans conflict with mine, I'm afraid. What can we do about this, I wonder?"

"You're powerless, Leo Baskerville. The cells of a demon may have granted you certain powers, but they can't hold a candle to what I can do. Even with the others you brought, you would all just die meaninglessly," the demon stated so simply that it sounded bored, like this was a fact it had to repeat often. "It doesn't matter how you try to approach me, you'll all meet the same end. And I don't want the curtain to fall on this opera just yet." There was a childish giggle then, one that made Leo stop. He had heard that laugh before, right? No, that couldn't be it...

With a resolute grip on Jabberwocky, Leo murmured, "Don't underestimate me. I've trained all my life to kill." He began walking again, closer and closer to the source of the foul darkness, of the scent of blood and sex and rotting flesh... It made his mind spin so that he hardly caught the words he received in response.

"With a stolen toy?" the demon asked in amusement. "You've no idea how to use a scythe properly. Because its not yours to begin with. You stole it." The next sentence was said so maliciously that Leo ventured to guess it was smiling. "And you wouldn't believe how many of them down there would love to tear you up limb from limb because of that."

The voice was right at his ear, and he felt the demon behind him. He spun around, slicing Jabberwocky through the air...

But what was in front of him wasn't what he was looking for. The space in front of him rippled like water, like the forest scene was an illusion, and trapped within he saw shadowed faces. Not more than two seconds probably passed with Leo freezing in surprise that the cacophony of screeches and screams started.

"ROTTEN ROTTEN HUMAN THEIF YOU DARE STEAL FROM US WE WILL CUT YOU DOWN WE WILL SPILL ALL YOUR INSIDES OUT AND SET YOU TO DECAY BEFORE US WE WILL WE WILL WE WILL"

The watery surface rippled everywhere, the faces of the demons pressing against the invisible force, their features molding onto the surface like masks. Claws and hooves and talons and hands reached out for him, desiring his death. He could taste their bloodlust, so sour and syrupy like poison.

"Did you know?" came the demon again, his voice inside Leo's head to be heard over the others. "Every thirteen years, upon the day of All Hallows Evening, the line between the worlds of hell and here are thinned even more. All it would take is one little push, and all demons would be let loose. And then, I suppose...everyone would die." As if to illustrate this point, Leo was suddenly shoved forward by a force and into the fray of imprisoned demons.

"HUMAN WHO DARES TO STEAL THEIF THIEF YOU WILL BE TORTURED WE WILL KILL ALL YOUR KIN ROTTEN ROTTEN HUMAN"

Leo fell onto the dead leaves covering the forest floor, quickly scrambling backward with Jabberwocky still in his hand. He was out of their clutches for now. With one last final screech, the air stopped moving, smoothing over until there was no evidence of what had transpired. Leo was breathing heavy, his heart beating fast. The sound of a grandfather clock was ticking and tocking in his ears even though one was nowhere near him.

"It's almost time!" his dream had declared.

The sky had darkened while he had been in this pursuit, and now the moon was visible through the spiderweb network of branches, rising higher and higher...

In the distance, he heard voices, laughter and music. The show must nearly be staring. Ears pounding with the sounds of clocks and hearts and screams, Leo remained rooted to the ground, too shaken to move. Everything was alive, and everything was going to kill him. He closed his eyes tightly, willing the sound of the clock away, but it was only replaced by the beating of someone's heart.

"Almost time," he murmured. Life and death were all around him, counting down the hours until chaos and nightmares took control.

While he could finally gather himself, he heard the demon's voice one last time before it faded into the depths of darkness, "Watch yourself, Leo Baskerville. Because from now on, demons and Cannibal Marionettes alike will be after you and your family, and we'll take no prisoners – only kill."


Elliot and Oz were beside her moments after Leo left. The light feeling in Elliot's chest that had built up when he had been with Leo evaporated as soon as his eyes fell upon the monstrous bat that had attached itself to Lacie's car. He and Oz hadn't reached it in time before he saw the raven chase after it.

More monsters... Why are all these creatures coming to us?

Cradling Lacie to him – who was strangely calm – he admitted to the both of them his worst fear. "I don't think the circus is safe anymore." It wasn't that it had been safe before, but all these accidents and monsters hadn't ever happened before. Something was wrong, very, horribly wrong.

Lacie said nothing, and only murmured, "Don't worry, Elliot. Please don't. It's almost time. Aren't you excited? It's almost time."

Catching her strange tone, Oz leaned toward her, pressing his forehead to hers. "Do you think the hunger will come tonight? They've been..." He hesitated. "They've been happening more frequently. We've noticed, Lacie."

"Of course you would," she replied with a tortured smile. "The two of you know me well."

"Is it going to happen tonight, Lacie?" Elliot prompted, taking one of her hands. She was ice-cold. With no heart, there was never any warmth inside her. Elliot wished he could light her insides like a candle to keep her warm. Over on the floor near Oz's feet, he noticed the silver fabric of her blindfold. It was odd, because she hardly took it off...

The circus singer shook her head. "No. I'm fine.

"Never been better."


Charlotte Baskerville wasn't at all surprised to walk down the mansion halls and find no activity within its cold walls. She knew that the sun outside didn't rouse anyone's want to wake. Sometimes she thought it was because of the fact that they were all Crimson Fausts, and so they carried part of a demon inside them.

Isn't it true demons don't like the light?

She went over to one of the heavy curtains covering the tall lancet windows and parted them slightly to peek through. Outside was the forest that grew around the mansion, like some natural wall. And beyond that, Pandora. The evening sun was bright even through the light-gray winter clouds as it sank into the horizon, making her sensitive eyes hurt.

Charlotte adjusted her focus so that she was no longer looking directly outside, but at her own cold reflection in the mirror. She brought one of her hands up to her lips, flickering out her tongue to swipe across them. A long time ago her deranged father poured the blood of a demon into her cup of juice, and gave it to her. That was when she changed.

Damned by my own father. Charlotte didn't know her own family long enough to remember them well – it was all just a handful of memories that she had accumulated from her foggy childhood. She could resent the man who had done this to her all she wanted, but it never felt right, tossing out the word 'father' like that.

What was a father? Surely if Charlotte truly had one, she'd care about the fact that he had betrayed her.

Then Lord Glen found her stabbing her father to death one night.

Oh yes... Lord Glen was her father, wasn't he? She'd feel that blistering sting of betrayal if he'd ever do anything against her. Of course, there was little that he did that she disagreed with. Everything he did was perfect in her eyes. Perhaps it was just mere reverence for her savior that she felt towards him, for the dark man who hadn't condemned her with his eyes or words, even as she murdered right before his eyes, turning her pink dress dark-red. Somehow though, Charlotte knew that wasn't quite it.

Color flushed her cheeks as she thought about her feelings. Maybe she just wasn't fated to have any parents, but she was okay with that. She didn't need parents to give her a purpose, nor did she need them to find a place where she belonged. Those kinds of things had been fulfilled the moment that enigma of a man cradled her into his arms, as if she were a fragile doll that had been dropped one too many times. Charlotte enjoyed that feeling, though it seemed at odds with her personality that the others were familiar with.

Her hands smoothed over the formal, bright-red dress she wore. Nowadays, she rarely dressed up because she would have to go out and travel somewhere to take down Cannibal Marionettes. Charlotte didn't mind the work, because Lord Glen willed it, and he always seemed somehow relieved when she and the others would come back from a completed mission. That was enjoyable, too – the fact that someone she cared for was waiting for her bloodied self to return.

So she permitted herself to wear the dress that evening. She glossed her lips with a modest shade of pink and tied her hair back with flowers and butterfly pins in the colors of red and black. If she asked nicely, she wondered if Lord Glen would permit her to spend some of the night with him, maybe watch him play like an ethereal god on his piano, see one of those upturns of lip that he allowed only too rarely...

Smiling softly to herself, Charlotte looked back out at the bright orb of the sinking sun. It hit the forest intensely, blazing it with its welcoming light and catching it on fire.

Charlotte's content expression suddenly fractured. No, wait.. No! The curtains flew as she tore herself away from the window and ran down the corridor, her heels thudding in the carpet.

"Lord Glen! Lord Glen!" she cried in alarm, her voice suddenly rousing all the attention in the mansion. She picked up her skirts to run faster, thinking of how inconvenient they were as she bounded for her master's room. "The forest is on fire! Something's wrong, Lord Glen! There's a fire! A fire!"


Ending A/N: I wonder if too many things happened in this chapter. I do hope nothing is confusing. But if so, like I've said, don't be afraid to ask me anything~ :D I shall gladly answer. Credits for the translation of the song Lacie was singing goes to motokokusanagi2009 on Youtube. The song is called "Ball-Jointed Dolls" by Hatsune Miku and MEIKO.

All this mystery is such a hassle... I almost forgot to mention the whole Lacie-being-heartless deal OTL So the demon had made its appearance. Any idea who it could be~? (I hope not, as an author I want to keep you guessing~)

So comments, concerns, and critiques will gladly be accepted in the form of a review :D But no flames. Hitsugi no like those :X