Silence. A carnival without people. An illusion without a mind to devour. Silence. The cold knawed at my finger tips as I walked through the ghostly aisles, seeing dark carts and stands filled with old toys and broken plastic, this wasnt anything like the flyer. I kept walking, like if I stopped moving I would be devoured by the darkness that was slowly creeping towards me, but if I went too fast, they would go faster, and I would've been gone before I left. I turned a corner to find a small box, no longer then my forearm and no taller then a desk. The box gave off an eerie light and felt as if it was made from pure darkness, it had a lid with a snapped lock. I stepped towards it, but they weren't my feet, I picked it up, but they weren't my hands, I was not doing this, this was something that was done on instinct, like it was something as simple as breathing. On the top of the box, there were small, faded letters that were almost unintelligible, it said "Place here a card with thine true name and thou shall recieve a fortune from thine only lord." I was in shock, I turned to find a chair behind me, with a parchment and inkwell that looked as old as time itself, the chair was not there when I had aproached the box. I wrote my name on it and placed the parchment and quill over the box, as I did, the words faded, to reveal the paper as it was before, then, the paper shifted, a deep red glow eminated from the inside of the box, the quill started to dance across the paper, as if an unseen poet was controlling its every move. "The next time you throw a dart, god shall throw a stone, the next time you run, god shall charge, everywhere you go,everything you do, we shall and always have whitnessed your choice..." the paper continued, listing everything of importance about me, my intelligence, my actions, my hobbys, my victorys, my losses, my insecurities, everything. I shuttered as I read this, the paper had control over me, I had read in an ancient story about men who were bound by their actions, and how they were bound by their true names, a name that was constantly changing, morphing to perfectly suit its patron, whom ever knew your true name could control your very being up until the moment that name did not apply to you any longer. This paper had perfectly guessed my true name. I couldn't believe this, I was bound to a desk, I picked up the chair and whipped it as hard as I could at the foresaken piece of furniture. Both the desk and the chair shattered, but there was nothing inside, the only remnants of the desk were its thin outer shell, and a dart. The paper was blank, no writing whatsoever, only directions to an unknown location, I turned back towords the dart, it was gone. I headed in the direction the paper told me to.
I reached the location of the paper, it was a balloon pop stand. I sifted through the prize bin, none of it made any sense. There was a stuffed cat, an broken beer bottle, a bow and full quiver, and a scabbard, the sword inside had the balde of a falchion, the pommel of a cutlass, and the hilt of a broadsword. The guard however, was unlike any I had ever seen, was a perfect circle, it looked like a steel plate, positioned vertically between the blade and the hilt. It was the most beautiful, and most deadly, sword I had ever seen, the blade and the guard were colored a brilliant but dark shade of blue, most likely from the metal that was used to make it. I took it out of the scabbard to see it in action, the sword was extremely strong, light, and flexable, it was most likely made from a mixture of toungston (for strength), nitinol (for flexibility), and tempered to its beutiful blue coloring. It was not weightless, if it was it would be terrible for sword fighting and feel awkward in your hand, a sword should feel as heavy as a switch, not too heavy, but not too light, and should fit naturally in your hand, a sword should feel like an extension of your arm, not a club that you carry around just for deadweight. It suited me perfectly. The sign on the stand said to take a prize for every three balloons you popped. There were three darts on the counter, one for one quarter, I reached in my pocket to find my money, but to no avail, instead, I felt an oblong object with a perfectly shaped flight and pointed tip. I slowly retracted my hand to reveal the black, mysterious dart. I kept the sword on me the entire time. I aimed, I winded up, and I whipped the dart as hard as I could at the wall, it felt like a bomb had gone off right if front of me. As the dart made contact with the balloon, all twenty five balloons ruptured in unison,a wave of heat came from the area the dart hit and was sent in every direction. I would'vebeen blown back by the concusive blast that came next if not for my readiness for the unknown. The dart disapeared again, and I once again felt its preasence in my pocket, then...nothing. the world had gone dark, no light, no sound, no objects, I was unable to move or think, everything that made reality had been lost, I was gone.