Welcome back, readers, and HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I've been looking forward to being able to engage with this wonderful audience again and am SO happy to be back with a sequel to The Man Behind the Slaughter. I hope to be able to produce work of the same caliber (or better) with Circus of Souls. On another note, I've got some social media accounts where I'll be posting updates, fanart, and some... other surprises *cue sneaky wink*. I'm now on Twitter, Instagram, and Deviantart, all under spideyfreakradio. And a YouTube channel, where some fun content will be making an appearance, haha! Also, if you'd like to view the cover page better, head to Archive... FanFiction and I aren't the best of friends some days. Lol. Well anyway, without further adieu-
Welcome to the CIRCUS OF SOULS!
July 12th, 1983 - 5 days until the party
Evan's inhale sputtered roughly as he rocked on his heels, arms wrapped tightly around his knees. He tried to steady his breathing, trying to find rhythm in his rocking, trying to ignore the fear eating at his mind.
What did he do this time?
The voice echoed in Evan's head, not quite loud, but not a whisper either. He didn't answer as a shuddery exhale sent a shiver through his body.
He locked you in your room again.
The voice answered for him. It knew just as well as he did what his brother had done to him again. It didn't need to ask.
A barely audible, high-pitched whine continued buzzing somewhere outside his door, adding to the chaos running madly through the boy's mind. But he wouldn't open his eyes.
Don't be scared. I am here with you.
It wasn't exactly an order Evan could follow. He knew what would be lurking in the dark corners of his room if he opened his eyes, and their mere presence made him terrified. But the voice was a rooting force, so he focused on it, trying to calm himself.
Tomorrow is another day.
July 13th, 1983 - 4 days until the party
You know he is hiding again.
Evan didn't disagree, but he wanted to. His brother had to be around here somewhere, and the last thing the boy wanted was to come across him, especially on Michael's terms. Evan's fingers twisted with the end of his shirt, anxiously kneading the fabric in his little hands. The grandfather clock outside the boy's room ticked, only adding to the growing dread spreading within him.
He won't stop until you find him.
No, that wasn't wrong either. Evan cautiously walked around the edge of the wall, eyes searching diligently for any sign of his older brother. Nothing, so far. But he didn't trust his eyes; his gut told him something wasn't right. Limbs absurdly tense, Evan began timidly walking into the living room, making his way past the couch.
Suddenly, the boy crashed to the carpet as a blur of red entered his sight, rows of yellowed, drooling teeth among it as a roar burned his ears. Evan screamed, tears already springing from his eyes as he collapsed on top of himself, curling up defensively on the floor. Growls came from the monster above him, only making the boy cry harder before they turned to adolescent laughs.
"Hahaha, Evan, you're such a twerp," Michael teased, no hint of kindness or remorse in his voice as Evan struggled to control his hyperventilating. The boy opened his eyes, blurrily looking up to see a fox mask aimed down at him. A shudder ran down his spine. It wasn't as terrifying as the maw he had seen moments ago, and he felt a twinge of frustration as he looked at its plastic, cartoonish shell. It was nothing to be afraid of.
He sighed, swallowing as a noticeably high-pitched noise died away. He hadn't registered it until it left, but that was probably a good thing as it surely would have added to his now-present headache.
Evan jumped as a loud click and whir resounded in the room, a flash momentarily illuminating where he lay on the ground.
Beth let out an annoyed sound, peering at the photo her camera produced as she emerged from her hiding place around a hallway wall. "Mike, make him do something interesting," she whined. Michael looked down at his brother and smirked. "C'mon wimp, you heard the lady. Do a little dance or something."
When the boy didn't make any response to Michael's order, he kicked at the child's foot roughly, causing Evan to jolt and curl further into himself. "Don't be boring Ev," the teenager mocked. "Yeah, Evan, come on," Beth crooned. The boy refused to elicit a reaction, keeping his eyes shut tight as the two teenagers tried to goad him.
"Ugh, this is boring. He's not gonna do anything. C'mon Mike, we're going to Brian's house," Beth drawled. The boy listened to the two leaving the room as well as a "See you later, twerp," from Michael, waiting until he could hear the front door open and close. He tentatively opened his eyes, grateful to see no one else in the living room.
Evan took a deep breath, shakily getting off the floor as he caught sight of a Golden Freddy plush on the arm of the couch. It looked back at him with its plastic eyes, though there seemed to be something so alive about them. He could practically see it open its mouth as it spoke in his head.
Tomorrow is another day.
July 14th, 1983 - 3 days until the party
Evan's face burned on the rough texture of the carpet beneath it as he cried quietly under one of the many tables in the dining room. He tried not to look forward to the stage where those dreaded creatures were still performing.
He left without you.
He knows that you hate it here.
That was true. Evan's father wasn't anywhere in sight... the boy didn't know why he was left alone with those things-the man knew how terrified he was of them. And yes, his brother and sister had no issue with them, so to his parents, there was no reason he should be so afraid. And yet he was.
You are right beside the exit. If you run, you can make it.
Evan's attention turned to the doorway ahead, and he considered his options.
Hurry, run toward the exit.
The voice urged. Evan stood, somewhat disoriented from sobbing on the floor, and accidentally stumbled a few steps toward the stage.
NO! Don't you remember what you saw? The exit is the other way! Hurry and leave.
The voice, also recognizing the danger of proceeding in the boy's current direction seemed to pull his mind backwards to the glass doors behind the table. Evan nodded to himself, eyes glaring at the animatronics on the stage in fear, not wanting to let them out of sight until he was safe and away from the restaurant.
As the boy began backing away, he felt himself bump into something soft. He whipped around to see a mascot Fredbear and he stifled a gasp, putting a hand to his mouth as he scurried back a few feet, only stopping in knowledge of what lay just a few yards behind him. Evan began to panic when the voice came back in his head.
It's too late. Hurry the other way and find someone that will help! You know what will happen if he catches you!
The boy swallowed, trying painfully to keep the urge to cry at bay. His eyes turned fearfully to the wall where the shadows of the performers lay, perfectly mimicking their corporeal counterparts. He refused to look at the robots themselves.
You can find help if you can get past them. You have to be strong.
Evan caught a glimpse of his father's office just down the hallway. He'd be safe there.
The boy shakily began approaching the stage when a furry hand rested on his shoulder. Fearing the worst, he turned, and only recognizing that what had grabbed him was another one of those... things, his knees became weak and he fell to the ground. He sobbed, curling into himself, not able to hear the mascot employee trying to help him.
Tomorrow is another day.
July 15th, 1983 - 2 days until the party.
He hates you.
No. You can't hate your own brother. But if Michael didn't hate him, why did he treat him this way?
You have to get up.
Evan shook his head. He didn't want to move. As far as he was concerned, under the table was the only real safe place in this building. He wasn't leaving-when he tried yesterday, it was only one disaster after another until his father had to rescue the boy and cradle him like a baby all the way home because those little fingers on the man's shirt just wouldn't let go.
Michael teased him for that. Little baby Evan couldn't let Papa Bear leave him for more than five minutes before crumbling into an emotional breakdown.
You can get out this time, but you have to hurry.
The boy let out a shuddery sigh, wiping his wet eyes as he put one hand on the carpet to steady himself. Was he really doing this?
Evan braced himself on the floor and pushed himself up, grabbing the table to steady his small frame. This time, he sprinted as fast as his wobbly, shaken body could take him. He ran past tables, balloons, and scattered chairs straight to the exit, pushing the door with more force than was necessary until he was finally outside.
The boy nearly cried in relief. Okay, so that went better than yesterday. Way better. As he caught his breath, he saw a little girl waving from the parking lot.
"Where is your plush toy? Mine is Spring Bonnie," the girl called, showing off her little puppet. Evan approached cautiously, limbs tense as he made a quick glance behind him to make sure none of the robots were following him out of the restaurant.
"My Daddy says I have to be careful with him or I will pinch my finger," she spoke, attention on adjusting the toy's floppy rabbit ears. "He is a finger trap, he says," the girl continued with a light laugh, showing him a closer view of her puppet. Evan noticed how the plush resembled his father's performing costume, just without the purple bow-tie.
"Oh..." he trailed off, voice still broken-sounding from his crying. "It's cool. Um... bye," he finished awkwardly, giving a minimal wave as he began to walk away. The girl didn't seem to care much about his departure, attention focused on her toy, but she waved good-bye anyway.
Evan continued walking along the sidewalk, passing fences as he started on the route home. His eyes had been focused on the stone in front of him as he was still feeling quite anxious, but when he stole a glance upward, he had wished he hadn't. Just a few feet ahead was a rather obnoxious girl from his kindergarten. And as always, she seemed very eager to talk to him.
"You'd better watch out! I hear they come to life at night," she said as he began passing her. Not knowing what she was talking about, he continued walking, hoping she'd get bored and leave. But she didn't seem very perturbed.
"And if you die, they hide your body and never tell anyone," she chatted rapidly, raising her arms up as she hurried to walk beside him. Evan stopped, eyes widened as he turned his head to stare at the girl.
"Why do you look so worried? See you at the party! Ha ha ha!" She laughed, turning on her heels to run back to where they had first crossed paths. The boy glared at her as she left.
Yeah, maybe the idea of something killing you in the night was funny to her, but it sure wasn't to him. That fear was all too real for Evan. He huffed, wrapping his arms tighter around himself as he turned a corner, following the sidewalk.
As he walked, he was too preoccupied in his thoughts to notice the boy sitting on the grass beside him. "Aren't you the kid who always hides under the table and cries?" He called, cupping a hand around his mouth. Evan gasped, looking behind him to see the boy laughing.
"Hahaha! No one else is scared! Why are you? Stop being such a baby!"
Evan turned his gaze back to the ground and quickened his pace, not wanting to hear anymore of the kid's taunting. He didn't need more of that, especially right now... if he wanted to be teased, he'd just ask Michael. Speaking of which, he hadn't seen his brother in a while. Where was he?
"Are you going to the party? Everyone is going to the party," another voice said, interrupting Evan's thoughts. He looked up to see a large boy standing in the gutter, holding a bright pink balloon. Evan recognized him as a kid who lived just a few doors down from him, but he didn't know the boy well.
"Oh, wait, you have to go! It's YOUR birthday! Haha!" He laughed, his broad shoulders shaking. Evan supposed that was true. But that didn't mean he wanted to go. He continued forward, eyes lingering on the boy absorbed in his own laughter as he quickened his pace home.
As Evan entered the house and walked, relieved, into the living room, he caught sight of his Golden Fredbear plush perched on the couch. He raised an eyebrow in confusion... the bear seemed to be looking at him in warning.
Be careful.
Be... careful?
Evan acknowledged the warning and timidly started down the hallway to his bedroom. As he exited the living room, his eyes moved to the grandfather couch where Fredbear now sat, his white eyes following the boy's movement observantly. Small comfort.
Ever so slowly, Evan passed through the doorway into his bedroom, taking baby steps to the center of the space. As he walked, his heartbeat intensified and grew more and more rapid, hairs standing on his neck in suspense. But he couldn't see a threat.
The boy took another cautious step forward, but at this one, a strong hand wrapped around his ankle and Evan screamed; his attempt to get away instead dragging him to the floor. As he slammed into the carpet, his eyes met the ones of a gruesome monster creeping out from under his bed. His screams intensified, he couldn't breathe, and he didn't know how long he laid on the floor in his terror-ridden state as his brother attempted to calm him, all the while Fredbear looked down from the bed solemnly.
Tomorrow is another day.
July 16th, 1983 - 1 day until the party.
"Please let me out," Evan cried, pressing his small hands to the door's cold metal. He knew Michael was out there, probably laughing at his misery while the boy kept his eyes averted from the skeletal pieces of robot strewn about the room behind him.
No sound of affirmation.
"PLEASE!" The boy pleaded in agony, slamming his fist on the door. He wept ferociously, pressing his face to the metal as tears fell generously over his cheeks. He sobbed, his strength faltering as he weakly tried to bang on the barrier again... he knew it was futile. Evan slumped to the floor, weeping.
"...please let me out..." he whimpered, his voice dipping to a whisper. All the while, the animatronic parts stared at him from behind, their gaze cold while the boy lay in a fear-filled, heartbroken mess...
Later that night...
Evan breathed heavily, clutching his flashlight for dear life. He extended a quaking hand around his bedroom door and timidly shone it down the hallway. He gasped as he saw a bluish figure duck behind a wall. The boy pulled back inside, pressing his back against the dresser, feeling himself begin to hyperventilate. He cautiously looked outside to the grandfather clock directly ahead... just a few more hours until Dad would be getting up. He'd be safe then; he just had to last until six o' clock.
The boy leaned into the dresser, cocking his head up while he tried to catch his breath. In... and out. In... and... out. He exhaled, his heart finally beginning to calm...
This whole thing he'd been doing every night the past few weeks... it was insane. He couldn't keep doing this, especially not when the monsters lurking in his home were becoming more and more aggressive. And especially not when his parents couldn't find any trace of them to believe him.
He couldn't keep avoiding them.
Evan swallowed once, eyes dipping closed... he was so tired. He just wanted to go to bed and sleep and have pleasant dreams so he could rest. All he wanted...
Suddenly, a shifting sound from across the room made the boy's eyes shoot open and his heart to jump painfully in his small chest. Evan slowly turned his head to his closet, where one of the doors was now slightly ajar. It certainly wasn't like that a minute ago. The boy's chest began to rise and fall more quickly as he gradually turned the light to its opening. The glint of a claw winked back at him, made clear through five metal fingers that each came to a knife-like point dragging on the dark carpet.
Realizing what he was seeing, Evan's eyes widened as he subconsciously felt his way to the door. His ears perked at the sound of a low growl emitting from the closet, and he watched as a long metal tongue snaked from the door.
A ragged fox-like figure poked its jaws from the darkness, a singular burning yellow eye staring straight at Evan. He felt frozen. Suddenly, the creature leapt from the closet, claws reaching for the boy and he screamed, finally finding the strength to run from the room.
The flashlight's beam was scattered, but it caught a blue rabbit coming out from around a hallway corner as Evan dashed from his room. It attempted to block his path, its huge hands reaching for the boy as he ducked from its grasp and sprinted toward where his parents slept, tears flying from his eyes.
He didn't look back, but he knew if he breached the threshold of the bedroom, the monsters would not follow. A hallway mirror reflected a tattered bird and a massive bear pursuing him, the rabbit and fox not far behind. Evan's eyes widened and he forced himself to go faster until, finally, he pushed his way into his parent's room and slammed the door behind him.
The boy just pressed his back against the barrier between him and what he knew was outside, staring at the ceiling as he struggled to regain his breath, shaking to the point where he could barely stand.
"Evan?" A woman spoke from within the room. "Mama," the boy cried in relief, tears once again springing from his eyes as he rushed to the bed.
"What's going on?" A deep voice questioned, somewhat rough from its previous slumber as Evan climbed into his mother's arms. The boy only sniffled, trying to find comfort in the woman's embrace. "Sweetheart... did you have a nightmare again?" She asked gently, cradling his head.
He stilled. He wasn't going to tell them that monsters were roaming the house again. He didn't want them to think he was crazy.
Evan nodded.
"Oh dear... I'm so sorry darling," his mother sighed, pressing a kiss to the boy's temple. "C-Can I... stay with you?" Evan questioned hesitantly.
"Of course," the woman answered, giving him a gentle squeeze. "I'll go make you some warm milk to help you sleep," she said, beginning to pull from the bed. The child clung to her tightly, like if he let go he'd be in danger again, and she began to make some assurance before he felt large hands take him from under his arms.
"I've got him," his father spoke softly, drawing the boy toward him. At his touch, Evan relinquished his grip and the woman left the two, approaching the closed door. He felt himself being set in his father's lap, large arms wrapping around him in a protective hug and the child felt himself finally beginning to relax for the first time that night.
"Mike?" Evan suddenly heard his mother question as a stream of light entered the bedroom.
"I heard screaming and Lizzy's awake now," the teen replied tiredly. "What's going on?"
"Evan's been having nightmares again," his father answered from above the boy, his low voice sending vibrations through his chest and against Evan's cheek as he pressed himself closer to the man. "Which I'm sure," he continued sternly. "Hasn't been helped by your childish games."
The boy suddenly felt quite awkward as Michael cleared his throat nervously. "They're not that bad, Dad..." the teen trailed off. Evan frowned at that, eyebrows furrowing. His brother knew the breakdowns he'd caused... he knew to some degree what he was doing. They both knew he was lying.
"If they're not that bad, your brother wouldn't be suffering from chronic nightmares. You know he doesn't watch scary movies, Michael, and you also know how much he hates to be frightened, I doubt there's another external force contributing to this. But if you have other ideas, please enlighten me," his father continued dangerously, tone indicative of his vexation. He obviously had some clue as to what was really going on.
"No... sorry, Dad," Michael spoke quietly. If he'd had a tail, Evan was sure it'd be tucked between his legs.
"Mike, why don't you go tuck your sister back in..." Clara murmured.
"Okay." The boy replied monotonously. Evan listened to the two leave the room, each moving to complete their designated tasks while he relaxed in his father's embrace. For a minute, the two sat in silence before he felt a calloused thumb brush over his cheek.
"You've got such dark shadows under your eyes..." his father murmured soberly, gently running his hand over the boy's face. "You haven't been sleeping like you need to."
Evan didn't reply as a frown pulled at his lips. He felt the grasp on him tighten comfortably, the fingers moving to run through his hair soothingly. "You'll have to forgive your brother... he doesn't seem to know what he's doing," his father spoke, his voice rumbling lowly through his chest. "I don't think he understands how he's really treating you."
The boy nodded slowly. There seemed to be validity to that statement, or at least, a shadow of it. He could remember even a year ago when Michael didn't play these "games" with him. That was before he made all those new friends, when he still made time to play nicely with the boy. Evan missed those days terribly.
"Oh... would you look at that," the man said, interrupting the child's thoughts with a chuckle. "It's four-twenty. Sunday, now. Know what that means?"
Evan looked up at his father who had a playful expression on his face. He cocked his head in confusion.
"I believe my little boy has just gotten a year older. Happy birthday, son."
Evan's eyes widened slightly. He'd almost forgotten about his birthday... six. What a big number. At the boy's awe, the man chuckled, chest moving in accordance with his laughs and he couldn't help but smile. It was the first time he'd smiled in a long time... and he had to admit, it felt good.
"Is he still awake?" Evan heard his mother speak, the light from the hallway disappearing as the door closed. "Sure is," his father replied.
"Alright," the woman said, coming around to their side of the bed. The boy felt a warm mug being pressed gently into his hands, followed by a kiss to his brow. "There you are, sweetheart," she whispered quietly.
Evan didn't pay much more attention to the two of them as he brought the cup to his lips, allowing the warm drink to run comfortingly down his sore throat. He didn't quite finish it as his eyelids began to droop, and he felt himself slump further onto his father's chest. The mug was suddenly absent from his hands, but he didn't mind. All he knew was that he was finally getting to rest for the night.
"Goodnight, Evan."
"Sleep well, son."