Time began to become her greatest enemy. Day by day, she'd sit around, wondering why she was even still alive. Every little part of daily life was so painfully dull…even after she had made up with Marrok, she found herself with nothing stimulating. Being queen was boring, sex was boring, even prospecting no longer amused her. She held no interest in her children. She knew that Channary was seventeen, and Levana ten at that point; that was all. She would hide away often, pretending to play around with boys and wine, although she usually just made bracelets or reread the tattered books in her collection.

It surprised her how easily she fell into a pattern. Wake up, eat, attend court functions with a false smile, hole away, go to parties. It was like this day after day, for the better part of ten years. More than once, she had caught herself toying with the idea of finishing herself. These thoughts were not unfamiliar to her—she knew that she would be the one to take her life in the end. No one in the whole world was worthy of killing Ugly J except for Ugly J herself. However, she had never thought of doing so before she was a haggard old woman who truly had nothing to live for.

Without any other distraction, Jannali began to tear through her old belongings, searching for anything to entertain herself. She came across some old tablets and portscreens that had been buried in her bunker for years. As a teenager, she had used them to research killers and talk to Alegria without anyone knowing—the government couldn't decrypt or monitor such devices, not on the network that they used. Jannali could do anything she wanted on them, completely protected. She wondered if Alegria still had hers.

She managed to get them working—they were always such a pain to boot up—and played around on the ancient internet. It was like a wasteland, having been abandoned hundreds of years ago in favour of the newer, faster network. She had installed a function that detected users on any given site, and there was no one around but her. For several days she traveled through the web, revisiting favourite sites. Old drug marketplaces that had stopped selling anything, archive upon the archive of horror stories, primitive games, and all types of pornography. It was in this way that she stumbled upon a hidden directory, a dark tunnel to an unknown destination. This intrigued her; most blocked access to sites had been deactivated a long time ago. There was no reason for anyone to cover up their tracks in this abandoned cyberspace.

She attempted to crack it, but whoever had set it up wanted to make sure that the contents were inaccessible. She ran a special decrypter that she had acquired for the very purpose of getting into these directories; she didn't like to be kept from exploring unchartered territory. It took hours, but the software eventually managed to display the contents. Inside was a single hyperlink. The program's report told her that the directory was relatively new. Jannali smiled, and she wondered if there was someone lurking on the other end of this hyperlink.

She tapped onto the link and was brought to a very interesting page. It was covered in art of balloons and garlands and cotton candy—carnival music played softly through the tablet's speakers. Jannali bit her lip. WELCOME TO THE MONKEY HOUSE was written in big pink letters. Aside from that, there was nothing else on the page. No links to other pages, no additional information. She cupped her face in her hands. For a while, nothing happened…the site must've been dead.

Suddenly, a little gray box popped up in the corner of the screen. A greeting message had been written inside. Hello, new visitor! Welcome to the Monkey House; the home of all the thrills and chills that playtime has to offer.

Jannali rolled back her shoulders. At first, she thought that it was an automated message, but upon further investigation, she found that there was another person present on this site. Her heart skipped a beat. In response, she wrote, Who are you?

Iam the owner of this site and the ringleader of the circus. A pause. Who are you, and where are you? I don't recognize your IP address.

Jannali chuckled. What circus?

Would you like to see?

Not before you tell me what's in it.

Tell me who you are and I'll grant you a free pass to the next show. If you enjoy it, perhaps you'll consider purchasing a membership to the Monkey House.

Jannali's curiosity was beyond piqued. This person seemed quite adamant that she watch this circus. I am a serial killer from Luna. They call me Ugly J.

A serial killer! I guarantee that you'll love my humble event, Ugly J. Many others like yourself are regular visitors of the Monkey House.

Her nails rapped against her desk. She found herself highly amused by this whole scenario. Very well, I'll watch the show.

Great! I just have to go through the rules with you:

Chatting is free, but the video quality will be reduced since you're a guest. High definition is for members only.

I understand.

Basic etiquette applies. You will have a single warning, after which you'll be banned from the Monkey House.

You are free to leave before the show is over, but your IP will be blocked from regaining entry onto the site unless you are extended a formal invitation to return back to the Monkey House.

We will not be held responsible for any emotional, physical or psychological trauma that you may experience due to watching the show.

Do you agree to comply with these rules?

Yes.

A link appeared in the box and it lead her to a second page. On this page was a picture of a circus big top, its curtains closed. A timer in the corner indicated how much time was left until the event. Jannali had called for a bottle of wine to be brought to her rooms, and she sipped it down while she waited. Eventually, when there were only ten minutes remaining until the start, a group chat window appeared over that of the big top. A bunch of screen names flooded the chat as people entered the room. The majority began to throw around cheerful greetings, as if they were all old friends. Jannali quickly set her own screen name from the standard Anonymous to UglyJ.

IMPRESSIONIST: Does anyone have any tips for acid? I've gotta get rid of this body completely before the cops sniff it out.

GenocideJack: You're bugging me.

1231xx: Just throw it down a well or something.

IMPRESSIONIST: I don't have a fucking well in my backyard, dumbass!

UglyJ: A huge vat of sulphuric acid. This is pretty basic knowledge.

LAdyBUg: Ohhhhh, sassy.

IMPRESSIONIST: What the hell newbie.

1231xx: Oi, UglyJ, how's it feel to be frosh? You probably have no clue what's coming.

UglyJ: I expect some kind of sick torture show.

LAdyBUg: Right on the nose!

IMPRESSIONIST: Where the hell are you from anyway?

12312xx: Probably America. It would explain her pomp and attitude.

UglyJ: I don't know much about your Earthen stereotypes…although that description does match an Artemisian.

IMPRESSIONIST: …Artemisia?

12312xx: No fucking way. A lunar?

Cherilee: Are you really the freaks of nature that they talk about in those old news stories?

UglyJ: You tell me.

Cherilee: You really are way in over your head.

Jannali threw her head back and laughed. Compared to her, these people had no idea what messed up was. Whatever was going to be shown in that show, she had done worse with her own two hands.

She would've said more, but a little tune began to play in the background and the image of the big top had disappeared. In its place was a video feed, showing someone dressed in a circus uniform and a monkey mask standing before the camera. They said nothing, simply twirling a baton. After a moment they backed away and gestured to a table in the background, where a man in a lion mask was strapped down. The man had been gagged and appeared to be struggling.

"Greetings, friends," the ringleader tittered. Their voice was distorted by a filter. "Welcome back to the Monkey House. It's great to see you all again."

The group chat exploded in agreement. All the regulars seemed to be bursting with a contagious excitement. Jannali had to admit that this whole thing was pretty elaborate and interesting…whoever was behind this certainly went all out.

"For the first act tonight, I thought I'd let our guest decide how this gentleman will perish. Let's show our hospitality!" They twirled the baton again. "Ugly J, what will it be?"

IMPRESSIONIST: Our curiosity is fucking peaked.

LAdyBUg: Don't be so jealous. You got to choose last time.

GenocideJack: Please don't take all night to decide. I'm going to explode if I must wait.

She would get to decide the means of death…Jannali wondered if it could be anything. She took another sip of her wine. What struck her fancy that evening?

UglyJ: Slice him open from his forehead to his toes, then take out all of his guts. Empty all of his blood into a tub and then paint the walls with it. Paint something funny, and when you're done, carve a J into his ankle.

The ringleader's head had been turned, obviously glancing at a screen. They let out a roar of laughter. "You're a riot! Does that sound good, everyone?"

LAdyBUg: Not bad.

GenocideJack: Get on with it!

Cherilee: I love painting :D

12312xx: Lunars are weird.

"Nuh uh, no racism in the Monkey House! We've discussed this!" The ringleader hit a wall, irritated. "Just give me a moment to grab what we need. I'll be back soon." They left the camera's view, leaving the bound man, the soon-to-be victim, in plain sight. Jannali felt a strange rush of adrenaline—this perplexed her, since she normally never got any thrill off of watching people be killed by someone other than Marrok or herself.

The ringleader quickly returned with a basin, several knives, and a big paintbrush. They placed the basin right next to the table and came to stand at the man's head. The gag was removed. At once, the man began to scream and plead for help that he must've known would never come. The ringleader did as Jannali requested—they sliced open the skin on the man's forehead and worked their way down, taking great care to keep the victim alive until the very last moment. His cries turned to wet gurgles as he died. His guts were dumped into a plastic bag and his blood was drained into the basin. The ringleader dipped the paintbrush into the basin and sprayed the blood all over the pristine pink wall. It took a moment, but the ringleader eventually moved away to show their handiwork. They had painted a crude picture of a monkey devouring a stick figure; written next to the caricature were the words HE FINALLY STFU. The ringleader carved a J into the victim's ankle and then took a deep bow.

The chat went wild with amusement. This continued on through the rest of the show—in the following acts, a woman was electrocuted in a bathtub, another man suffered death by tablesaw, and last but not least, two little boys were hung by their toes and stripped of all their hair before being decapitated. Once it was all over, the ringleader bowed one last time and laughed. "Thank you all so much for coming tonight! I hope you all enjoyed the show. Be sure to return next week for more of thrills and chills that playtime has to offer!"

With that, the screen went black and the video feed disappeared, replaced with the image of the big top. Most of those in the chat wasted no time in saying their goodbyes and logging off. Jannali sat by and watched them all finish conversation and leave. Eventually, she was left alone on the site. Just as she herself was about to close the browser, the video feed suddenly popped back up. Her heart jolted a little in surprise. In front of her was the circus ringleader, although now, the mask was gone. The ringleader was a very handsome man in his forties, with dark skin and the most beautiful black hair. He had an odd familiarity to him that set the queen on edge. "Ugly J," he marveled, "my name is Navid Ikusaba. I never thought I'd get to speak to you."

Jannali frowned. Have we met before?

"Never, but you are well acquainted with my wife," he laughed.

The pieces of the puzzle slowly pieced together in her mind, just as Alegria wandered onto the screen with the biggest grin on her face. "J, what did you think of the show? Pretty cool, isn't it?"

Jannali's entire face paled with surprise and disbelief.


The crazy woman had left Luna six months ago, Jannali learned. Because lovesick Alegria couldn't stand to be apart from her Earthen lover anymore, she plotted to fake her death and run away to live with Navid in Europe. Sybil's coldness toward her mother only cemented Alegria's decision further. "She doesn't love me anymore," Alegria wept. "She left me to go and chase that thaumaturge dream of hers. What was the point of staying anymore without my baby?"

Navid wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "I welcomed her with open arms, and we got married last month."

Jannali crossed her arms in annoyance. She had activated a video feed on her own end, so they could see the irritation plastered on her face. "And you didn't bother to tell me why?"

Alegria shrugged. "Must've slipped my mind. I've been really busy lately."

"And I've been drowning in boredom."

"Oh, what a sin! How come?"

Jannali blew her hair out of her face. "Isn't it obvious? You know firsthand how dreary court is."

"And what about your little Levana?" Alegria cocked her head to the side. "Aren't you training her?"

Bitter resentment brewed in her belly. "That didn't work out. She's court fodder now."

"That is most unfortunate..." Alegria's words trailed off.

"And don't ask why. I don't want to talk about it."

"As you wish," Alegria chirped. "For my part, with the Monkey House and my new job, I have plenty to do. Earth is a lot more fun than most believe."

Jannali scoffed. "Anywhere would be more fun than here."

Alegria's lips pursed as if she were deep in thought. Then, her entire face lit up. "Well, why don't you come over here? It would be great! We could prospect like old times!"

The air was filled with a tense silence. Jannali pondered the thought. At first, it seemed so preposterous—only Alegria was crazy enough to abandon Luna for Earth, a place so reviled in their country that it was on the verge of being taboo. The more she imagined it, though...the more she began to desire it. She would no longer be burdened with queenship, with the prying eyes of the other aristocrats. She would be able to pursue a whole new career. Best of all, she would be able to murder in more creative ways, when she would be free of the restraints put upon her by Lunar society. On Earth, she could become anyone. On Earth, she could do anything she pleased.

"Navid knows a lot of people in the ID industry. He could hook you up with a new identity in no time," Alegria added. "That's what he did for me. My name is technically 'Majime' now."

Jannali twirled a lock of brown hair between her fingers. It was tempting. So, so tempting. In her usual fashion, the thought began to plague her every waking moment, and it became a crippling obsession. She had to leave. She would go completely mad if she stayed on this barren piece of rock. She knew that the only thing standing in her way was her husband. She couldn't do this alone...she could never go without him, just as she could never leave her favourite axe behind. Over their twenty-two years of marriage, she had formed an unbreakable attachment to Marrok Blackburn, as much as she loathed to admit it. After a lifetime of solitude, he had finally gotten under her skin.

He would not be easy to persuade. He would not be eager to leave his throne or his daughter. Jannali knew this very well; however, she wanted this. And whatever Jannali wanted, she got.

Marrok would be a fool to refuse.