Erik's POV

The dream always started out the same… I would be standing in the winter's snow, naked and shivering, my body strapped to a nearby tree. I could feel the wet snow landing on my bare shoulders, and feel my teeth chattering.

"You didn't think I left you? No, my corpse, I would never forget about you…"

When I would hear that familiar voice, I would turn to find my master standing there, his long greasy beard covered in white snow. I would try to get away, but I would never get far, for he always caught up to me. He would toss my body down into the snow as I screamed for him to let me go. I would beg him to let me be, but he would only beat me.

"You will enjoy what I am about to do to you, corpse… You will come to know that this will be the only pleasure you will ever feel."

Usually, I would feel the pain of him taking advantage of me, but tonight, a patch of snow fell from the tree and landed on me, causing me to jolt upward and awake from my horrible nightmare. I screamed and gasped for breath, feeling wet for some odd reason. I looked up at the ceiling and noticed that the roof was indeed leaking. I plopped back against my pillow and tried to remember where I was… It had been five years, five whole years since I had left Paris for good. After Nadir and I left the city on that faithful night, we traveled from city to city in search of work. Sadly, though, no one would give me a job due to my strange appearance and noticeable illness. The poison that had taken over my body left me weak at times and there weren't many jobs where one could basically sit all day. No, the only jobs available were ones consisting of hard labor. I hadn't much money, but I did have enough to purchase a caravan. It wasn't anything elaborate, just a black wooden trailer with a bed and a small kitchen inside it. It wasn't much, but it soon became home. Nadir and I traveled from town to town by the horse drawn caravan. To keep the money flowing, Nadir did an odd job or two within each town we visited. I wasn't sure why, but for some odd reason, Nadir came up with the idea to start a traveling fair. At first I didn't like the idea, for I didn't like talking to people, but it soon grew on me after seeing how many freaks and acrobats were interested in joining us. We started off small, with only two performers, and by the following winter, we were a fair consisting of twenty caravans! We traveled all over the world, my company entertaining the town folk with magic tricks and high flying acrobats. Then, by morning, we would pack and head towards the next town, my pocket filled with more money than I ever anticipated on seeing. My fair was called "The Phantastic Freak Fair" and soon, word got out and my traveling show quickly became world famous.

"Erik?"

When I heard my name being called, I looked towards my caravan door and spotted Nadir walking in wearing his robe. It was extremely late, making it obvious as to why the man was dressed in his pajamas. He rushed to my bedside to examine me, but I held up my hand in protest.

"I'm all right, Nadir," I argued. "I…I just had a nightmare is all."

This wasn't the first time in the past five years where a nightmare caused me to wake screaming. The poison that had coursed through my body left an imprint, one that caused me to see things in my dreams that weren't really there. My master appeared almost every night, causing bags to form beneath my eyes due to a lack of sleep.

"The ceiling of your caravan is leaking," Nadir continued, standing up on the edge of my bed to touch the leaking roof. "You're ill enough without having melting snow leaking in through here."

Without a second though, the Persian man stuffed a piece of cloth into the hole, reminding me that this would only be a temporary fix until we found a town that carried roofing shingles.

"It's still too early for breakfast, otherwise I would offer to make you something. Are you going to be all right?"

"Yes, just go back to your caravan… I'm sure your wife misses your dearly."

Whenever I got the chance to bring Nadir's new wife into any conversation I did so. Nadir always told me that he would never marry again, not after seeing his first wife die whilst giving birth to his son. But two years into our journey with the fair, he fell in love with the fair's fortune teller. She was a tall, young Middle Eastern woman with jet black curls. They had only seen each other for a few weeks before running off to the nearest chapel while we were in Germany to wed one another. It angered me, for almost everyone in the fair had a significant other, everyone but me. There had not been one single soul that had ever glanced my way or had given me the time of day. No, to every woman in my fair I was their boss and nothing more, one that frightened them half to death.

"You don't have to bring Reha into this," Nadir growled. "She did nothing wrong. Goodnight, Erik, do try to get some sleep."

I couldn't sleep for the remainder of the night, not after seeing my master. I hated all gypsies and forbid a single one to ever join my fair. But there was one, one that I had made an exception for. It had not been by choice… If it were up to me, I would have killed the little beast, but Nadir begged me to have mercy. Last year while we were traveling through the small wooded villages of Moscow, we came across a caravan that had broken down on the side of the road. The horses had been missing, making it obvious that this caravan had been raided and the horses stolen. Not only that, but the caravan was turned over on its side and it was charred as though it had been set on fire. Usually, I never stuck my nose where it didn't belong, but Nadir insisted that we stop to make sure everything was all right.

"We're losing light!" I growled as Nadir went in search of the caravan owners. "We need to set up camp before the sun goes down."

But Nadir wouldn't listen to me. No, he went around the back of the caravan and came back a few moments later with a small wrapped bundle in his arms. I wasn't sure what it was until he pulled back the cover and revealed an infant's face! It was a baby, but not just any baby, a gypsy baby!

"His mother is nowhere to be found."

"Put that thing back where you found it…" I ordered. "It is a backstabbing gypsy."

"He is only a baby, an innocent child that knows nothing of who he is. Without care he will die…"

"It's God's way! If the child is without its parent then God will take him. It's better this way."

"Erik, I know that you aren't fond of gypsies, but to leave this child out here to die in the cold is not what God would have wanted. He won't cause us any harm, this I promise you."

I ignored Nadir from that moment on and prayed to the Lord above that the child wouldn't last the winter, but he did… He must have been a little over a year old when Nadir found him, for he was now walking and probably close to three. The boy had no family and the freaks and acrobats of my fair became just that… He learned a little from everyone, spending time with each family. I loathed the boy more than anything, for he was a gypsy and I knew sooner or later he would turn into a cold blooded killer. I wasn't sure what his parents named him, but when Nadir asked me to allow the boy to stay, I forbid anyone from giving him a name. He was an outsider and I was going to make sure he knew it. "Boy" was the only name he would ever know as long as he lived in my camp.

When I couldn't stand to lay there any longer, I wrapped my robe around my body and headed outside into the cold, icy winter morning. After starting a small fire in the ring I kept outside of my caravan, I took a seat beside it and began to make my morning tea. A few moments later, the gypsy boy came walking over and took a seat on the log that was across from my own. He had a patched up blanket wrapped around his body and was watching every move I made. Usually, I tried ignoring the child, and eventually, he would become bored and walk away. He wasn't as afraid of me as the others were, which was something I found to be quite strange.

"What is it that you want?" I growled, hoping this would frighten the boy and he would go away. "Can't you see that I'm busy?"

"I'm hungry…" he whined.

I had been stirring a pot of oatmeal over the fire, the boy's blue eyes fixated on the mush that was inside the pot. I wasn't sure why, but for some odd reason, once in a while, I gave into his wants or needs, even though I despised him. I too, had once been a lonely and hungry child, begging my mother for breakfast. When my oatmeal was finished cooking, I reached for a small bowl and scooped a few spoonfulls of the substance into it.

"Here," I said, handing the bowl to him.

When the boy's hands were around the bowl, I grabbed it, holding tightly onto the piece of silverware until I got the answer out of him that I wanted.

"Where are you manners, gypsy boy?" I snapped. "When someone offers something to you, you must be polite. We say "Thank You." Do you think you could manage that?"

The child looked up at me with frightened eyes and nodded.

"I'm sorry, I'm a little hard of hearing. What was that?"

"T…Thank you, sir…"

"That's better. Now eat your breakfast and scram…"

For a few moments, I watched the child quickly shove down his meal. When the child was finished, he did as I asked and left me alone.

"You gave the boy some of your breakfast…" came Nadir's voice. "You obviously must feel something for the child, otherwise, why would you feed him?"

"I feel nothing for that gypsy," I growled. "He is part of the fair, and I do look after my employees do I not? Besides, he would have sat there all morning if I hadn't fed him."

Nadir smiled. "There is some good in you after all."

"Not enough, Persian… Now enough with wasting time on foolish things. We have a fair to pack up. We will be heading to Romania now, Persian, so I suggest you get a move on."

"Your cold heart is going to be the death of you one of these days, Erik," Nadir warned as he headed towards his caravan. "It wouldn't hurt to be nice once in a while."

I didn't believe a word Nadir said, for it had been my cold heart that has kept me alive all these years. I used to be loving towards a certain angel, but in the end, she stabbed me in the back and broke my heart with her cruel words. No, my kindness had died long ago, and I knew it would never return.

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