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The main event—the Halloween Harvest of Chaos, Carnage, and Contentment—will be unlike anything we’ve ever done. A true night of purging, where everyone who steps under our big top will become fair game.
I want to feel you come apart. Give me your demons, my queen.”
“You still taste like the most forbidden fruit—something I could savor endlessly, even if it means damnation. Every fucking drop of you is a delicious sin I’d gladly indulge in for eternity.”
In this moment, she’s not just a queen—she’s the queen of my circus, the queen they need, the queen they deserve. My fucking queen.
This is what I’ve created—what I’ve allowed. The depths of human desire, the raw, unfiltered brutality of their cravings, it’s all laid bare before me. I am their Dark Queen, the one who holds the reins of their pleasure and pain. And tonight, I’ve seen just how deep the darkness can go.
It’s a carnival of cruelty, and the audience is lost in it, reveling in every sick, depraved moment.
“Do you feel them watching, Indie?” His voice is low, rough with lust. “They’re all desperate to be you right now. To have what you have. They fucking envy you. The Dark Queen of Cirque Du Desir.”
In this moment, nothing else matters but her. I’m a sinner through and through, and the way she moves against me—teasing, effortless—is my salvation.
“They don’t have a clue what they’ve unleashed. We’re not performers tonight—we’re fucking nightmares. Monsters, bred to protect our own. No one touches one of us and walks away. Not tonight. Not ever.”
This is where I belong, in the eye of the storm, where darkness and desire collide.
When the skin finally comes free, slick and dripping, Lux stretches it over his own face, smoothing it down like it belongs there. He turns to the crowd, now wearing that twisted, bloody mask with his arms spread wide. The sight of him, his eyes gleaming through another man’s face, is both horrifying and fucking magnetic.
“He’s lucky to leave this earth with the taste of you on his tongue,” Lux breathes, his voice rough with need. “To know how sweet your juices are as he takes his final fucking breath. Thats how I plan to leave this world too, buried deep between those perfect goddamn thighs of yours.”
The havoc I craved—yeah, it’s here—but it’s teetering on the edge of something even my demons don’t like to fuck with. Fire.
With a final glance at the fire, I turn my back on the world we’re leaving behind for the winter. We created a world of pure depravity, and burnt to the ground in one impressive final act. It was everything we promised, and more. It was the most perfect fucking madhouse. Our Maison De Fous.
