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Madness is an insidious disease. We do not see the danger until it is too late. It creeps into the cracks and crevices of the mind and makes itself at home, like carpenter ants in the framing of a home. We do not know the floor has rotted away until one ill-timed step destroys the façade of normalcy.
The third man merely laughs—he accepts his new state of being and does nothing to repair his home. He declares himself King of the Ants, lifts up hammer and sledge, and tears the remaining walls apart with his own two hands. You might think that man the fool. You might think him a harmless, laughing lunatic. It is a mistake that leads to ruin. For that man is the most dangerous of them all.
An undead psychopath to whom she was mildly attracted, but that was another stupid problem entirely.
She was lying there…basking. And it took her a long time to realize why. She didn’t hurt. She was…comfortable.
“Good morning, cupcake!”
“I’m getting out of here. Screw this. Screw you. Screw all of you.” “Careful what you ask for. They’d probably take you up on that offer.” Simon shrugged.
“Don’t call me names, you overdressed crimson pimp. I’m well past my limit, and I’m done taking shit from somebody who looks like they fell out of the bargain bin at a Halloween outlet.”
And something…felt weird, sitting next to him. Like she was supposed to be there. She had always been strangely drawn to him—he was beautiful, even with his wickedness. There was a sultry sinfulness to him, even if he was a murderous psychopath. But something had changed. It felt…like there was a pull.
You can feel it, can’t you? Sitting here with me. You wanted me before, even if only just a little bit. But you were too afraid of me to give in. Now…” He traced his fingers through her hair, tucking a strand of it behind her ear. “I feel it too.”
He might feel her pain, but she didn’t feel his. That was a bonus.
He was standing in front of her…and pointing a gun straight at her. It was her .22 from the day before.
Simon grinned. “Boring!” He pulled the trigger. Bam.
He’d killed her. She was going to die.
“Welcome back, Cora dear.” “You shot me!”
Cora pulled back with the skillet and, with everything she had in her, she swung for the fences. She cracked Simon clean across the face with it. He crumpled to the floor in a heap, holding his face, moaning loudly in agony.
“Get up.” She held the skillet tightly in her hand. “Why, so you can hit me again?” He shot her a glare through his fingers, the freakish color of his eyes shining in the sunlight of the room. She smiled. “Yes.” “Then I’m fine staying right here on the floor, thank you very much.”
“Get out, Simon.” She glared at him. He smiled. “Make me.”
“Wait. The only reason you’re being nice to me is because you don’t like feeling my pain?” She narrowed an eye at him. “Yes?” She put her hand over her eyes and sighed. “Would it help if I said I’d like to do dark and sinful sexual acts to you, as well?” She groaned. “Was I not supposed to say that?” “Points for honesty, I guess.”
“I liked my fish.”
“Other than that? I think I’ve made myself quite clear on the topic of what I would like to do to you.” “No.”
“Why are your eyes all fucked up?” “They are not fucked up. They’re a little strange, perhaps, but we all have our problems.”
“We are what we eat. And I eat a lot. And the more we take, the less human we become. Have you met Clown, yet?” “The one with the skull paint on his face?” Simon smiled knowingly. “That isn’t paint, Cora dear.”
“Although hating me is not a difficult task.” “I can’t imagine why. You just seem so lovable.” “I know! This is what I keep telling people. But still, they persist.”
He reached out and ran his hand over her hair. She shivered at the unexpected touch as he curled his fingers under her chin and tilted her head to look up at him. He took a step closer to her, backing her against the wall. He lowered his face to hers, and for a moment, she wondered if he was going to kiss her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to or not.
When he spoke, his voice was a low rumble, but smooth like velvet. “You need to understand your cage before you can try to pick the lock.”
His mis-colored eyes flicked to her lips, and she was certain he was going to close the distance between them. But instead, he tapped his finger on the end of her nose. “Boop.”
And after that, he could convince her that he was the right person to invite to her bed and let him do—
He wanted her in his lap. Straddling him. He wanted to feel her body— Bad Puppeteer! Bad!
“Do you think you are the only one here who has ever lost anyone? Do you think you are the only one who has stared into the face of a loved one and seen nothing in return? You selfish, foolish girl! I was ripped out of my life. I proposed to my fiancée here in the park, on the carousel. And as the former Soothsayer rammed a piece of themselves into my body, I was forced to watch as her expression of love and devotion turned to one of fear and horror. She looked at me—at these eyes, and she screamed and ran away from me! I didn’t earn these eyes. I was forced to be like this.”
He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin atop her head. He began to hum to her softly, a quiet and melancholy waltz.
“You said you got the eyes because you ate too many people,” she muttered. He chuckled quietly, a rumble in his chest. “I lied.”
“When I wanted you in my lap, I wasn’t expecting this was how you’d wind up there.” “Go fuck yourself with a corn dog.” “Sounds squishy. But I suppose if you’re into that, I’m willing to try anything once.”
When he wasn’t chasing her, yanking her on strings, or shooting her, he wasn’t totally insufferable. He was egotistical, snarky, sarcastic, and utterly self-centered, but he wasn’t miserable to be around.
“Good girl.”
😏
“That’s it…good girl. Ssh…” He stroked her back slowly. “Let them go. Let your old life go.” “I can’t.” “You’ll have to, sooner or later. The Faire won’t give you a choice. It’s just about how much of your sanity you lose in the process.”
“We aren’t friends, Simon—” “Quite true.” “—and we aren’t lovers, either.” “I wouldn’t be so quick to make that call.”
I’m sure the guys’ll go crazy for you.” Amanda winked at her. “They always do love a girl who can put both legs behind her head.”
And when we’re not here, we’re in the Inversion.” “Where do you go?” “It’s really hard to explain.” “It’s a bit of an alternate reality,”
“Dearest Cora, No one believes they belong here when they first arrive. Though you may not feel like it, this is where destiny has chosen you to be. I encourage you to seek happiness in this new life of yours. Should you dismay, you have a Family on which to rely. All my kindest regards, -M. L. Harrow”
Why does everybody get scared of me? And now when I can finally touch somebody, they’re afraid? That’s not fair!” “Wait. Wait. You’re—you’re Simon’s shadow?”
“Cora…Oh, Cora, I think. I think I love you!” He laughed joyfully. A familiar voice broke into her dream. A voice that was already there. But this one was seasoned by rage. “She’s mine!” Her dream broke like a glass thrown against the wall.
Someone was kissing Cora. Someone was in her bed, and it wasn’t him. And that sent him into a rage the likes of which he hadn’t known in a very, very long time.
It hadn’t been anyone else here in the boxcar with Cora. It had been himself. He’d been betrayed by his own shadow. He never did cease to disappoint himself.
Then came the two words that sealed his fate. Whispered, barely audible against him, but echoing like church bells calling him to worship. “Simon, yes…”
“I’m not about to be undone by that broken piece of myself. You can’t possibly prefer him to me. That’s unacceptable.”
Memories of an old horror that she had worked so hard to forget started to break down the dam in her mind. The sensation of hands in the darkness. Of the fabric of a bed that should have been safe, biting painfully into her cheek. Of the agonizing sting. Panic broke over the surface of the wall she had put up around those images in her mind. They flooded back to her like a tidal wave.
“Please, Cora. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” But she didn’t answer. She just kept whimpering, “Duncan, no,” before her short and quick breaths couldn’t sustain her and she fell unconscious, slumping onto the surface of the bed.
Shutting his eyes, he waited. But shutting his eyes was a mistake.
Maybe it was her panic that had done it. Maybe it was the twist of the knife in his heart. Either way, it opened up like a chasm. He loved his darkness. But damn if it didn’t pick inconvenient times to come for him.
Simon was sitting on the floor of the train car by one wall. And he was bashing his head into it. Thump. Thump. Thump.
