Circus of Horrors is Not Just About Scary Clowns...!

99 cents NOW thru July 10

"DON'T BE FOOLED INTO THINKING THIS IS A ROUTINE, RUN-OF-THE-MILL, CARNIVAL SCARY.

NOTHING ROUTINE HERE! CIRCUS OF HORRORS is a very special story, and I'm glad it introduced me to author Carole Gill, an exceptionally talented writer."

Scary clowns are fun to write about, but I write character-driven horror. The characters in this novel and all my novels are motivated by their own experiences. They might have an agenda, a mission, as the character, 'good old carny,' Joe has. And boy what an agenda that is!

The clowns are murderous because of their childhood abuse they suffered. Each performer in Fred Dodger's sideshow has suffered and that suffering has made them what they are. Joe comes along and seems to know their secrets, all of their secrets. He even knows why Old Pa, Fred's dad, keeps a certain box close to him.

Creativia has put this book on promotion for a short time beginning now. If you like really dark, gut-wrenching horror that has a point, this is for you!

“This is horrific in the best way! It is extreme ... and disturbing!"

"Riveting. Imaginative. Chilling. Fantastical."

"Wonderful horror with a side order of ribs."

"Outstanding story line and strong characters. I felt like I was right there and a part of the sideshow.

"An awesome little creepfest!"

"Never going to the circus again!"

"True horror!"

amazon 

CIRCUS OF HORRORS 99 CENTS! OCT 5 - 11! IT'S NOT JUST SCARY CLOWNS!

Scary clowns are fun to write about, but I write character-driven horror. The characters in this novel and all my novels are motivated by their own experiences. They might have an agenda, a mission, as the character, 'good old carny,' Joe has. And boy what an agenda that is!

The clowns are murderous because of their childhood abuse they suffered. Each performer in Fred Dodger's sideshow has suffered and that suffering has made them what they are. Joe comes along and seems to know their secrets, all of their secrets. He even knows why Old Pa, Fred's dad, keeps a certain box close to him.

Creativia has put this book on promotion for a short time. If you like really dark, gut-wrenching horror but that has a point, this is for you!

“This is horrific in the best way! It is extreme ... and disturbing!"

"Riveting. Imaginative. Chilling. Fantastical."

"Wonderful horror with a side order of ribs."

"Outstanding story line and strong characters. I felt like I was right there and a part of the sideshow.

"An awesome little creepfest!"

"Never going to the circus again!"

"True horror!"

AMAZON

FREE READ! This Story Inspired Circus of Horrors!

Here's the short story that inspired 'Circus of Horrors!'

GRAPHIC VIOLENCE! 

 WEIRDEST SHOW ON EARTH!

“Tell me somethin’, do you ever get nightmares, you know. About stuff, Hank?”

Hank was fixing his bow tie. He was only three and a half feet tall but when he was dressing for a show he felt like Fred Astaire. He sighed. “Sure, after what we been through. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, well—it’s now that counts, right?”

“Sure is, my friend. Our luck turned around didn’t it? Don’t I always say to look on the bright side?”

It was true. Tommy always helped him. He always would. That was why they were pals. Friends forever—literally.

They were part of a circus. Granted it was small, but it made up for that by its uniqueness. And like any circus, aside from midgets,

it had animal acts, performers and clowns. What’s a circus without clowns?

Yup, considering its size, this circus was pretty popular. People like to be entertained. Times were hard in this, the third year of what would come to be known as, the Great Depression. Yet, despite that, people came; all kinds of folks. Rubes and hicks mainly—because they never played the big cities; just small towns. Sebastian said it was better that way. They didn’t want any trouble. Not that they couldn’t handle it and then some.

Yet another show was about to start and the boys were glad. When they heard the brass band start up with Entry of the Gladiators they were in ecstasy. Tommy rubbed his hands. “That’s it. Getting all revved up now, how about you, kid?”

Hank smiled. “Yeah. It’s magic, ain’t it?”

They both laughed heartily at that. When the music stopped they heard Sebastian go into his spiel. “Ladies and Gentleman—prepare yourselves for the best circus show you’ll ever see. . . ”

No hecklers tonight, well one only; some yokel showing off to his girlfriend. The boys could hear him making loud noises and acting like a real smart ass.

The boys got ready for their entrance. Sebastian liked them to come out first and greet the audience, talk to them and get a sense of what kind of folks they were. They liked it too because they enjoyed sniffing the air. People’s blood always smelled so different. It was amazing.

They locked eyes onto the heckler as he was still going strong.

“Could be worse,” Tommy said. “Could be a few of them.”

Just then the heckler called them both runts. Runts, they didn’t like. Runts did more than rankle. But the stupid bastard finally shut up when the clowns made their appearance.

There were three of them. They wore distinctive clown make up. One was sad—there were tears painted under his eyes and his drooping lips were done up artfully. He had learned makeup from another clown he killed and ate. Well, no one’s perfect.

The other two clowns were also uniquely made up. Happy was the jolly one. He had this big ass smile plastered across his face. Sometimes he had the remains of food stuck in the corners of his mouth.

“Hey, that ain’t lipstick, is it?”

The two other clowns would often tease him.

“Oh shit!” He’d invariably say. “I am a messy eater!”

He was; he often had bits of flesh and blood scattered all over his costume. Lou used to admonish him. In the last town Lou actually found a half-eaten eyeball stuck onto Happy’s oversized shoe. He gave it to him for that. Lou didn’t like to yell but Happy had to get it together.

Still, they remained friends.

The third clown’s make up was more unusual. He was the clowns’ clown. Dave was the one the other two would pretend to pick on. His make-up was very old fashioned. It was the way clowns were made up in mediaeval times.

All three began to respond to the audience, especially the children.

They’d make these exaggerated motions. They just mimed; they never spoke. One child had already been chosen by one of them because he was fat. Lou loved fat little boys, all dimply and doughy looking. The last boy he had eaten lasted a whole week! Boy oh boy that little tub of lard was tasty. Happy did him up in a special glaze.

Happy liked to cook.

“It’s gonna be a good show,” Lou said—sounding very upbeat. “I can feel it in my bones.”

That’s when the orchestra started up again; just a few notes, after which Sebastian introduced the trapeze act: the great Waldini and his wife.

These acts, from the trick rider and her horse to the trapeze couple, including the brass band as well as the lion tamer and lions, were odd looking, expressionless. They performed well enough though. It was only when you looked closely at them that there was a sense something was radically wrong, as in weird, fucking and odd.

Only one person noticed. He had seen the show a few times, following them from town to town throughout Ohio. He was studying the acts. Something wasn’t right about it; something just stunk about it. He didn’t know what it was, but he was determined to find out. It would make his career as a reporter, he felt sure.

He watched the lion tamer strut out. The guy was attired in a glittering, white outfit; pith helmet, whip and everything. The whip cracked as the tamer barked out commands. The lions growled a few times, nothing remarkable. In fact if anything, they looked bored. It seemed their growls and raised paws didn’t have a sense of realism which was most strange but then again, they had been conjured.

The midgets came out next. Dressed as always, very dapper. They wore make up, nothing too theatrical, or clownish. It was just enough to be interesting. Their faces were made up so that they looked like manikins. Their faces were white and their eyelids were lined in black. They wore lipstick and circles of rouge, too—their hair was slicked back like George Raft’s and they flirted a lot with the ladies. They seemed mischievous.

Actually they were interesting to watch because they were animated and lively. The young man didn’t think anything untoward about them or the clowns—not then.

*

They loved chow time. They ate around a big table in Sebastian’s trailer. It had been some movie star’s house car in the twenties. The rumor was it had been Mae West’s. Whatever the story, it was ace.


Everyone loved it particularly, Sebastian. In fact it was his home. He had his own bathroom and kitchen area and bunks too—like plush sofas they were.

The clowns always behaved themselves when they came in. They were always polite and made a real effort to be pleasant.

The boys (Tommy and Hank) were dressed well; they’d shower in the special shower tent before. They were very fastidious; much more so than the clowns. The clowns had to be reminded of personal hygiene periodically, but Sebastian didn’t mind. They were okay guys.

He smiled at the phrase. That was one of the 20th century expressions he loved.

They were all enthused about the town and the show and everyone started speaking at once. Sebastian had a few things to say but he bided his time. He’d save it for last.

He was grinning at them. His gaunt face and pronounced cheekbones gave him a skull-like look sometimes. He could have altered his appearance from the tall, imposing man he was but he didn’t.

Every so often he did, but only if he had to. At last he spoke. “I have a special menu for you guys tonight.” This he said as he revealed a beautiful roast.

The clowns were excited. “Dave said he smelled something cooking earlier. Didn’t you, Dave?”

Dave agreed. “I bet I know what it is!”

Happy and Lou nodded. “He’s been driving us nuts all day. Saying how he can’t wait to bite into a nice fat buttocks. Anyone we know, Sebastian?”

Sebastian started to answer but looked over at Tommy and Hank.

They were looking as though they felt ignored. “Now boys, no one’s forgotten about you.” He said as he handed them two tumblers. “This is fresh, it’s nowhere near clotted.”

They oohed and awed and sniffed the giant tumblers.

“Rich, ruby port! Might we know where that came from?”

Sebastian shook his finger in a good natured but teasing way.

“Don’t pry it’s rude. Let’s just say that heckler paid for calling you guys runts.”

Hank and Tommy clapped their little hands together. “Thank you!” they cried.

Dave wanted to know where the rest of him was.

“He’s been put away for tomorrow’s grub, is that okay?”

Happy and Lou were shaking their heads. “Dave, you gotta cut down on the calories. You’re going to get too fat for your clown suit!”

Tommy started to laugh which only inflamed Lou. Well the clowns and the midgets used to argue, coming to blows occasionally. Of course the midgets always won. They were little, but they were strong as vampires are.

Sebastian gently admonished them. He loved his boys as he called them. They had been tossed around from circus to circus. In the last place they had been, they were beaten constantly. When Sebastian saw them, they were almost dead.

He killed their tormenter, but by that time, they were both gone. He raised them up because he would not see them dead. When they rose up and realized what he had done, they cried. Vampires do that. Sebastian had seen it happen a lot.

He explained it all to them. “You’ll live forever, boys! You’ll never be afraid. You’ll never be harmed or frightened. Isn’t that good?”

Eventually they grew into their undead existence as vampires do.

That was just after the war in Europe. It was 1918 when they were turned.

Sebastian’s circus had grown quite a bit since then. There were the acts he put in. They weren’t real people or animals. They were creations of his sorcery. That was Sebastian’s story. Everyone in a circus has a story.

Tommy was teasing the clowns again. Why the midget picked on them was anybody’s guess. Sebastian didn’t like it. He felt sorry for them because they were life’s victims too, but in a different way.

The three of them were former mental patients. Yes sir, right out of Storeyville, Georgia. They had this sadist bastard of a doctor, Dr. Nichols who liked to do experiments on them. When they had enough of his hole drilling and failed (but painful) attempts at lobotomies—or was it just torture by another name—they escaped; walked right out of that house of horrors.

Sebastian always wondered when they became cannibals. He had asked them but they’d laugh and ‘say never you mind;’ although they did fess up to eating Dr. Nichols and two orderlies.

He told them that it didn’t matter. He said they’d have jobs and a place to stay as long as they liked. Of course they’d have to learn clown stuff. They were eager and in no time were performing perfectly.

Sebastian could see how much they looked up at him.

It was funny how they found one another. Sebastian caught them ripping open a family of four. The kids were nothing more than ribs and hair but these three guys were still gnawing away on the father and mother when Sebastian called out: “Hey, what are you doing?”

Whereupon the three threatened him. That was when he showed them. He had the remains of their meal rise up from the ground. Up this stuff went, all pieces of flesh and gore–spinning and turning—coming closer and closer to them!

They screamed but Sebastian only laughed and began to taunt them. First by having the gnawed parents begin to dance with one another.

It got so bad that the guys pleaded for him to stop. “What kinda shit is this? Who the hell are you?”

That was what he was waiting for. “I am Sebastian and I come from another place and time.” He told them how he had made a pact with Satan so that he could live forever. “It was easy—I gave up my soul. What the hell did I need it for? It was no use to me. Not during the Black Death it wasn’t. That plague killed one-third of Europe in the fourteenth century.”

He told them how he could raise the dead and make things move.
He often spoke about the many centuries he had lived through.

The midgets were fascinated by stories of the little people and Sebastian never disappointed them. He had a number of special people (he hated the word freaks) he had saved from one circus or sideshow over the years. He came to think of them as family.

*

Even now, these meals were special family dinners. Sebastian ate regular food but the others didn’t. The midgets only subsisted on blood whereas the clowns were meat eaters. Real meat eaters.

It was toward the end of the meal that Sebastian brought the subject up of the young man. That got their attention. In fact, Dave dropped the eye ball he was nibbling and Tommy nearly spilled a goblet of blood. Now that would have stained the table cloth.

“There’s this young man. I don’t know what his racket is, but I find him highly suspicious. I think we will have to deal with him soon.”

You could have heard a pin drop.

“No shit.” Hank said.

Sebastian nodded. “The sooner we take care of him, the better.”

*

They found him talking to the lion tamer. It struck the clowns funny and the midgets too, but it didn’t make Sebastian laugh because he was too intent on his purpose.

“May I help you?”

The guy turned around and smiled, albeit nervously. “Is there anything wrong with him?” He asked gesturing toward the blanked-eyed lion tamer. “Is he in a stupor? I mean is he alright?”

Hank and Tommy sauntered up from behind Sebastian. “What’s it to you, bub?”

The man shrugged. “Nothing really,” he smiled, trying to appear casual. But when the three clowns suddenly appeared, he stood up to run.

Flight or fight.

However since it didn’t look like he’d get away, he tried to reason.
“I’m a reporter. . . I’d like to do a feature story on your circus.
That’s all. . . ”

“No kidding!” the clowns replied in unison. Then they all turned to look at Sebastian.

“We can’t afford any publicity. It’s just the way it is, the way it’s always been. Let me explain. . . ”

*

The last thing he saw were the teeth. Long, yellow teeth sharpened to a fine point. They were covered in his blood. He knew that because he felt so weak.


Still, he hadn’t been conscious most of the time they were feeding. And really he started to weaken when the midgets were draining him. They assured him they wouldn’t kill him though because the clowns hated dried-out food.

When they said that, he screamed. Naturally it didn’t help him.

Sebastian liked a good screamer, and so did his guys. After all, they worked hard to put on a good show and they liked some entertainment in return. Why not?

Sebastian waved his arms and the toy-like circus performers rose up from wherever they were: the lion tamer, the lions, the horse and rider, even the great Waldini and his wife. They rose as the toys they were, created by Sebastian’s magic.

He nodded toward the brass band to start playing. It was amazing. All those toys—obeying as they did. Sure enough, the circus music started, Entry of the Gladiators, Sebastian’s favorite.

The lively tune boomed out, masking the reporter’s agonized screams. In fact as he slipped into the great and vast beyond, he smiled because the closer he got to death the more he didn’t mind. And really, whatever came after this had to be a whole lot better... "

Copyright   ©  2013   Carole Gill

This story inspired my novel, Circus of Horrors 

AMAZON

The story first appeared in this best selling collection:

The Dancing Girls Arrived for the Opening!

Joe told them no circus was complete without some gorgeous dames. The clowns rubbed their hands in anticipation. Things were going great! 

ADULT LANGUAGE

Exceprt:
The clowns were heading over toward the dancing girls’ huts. “Look, we’ll just talk nicely to them. No vulgarity,” Happy said. But even as he said it, he couldn’t help but titter.

“Do you think they’ll tell us to fuck off?

They started to get nervous then. Fred’s threat was all too vivid.

“It wouldn’t be easy to find another show, boys. We all know that.”

They did.

“Okay, so maybe we should just hope for the best?”

“Hope for the best,” Happy said. “You kidding?"

***

“This is horrific in the best way! It is extreme ... and disturbing.

"Riveting. Imaginative. Chilling. Fantastical."

"Wonderful horror with a side order of ribs."

"Outstanding story line and strong characters. I felt like I was right there and a part of the sideshow.

"An awesome little creepfest!"

"Never going to the circus again!"

"True horror!"

“Scary from beginning to end! Sit back and read your way into a horror filled tale! Enjoy!”

BUY NOW FOR 99 CENTS! NOW - MAY 2ND!

AMAZON

WHEN THE CLOWNS GOT ANGRY, THEY GOT REALLY ANGRY

Damaged, vulnerable people fuel this story. Horrifically abused in orphanages, the clowns become killers. They never worry about evidence or their crimes,either. They don't have to. 

GRAPHIC VIOLENCE

"The boys didn’t take shit from anyone. What were three more big mouthed louts to them? Al whipped out his razor. The dispute was settled in five bloody minutes. Where the sailors had been nasty fools taunting those they saw as misfits, they soon became blood-drenched corpses, their throats cut so deep, their heads dangled.

“Good thing the boss ain’t here.”

Al agreed. He knew they owed a lot to the clowns.

The clowns took care of everything—they cut them up into manageable parts, then basted them with some Heinz sauce, their favorite."

AMAZON

“This is horrific in the best way! It is extreme ... and disturbing. If you like that sort of thing and an author who can write it and make you a bit uncomfy ... Gill will likely make you smile ... even if you don't admit that part.”

"Riveting. Imaginative. Chilling. Fantastical."

"Wonderful horror with a side order of ribs."

"Outstanding story line and strong characters. I felt like I was right there and a part of the side show. This book is not intended for young readers or for those with a weak stomach. Kudos to the author!!!"

"An awesome little creepfest!"

"Never going to the circus again!"

"True horror!"

“Scary from beginning to end! Sit back and read your way into a horror filled tale! Enjoy!”

ABOUT THE CLOWNS' ANGER ON OFFER 99 CENTS!

The clowns always acted fast. Slice! Slice! Horrifically abused as youngsters, they can hide their scars with clown make up, but not the damage done to them inside. 

The boys didn’t take shit from anyone. What were three more big mouthed louts to them? Al whipped out his razor. The dispute was settled in five bloody minutes. Where the sailors had been nasty fools taunting those they saw as misfits, they soon became blood-drenched corpses, their throats cut so deep, their heads dangled.

“Good thing the boss ain’t here.”

Al agreed. He knew they owed a lot to the clowns.

The clowns took care of everything—they cut them up into manageable parts, then basted them with some Heinz sauce, their favorite.

“This is horrific in the best way! It is extreme ... and disturbing."Riveting. Imaginative. Chilling. Fantastical."

"Wonderful horror with a side order of ribs."

"Outstanding story line and strong characters. I felt like I was right there and a part of the sideshow.

"An awesome little creepfest!"

"Never going to the circus again!"

"True horror!"

“Scary from beginning to end! Sit back and read your way into a horror filled tale! Enjoy!”

WARNING: THIS IS A DISTURBING TALE! IT IS FOR FANS OF BIZARRE, ADULT HORROR. THERE IS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, STRONG, LANGUAGE AND SEXUAL SCENES

AMAZON 

ABOUT THE CLOWNS

Severe childhood abuse made the clowns the killers they became. This excerpt is about that.

"It wasn’t easy. Of the three, Happy was the most disfigured. His face displayed a roadmap of his horrendous childhood and young adulthood. It told the story of brutality and unimaginable violence.

Happy’s real name was Arthur Mundt—not that it mattered. The happy clown face he wore gave him his name. But was he happy? Nah. How could he be? He used to say the best he could do was try not to kill people.

Yes, his life had been too hard.

The clowns met in the Storeyville Orphanage in Georgia. The place was infamous for brutality.The cigarette burns had long since healed as they had on the others, but the scarring from razors and broken bottles was particularly bad. There was copious scar tissue which had turned deep purple. Jagged lines of it covered his face and ears, too. Poor fucker.

What Fred had pieced together about Happy was, he’d been living with hoboes after running away from home. Cops raided the shithole they were all holed up in and he got dumped at the orphanage as he was under twelve.

Noble and Danny had been turned over to the orphanage shortly after being born. No one told them where they came from. Their names were given to them by a doctor who liked to read. That was why they’d been called Noble Dickens and Danny Shakespeare, respectively."

"Riveting. Imaginative. Chilling. Fantastical."

"Wonderful horror with a side order of ribs."

"Never going to the circus again!"

"True horror!"

"The circus you really don't want to join."

AMAZON 

IS ONE MAN RESPONSIBLE FOR OUR PERCEPTION OF CLOWNS?

Now, I happen to think clowns can be scary looking--not always, but very often. I think one person is responsible for that. The serial killer, John Wayne Gacy. He dressed as a clown to entertain children in hospitals. Now, I don't know if he realized just how evil he looked in the clown makeup, but he looked pretty scary to me!

Eventually, he was executed for having murdered thirty young men. I never forgot him or the case. 

If he isn't solely responsible for generating fear of clowns (among some of us), he's partially responsible. They scare us. We don't know what they're like under that clown makeup. 

The novel I evenutally wrote was a bit of a departure for me. My longer fiction tends to be Gothic vampires, lusty--sexy and well, vampires just being vampires!

My shorter fiction is different. Two years ago I wrote a short story which is included in my Carole Gill's House of Horrors collection. It was about a circus.

I liked the premise so much that over time, the characters began growing in my head. I mean they were being slowly developed without me doing anything. When that happens, writers know they have a novel.

When the characters were forming in my imagination I saw different sorts of men as these clowns. I didn't see serial killers like Gacy. I saw damaged human beings who kill and cannibalize what they kill. They are so messed up and warped, it is the only way they can 'get back at the world.' 

Still, they are sensitive and surprisingly caring sometimes. There are three of them in this novel. Each was horrifically abused as children. Their faces are badly scarred. They cover those scars with clown makeup. And really, clown makeup is a mask. Who knows what's under the mask? Anything could be. 

My poor clowns are warped and insane and they know it. They are part of a travelling circus that has seen better days. Each character has secrets but no one has a more surprising secret than the owner's son. He no longer remembers what it is, age took its toll. His son knows and has killed because of it. 

A man shows up one night--a stranger who wants to help them. He does. He wins them over. Things are going to change he promises, they surely do. 

I don't think horror should be without purpose. All of the elements of horror should be there  like gore. Gore can embellish a story but it should never be the story. 

I also think that cruelty and abuse, especially meted out to children can produce damaged adults. And if evil is drawn to evil like a magnet and happens to become part of a circus--well, it's going to be a hell of a show, literally. 

Succubus and demons are there, but they're present mainly to seduce and beguile. 

No animals are present, by the way! This is a different sort of circus remember, the 'animals' were conjured. They're not real. Only the horror and damnation is. 

AMAZON

Excerpt: The Fat Man

EXCERPT:

"The clowns had zeroed in on a fat man. Fat and slow and stupid. He had come alone. There he was, walking down the Midway, all eyes—eating his hot dogs.

Happy couldn’t get over the various aromas. The hot dogs and the man himself, his hair oil, and his flesh.

Noble said he thought the guy smelled of beer, too. Danny laughed. “Okay by me because I like beer.”

They hadn’t done anything like this before—like they were planning to do. They had only eaten people they killed and they only killed those that had hurt or insulted them or their friends, but this was different. This was something else, a new feeling. Something predatory had seized hold of them.

They followed the guy to the end of the Midway. When they realized they were alone, they called to him. Happy joked around with him, distracting him. Then Noble and Danny knocked him out.

“The woods. No one is there now.”

Danny wanted to know if they’d have a fire. He had never eaten anyone raw before.

Happy laughed as he took out his straight razor and cut the man’s throat. They stood over the poor jerk, watching him convulse as he bled to death.

“See, it’s over fast. Who wants what?”

AMAZON

99CENTS!

Chapter 4, CIRCUS OF HORRORS!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3  

CHAPTER 4

In truth, Fred was worried; he just didn’t let on. Folks just didn’t have money to spend on anything. It had even begun to occur to him that the whole show might fall apart, that they’d just disband, which was not something he wanted at all.

He was many things. He wasn’t particularly honest or trustworthy—in fact he had terrible things on his conscience that bothered him. He’d suffered from nightmares most of his life, nightmares, and the jitters, as he called them. He had no idea they came from things he had done that he no longer recalled.

Despite this, he was affable and fair toward those he worked with. And because they had suffered as much as they had—his show people—he felt downright responsible for them. What would happen to them if they had no home with him? Still, he couldn’t afford to keep them as things were. He was down to the last bit of money.

Where would Alice go, poor kid, or any of them? The clowns would wind up being killed one way or the other, and the boys, too. They were out of their heads sometimes. Too fucked up from all they had been through.

As for Al and Hank, they’d eventually broken out of the mental facility they had lived in and joined up with circuses, fairs—whatever they could get into.

Fred ran into them one night when he stopped to pick them up. He had thought they were children. They knew he did and accused him of all sorts of crazy shit. After a while, they came round. It took time though. Both of them had suffered a lot.

The crew, as he often thought of them, had been with him for four years. It was two years since the ’29 Wall Street crash and things were bad. His father was worse. What else was going to happen? He often wished their luck would change though he doubted it could.

But things did swing another way, as a matter of fact. Yet, there was nothing to indicate a profound change was going to take place. No premonitions of any kind. They were sitting around the fire waiting for their food. Al poked the fire to get it to cook faster. “Yay!” he cried. “It’s ready!”

The meat was fatty though because it was cheap but it smelled as good as it tasted. Happy said it was almost as good as flesh, but not quite. The clowns laughed—including Happy.

They were just razing one another. Then they started to talk. Baby Alice spoke about movie stars she liked. She was a real fan of cowboy films.

In the early days, Fred used to sometimes take them to the movies and they’d get the works: popcorn, grape soda, whatever they wanted. No more, though.

Baby Alice asked Fred if he felt alright. He said he did. She looked unconvinced. Fred smiled to show her he wasn’t as worried as he actually was.

The food was good and they were grateful for it. After they ate, they stared into the fire as if to read the future.

The boys were shooting crap with the dice they stole from a Woolworths and the clowns were drinking some bootlegged gin. Fred didn’t mind as long as they didn’t get drunk out of their heads. They weren’t good when they ended up like that.

Still, it proved a fine evening, another evening for sitting under the stars and having a decent meal. Fred decided to be positive. He hoped he’d stay that way.

It had to have been past nine when a voice called out. A man’s voice. Everyone stopped what they were doing; they just froze and looked at one another.

None of them liked strangers poking round. For one thing, they could be cops. No, they didn’t want strangers asking questions. Fred stood and spotted him. A figure was just coming into view.

The man held up his hands. “I mean you no harm,” he said. “I just was out walking and I came upon your fire. That is, I smelled it and whatever you cooked…it smelled real good.”

Fred didn’t know what to make of him at first. Of course, he was relieved he didn’t look like a cop. He was dressed kind of shabbily, with a shirt and mismatched jacket, paired with trousers worn at the knees. He was carrying his jacket. “Sure is warm tonight.”

Fred agreed.

“Yeah, but that’s the way June is hereabouts.”

They both reckoned so. Everyone else did also and they continued to as they all sat around the fire. Just then, the man excused himself and said his name was Joe. “Joe Sabba.”

Sabba, Fred thought. It sounded like some kind of Hindu name, exotic: Sabba, the Magnificent. Joe cocked his head and said he could read Fred’s mind. Fred laughed. “No, really!” he said. “It’s what I do. Let me show you.”

The clowns started to guffaw and the boys did, too. Baby Alice called them rude and the stranger smiled and thanked her, calling her ma’am, which made her blush. “No, ma’am, I’ll show them. You wait. I think you were wondering if I was some kind of magician, Sabba the Magnificent, wasn’t it? Is what you were thinking?”

Fred nearly swallowed the unlit stogie he had been gnawing on. “What did you say?”

“I bet I was right!”

Fred nodded dumbly.

No one said anything. It was quite a moment. “Well, sir,” the man said. “Looks like I impressed you all. It’s just a talent I have. Been like that all my life. Even as a sprout growing up in Amarillo.”

Happy was impressed. “Amarillo way? I come from Lubbock!”

“Do tell. Like Lubbock, been there many times.” There was a pause although it wasn’t a long one. “Carny folk, are you?” Heads began to nod—even Fred’s. “I bet you all have a story or two to tell! Nothing like it, fires and storytelling.”

That was when it started. A complete stranger broke the proverbial ice. They were soon all chatting for the next three hours, the men interested to learn that Joe had been a carny most of his life.

“Yes, always liked carny folks. Best people there are.”

Everyone agreed, including Fred. When Old Pa stuck his head out—he had been in the truck because of dizzy spells, which he got every now and then—Joe Sabba grinned. “Well, hello there, sir. I am mighty glad to meet you. I was wondering when I might.”

Fred laughed at that. “Hey, you can’t prove you knew he was in there.”

Joe agreed. “You are right. Damned if you ain’t. But I will say this and let God be my judge—I do surmise that your father there won’t go nowhere without his little box of mementos.”

Fred winced. He couldn’t speak for quite some time. This would be one night during which he wouldn’t sleep at all.

(end of chapter)

Damaged people, torn up in one way or another, an old man with a box of mind-blowing secrets--and a stranger--just on the road or on the road to hell?

REVIEWS:

"Wonderful Horror with a side order of ribs."

5 stars!

"A true horror tale...Be prepared to be scared!"

5 stars! 

PURCHASE FOR 99 CENTS!

AMAZON 

Chapter 3 Circus of Horrors!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3  

Fred was up early. Old Pa rose usually at dawn, which was really annoying. Then he’d have a good fart festival and coughing fit, after which he’d give his son a grateful toothless grin. Dressing next, which generally went smoothly. Then, if the weather was nice, Fred would help him outside. It was nice so they went out.

Al and Hank were already there. They had a fire going. “Water’s hot,” Al said. “You can have your tea.”

Fred thanked them and brewed a cup for his dad and himself. Then he sat the old man down and took a seat between him and the boys. “Sleep well?”

They did although Fred could see they looked worried. He knew why. They were all concerned about the same thing; where the hell to go next.

“It’s good to cool our heels awhile though...”

Yeah, they all agreed. Well, what else were they going to say?

They didn’t speak for some time, not until the clowns began to emerge. They weren’t wearing their clown makeup, which always startled the hell out of Fred. Al and Hank were less shocked as a rule. Good thing Baby Alice wasn’t up yet because she hated to see them like that, although she’d try not to show it.

It was a funny thing about the clowns but they were always polite—scarier than fuck but polite. Fred greeted them. “Water’s hot.”

They each mumbled something and took their coffee. Happy commented on the sunny morning and Fred answered him, trying carefully not to look repelled by Happy’s skin or his mates’.

It wasn’t easy. Of the three, Happy was the most disfigured. His face displayed a roadmap of his horrendous childhood and young adulthood. It told the story of brutality and unimaginable violence.

Happy’s real name was Arthur Mundt—not that it mattered. The happy clown face he wore gave him his name. But was he happy? Nah. How could he be? He used to say the best he could do was try not to kill people.

Yes, his life had been too hard.

The clowns met in the Storeyville Orphanage in Georgia. The place was infamous for brutality.

The cigarette burns had long since healed as they had on the others, but the scarring from razors and broken bottles was particularly bad. There was copious scar tissue which had turned deep purple. Jagged lines of it covered his face and ears, too. Poor fucker.

What Fred had pieced together about Happy was, he’d been living with hoboes after running away from home. Cops raided the shithole they were all holed up in and he got dumped at the orphanage as he was under twelve.

Noble and Danny had been turned over to the orphanage shortly after being born. No one told them where they came from. Their names were given to them by a doctor who liked to read. That was why they’d been called Noble Dickens and Danny Shakespeare, respectively.

“We all suffered hell,” Happy used to say. “If we weren’t used by the orderlies for sex, we were loaned out to their friends. They drank a lot and when they were pissed, they’d really start in.”

After a few orphans died, things got better, but not for Happy or his pals. They were good friends by then.

Danny was the most cordial, probably because he was the least scarred. “My face might not show it but all the times I been screwed up the ass—that’s what give me my hemorrhoids.”

Sad, all of them—Noble had it better. If it hadn’t been for the scarring on his jaw and throat, he’d have felt okay about not covering his face up with clown makeup.

“Anyone want eggs?”

The eggs were Fred’s surprise. He smiled when they reacted with enthusiasm. “Got them yesterday.”

They decided to wait for Baby Alice, but before she came out, the clowns had swallowed their coffee and applied their makeup. They liked her enough not to upset her. They surely didn’t feel that way about everyone though.

Fred got the eggs ready. He was already frying them when Alice emerged. “Aw, Fred! You got eggs, ain’t that nice!”

“You guys deserve it. I have rolls, too.”

It was like heaven for them, what a treat. They had some money now; that is, Fred did and he was feeling generous.

He enjoyed serving them, and when Happy thanked him and really looked as though he meant it, Fred was delighted.

“We have to make plans later. I mean we can stay here a bit longer…but we’ll have to hit the road some time.”

They knew they would but where would they go? This had been the topic of conversation for a while now. Even in that last place they’d stopped at.

“Any ideas?” Baby Alice asked as she ate. Her table manners were impeccable, considering she loved food so much.

Florida had been mentioned and as they were already in Alabama, it wouldn’t be out of the question to head that way. Still, Fred wasn’t sure. He wanted everyone’s opinion.

There was a lot of shrugging and sighing. No one really knew what to say. Al finally said one place was as good as another.

Everyone agreed. But that still didn’t edge them closer to an actual decision. Of course, that really lay with Fred. He glanced over at Old Pa, who seemed a bit out of it today, more than usual. Now he was kind of smiling to himself.

“What’s funny, Dad?” Fred asked this in the nicest possible way.

The old man winked. “I been thinking about some old jokes I remember. Serves to make my whole day bright.”

When Fred asked if he could tell them any, Old Pa’s smiled faded. “No, they just cleared out of me head now, they did. If they come back, I’ll tell ya!”

Okay…had to be okay; there was no other way. Just then, Al and Hank started to argue. The boys got along pretty well as a rule. This was unusual. They fought over a woman, which was funny because Hank just wasn’t interested in dames. Fred didn’t know much else, not that it was his business.

He did think Al and Alice liked one another and that was why she was staring at him now. Since she was, he was denying anything had happened. But Hank shook his head. “You lie! I seen you both—her with her legs spread and you pumping her as hard as shit! I seen your butt cheeks wiggle, you were using such force!”

They both stood to fight. Fred told them to stop it. They agreed. “Look, that’s past history, fellas, right?”

It was true. Al agreed so much he was already giving Baby Alice the come on. Fred wasn’t surprised when they went for a walk and didn’t return for an hour. And when they did, they were both red in the face.

Baby Alice was giggling something fierce but so was Al. Maybe, Fred thought, something could come of it. If only Baby Alice could lose some of that lard, it would be easier for Al when he was in the clinches.

Hank looked over and rolled his eyes a few times at Fred but it was funny more than anything. Even Al chuckled.

“We have to know when we’re leaving, right, Boss?” Noble wanted to know and so did Danny. Happy had fallen asleep.

“I’ll tell you by dinner time, how’s that? Got us some burgers.”

“What kinda meat?” Noble teased

“Not human, you pain in the ass,” Fred said. “Fucking cannibal."

CHAPTER 4

REVIEWS:

"Wonderful Horror with a side order of ribs."

5 stars!

"A true horror tale...Be prepared to be scared!"

5 stars! 

REVIEWS:PURCHASE FOR 99 CENTS!

AMAZON