━━━ ꧁ད ✶ ཌ꧂ ━━━

CHAPTER 09

━━━ ꧁ད ✶ ཌ꧂ ━━━

When the speakers throughout the place emitted a beep that transitioned into a cheerful and mysterious melody, Ashton's cane struck the ground. His other hand lifted his hat slightly, as if it had been obstructing that gaze that could be seen shining from my position. With his characteristic prose and distinction, he walked towards me, as far as the darkness allowed him to go.

"Zara," his voice said, sounding like an impatient warning. But his intervention wasn't necessary; I had already planned to distance myself.

"It seems you've found something interesting," the half-naked boy, still next to me, said, following the direction of my gaze. As he observed the area where Ashton seemed like a white marble statue on the edge of the darkness, he frowned. "Come on, let's go inside."

He jumped off the box and offered his help, but he acted without my consent when he took my hand and pulled gently. In the end, I was forced to come down and have him close to me again.

"I need to find them first." I excused myself, reclaiming my personal space with a step back.

"I can help you. Tell me whom you're looking for."

"Thanks, but I prefer to do it alone," I said impassively.

I searched for my cellphone, but no matter how much my hands fumbled in the kangaroo pocket of my sweatshirt, I couldn't find it. Fear and worry invaded me at the thought that I might have lost it. I had no way to locate my family.

"It seems to me that you need help," he remarked with a hint of mockery.

"I told you no." I turned my back on him, but he took hold of my hand again, pulling me back and gripping it too tightly, causing me to drop the flyer and the circus ticket.

"I know you'll love it." His eyes became dull, and I knew it was time to act.

I struggled, but his grip was firmer and rougher than I thought possible.

I glanced around, hoping to catch the gaze of a curious onlooker and ask for their help, but I was surprised to find that everyone had quickly entered the circus tent. In the end, the only individual watching the situation with fiery eyes was Ashton, and I was fortunate to be under the flickering light that coincided with a gust of cold wind that tousled my hair.

I already knew who caused the lights at home to explode, but this time, the lights at the fair were hanging everywhere. There were too many of them.

"Let me go." My voice came out as a whisper.

"We must go inside," he repeated like a robot, but his smile hadn't faded. It was wide, forced, and unreal.

"It's not what it seems," Ashton exposed.

I tried to break free with more desperation, but he pulled me forcefully, disturbing me in every way. My back collided with the box I had climbed moments ago, and I looked at him closely.

Still gripping my arm to the point of causing pain, his other hand pulled a brightly colored handkerchief from his pocket. As soon as I realized his plan, I lifted my knee and hit his groin. I froze when I realized that even after exerting all my strength, he didn't even flinch.

Without giving me a chance to utter a word, he covered my mouth and nose with the cloth. The smell was so strong that it quickly dulled some of my senses.

"Sweet dreams, little one."

A faint glow emanated from my chest. Then the crackling sound of bulbs and spotlights exploding one by one echoed like fireworks.

The darkness descended imprecisely over the fair, and the only place that maintained its light in shades and abstract figures was the circus tent.

I felt a terrible dizziness as the colors mixed and presented themselves to me as a dark blotch. However, in my ears, I heard the distorted music of the circus and Ashton's voice telling me:

"I won't let them harm you."

With terrible dizziness in between, I opened my eyelids. The circus music was still playing in the background, sometimes distorted and sometimes clear.

I blinked until my eyes focused on what appeared to be naked bodies piled up in different areas of a spacious room. Some were lying down; others were sitting uncomfortably. But they all watched me attentively while they wore a wide and unreal smile.

My vision blurred, and with a start, I rubbed my eyes.

When I could focus again, I realized they weren't bodies, or at least not human bodies. Although they had no strings, it was clear that they were life-sized puppets, wearing only white pants, as if waiting for someone to dress them.

Unsteadily, I pushed myself up with my elbows to sit on the floor, and the unpleasant smell of musty wood reached my nose, causing me to wrinkle it.

The place seemed to be a warehouse, with nothing but a yellow light bathing me. Around me were wooden crates and abundant packing material.

I had the sensation of being watched by a large audience. The place was full of those puppets, all looking very similar to each other. Their smiles were painted in the shape of crescent moons with teeth, and their eyes were just two dots above them.

"The show has begun."

My head turned toward the voice, and I felt nauseous. I didn't know if it was because of seeing him, or as a side effect of the sleeping substance the boy used on me.

On the other side of the long room, halfway through what appeared before my eyes as a triangular and luminous exit, stood the man dressed in a white suit. His long, snowy hair rose as he took off his cowboy hat.

"I apologize for forcefully bringing you here," he bowed, similar to the gesture that lured me into his medallion and trap establishment.

He raised a hand toward me, showing me the circular piece that made me touch my chest unconsciously. Thus, I realized that the medallion was no longer in its place, as he was the one holding it now.

Tempted to demand that he return it or to remain silent, he opened his palm, and the medallion levitated for a moment above it. Shortly after, the object disappeared, and a couple of meters away from me, it reappeared.

"Interesting..." He took three steps forward, as if searching for something. "Where is he?" The light above my head went out, and the man looked fascinated as he smiled almost as creepily as the puppets. "Next to you, I suppose."

Although I refused to believe it, something assured me that he was talking about Ashton.

With a shiver running down my spine, I shifted my gaze and gasped when I saw him exactly as the man had described.

"Zara," Ashton whispered, never taking his eyes off the man with white hair. "You have to reach the medallion."

The man raised both hands, and in front of him, he began moving his fingers as if playing a phantom melody on an invisible piano. I also noticed the rings adorning his fingers—roughly made, with stones of different shapes and colors.

Around us, the puppets rose, arms and heads hanging from their bodies. As if the movements the puppeteer was performing with his fingers had given them life.

"Now!" Ashton shouted. I lunged forward to grab the medallion, and as I held it in my hands, his arm wrapped around my waist, pressing me against his icy body.

With a growl, Ashton raised his cane in front of my eyes, and the medallion in my hands started to glow.

In front of us, among the group of wooden puppets, I recognized the half-naked boy who drugged me. He stood under the glow of the lights, unaffected, making him different from the shadows. None of them were like him.

Soon after, as if an indescribable force were pulling us, Ashton and I were propelled backward. The foundations of the tent, like the legs of a dying spider, opened up, allowing us to pass through.

"After them!" the puppeteer ordered, and my scream drowned amidst the chaos.

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