Back inside the large tent, the circus was still filled with the laughter of the distracted civilians, laughing away as their life force was being drained, laughter echoing through the canvas walls. Behind the scenes, things were much quieter.
The three circus freaks moved through the dim back corridors, hauling crates filled with stolen goods deeper into the storage area. The lighting back here was poor, just a few hanging bulbs swaying slightly, casting long, uneven shadows across the ground.
Thumbskull carried most of the load, arms full of heavy boxes stacked almost to his chin. He grunted as he walked, boots thudding against the wooden floor, not paying much attention to anything except where he was going. As he passed one of the darker corners, something caught his eye. A shape, tall and still, standing just at the edge of the light.
He turned his head toward the shadow, squinting as if he had seen someone standing there a second ago.
"…Huh?"
For a second, he could have sworn someone was standing there.
He stopped completely and turned his body to face it, adjusting the boxes in his arms. The hanging bulb nearby creaked softly as it swayed, its light brushing over the area in slow intervals. Every time the light passed over that spot, there was nothing there. Just empty space and canvas walls.
Thumbskull frowned, then shook his head. "Yeah, real funny," he muttered, assuming one of the others was messing with him.
He turned back around and took a step forward, his gaze subconsciously moved to that spot again, and this time, he froze.
This time, when he looked up, a tall, slender white figure was standing in front of him.
Standing directly in front of him now was a tall, slender figure, far taller than any normal person, its body unnaturally thin. Its skin was pale, completely white, almost blending with the dim light. It wore a simple black suit, clean and still, like it didn't belong in this place at all. The hanging light swayed slowly beside it, and every time it moved, it briefly revealed a blank white face staring straight down at him.
Thumbskull blinked.
The boxes slipped from his arms and hit the ground with a heavy thud.
He rubbed his eyes hard as if that would fix whatever he was seeing. When he opened them again, the figure was gone.
The hallway was empty again, just the swaying light and the scattered boxes at his feet.
"…Okay, not funny," he said, a bit more uncertain this time.
Thumbskull frowned and rubbed his eyes again, this time more forcefully, but instead of clearing up, his vision only got worse. A strange static began creeping in at the edges of his sight, like an old television losing signal. The colors around him blurred and shimmered, and the darkness behind the lights seemed to deepen.
He took a step back, blinked a few times. As the flicker didn't go away. It got worse.
Static crept into his vision, faint at first, then sharper, small lines and distortions crawling across everything he looked at. He reached up and rubbed his eyes again, harder this time, but that only made it worse. The world around him seemed to glitch, the shadows stretching unnaturally as the light swung back and forth.
And then, just beside the hanging bulb, it was there again.
It stood just beside the hanging lamp this time, its faceless head angled slightly downward as if it had been watching him the entire time. The swaying light passed over its blank white face, briefly illuminating it before sliding away again, revealing just enough each time to make it feel real.
Thumbskull's breathing quickened, staggered back a step. "What the-"
He tried to back away, but the static in his vision grew stronger, filling his head with a buzzing pressure that made it hard to think. Every time he blinked, the figure seemed a little closer. The darkness around him felt tighter now, as if the tent itself had shrunk in around him.
Then the light overhead suddenly went out. The corridor dropped into near-total darkness.
Thumbskull let out a startled gasp, clutching at his head as the static in his vision became almost unbearable. He stumbled, trying to steady himself, but the tall white shape was already moving toward him from the dark, silent and slow.
"Grahhh!" Thumbskull shouted in pain, dropping to his knees and grabbing his head with both hands.
Through the static, through the darkness, he could still see it. The slender figure stopped just in front of him.
The tall, white figure moved without a sound, its steps slow and deliberate. Its long, slender arm extended forward, fingers stretching out unnaturally as it reached toward him.
Thumbskull tried to push himself up, but his body wouldn't respond properly, his vision completely overtaken by the buzzing static. He gave one last muffled cry before everything faded to black.
...
Acid Breath looked around, not seeing Thumbskull anywhere. His gaze moved across the empty space, scanning every corner, but all he found were scattered boxes, their contents spilled across the ground like someone had torn through them without care.
He frowned slightly, taking a slow step forward as he listened for anything out of place.
Then his eyes caught something.
A tall, white-skinned, slender figure stood at the very edge of the shadows, just barely visible where the light failed to reach properly.
He blinked and coughed into his arm, but when he looked back and narrowed his eyes to focus, the figure was already gone.
The coughing didn't stop. It got worse.
That alone felt off. His breath could melt metal, his lungs were built to handle far worse than smoke or heat, yet now every breath came out rough and uneven, like something was pressing down on his chest from the inside. He tried to steady it, but the irritation only grew stronger.
As he continued coughing, he noticed a tall shadow stretching toward him across the ground.
He immediately looked up. There was no one there.
"What the?" he muttered, his voice quieter than usual.
A slow, creeping panic began to settle in, subtle at first but growing heavier with each passing second. His gaze shifted around again, more alert now, checking every angle, every dark corner.
Then the light suddenly went out. For a brief moment, there was nothing but darkness.
Then flames erupted around him.
They ignited all at once, forming a tight circle that boxed him in. The heat pressed in instantly, thick and suffocating, the air turning harsh as it filled his lungs. His coughing worsened, each breath becoming more difficult than the last as the fire distorted the air around him.
Without hesitating, Acid Breath charged forward, forcing his way through the flames. Fire licked across his skin as he broke through, the burn sharp but manageable, something he could push past without slowing down.
But the moment he cleared it, he stopped. Another circle of flames surrounded him.
His breathing grew heavier, less controlled, the pressure in his chest building as he turned quickly, searching for any way out, any gap in the fire.
And then he saw it again.
Standing a short distance away, partially illuminated by the flames, was the same slender white figure.
It didn't move. Its body was smooth and pale, completely featureless, with no eyes, no mouth, nothing where a face should be. Even so, there was no mistaking it, it was staring directly at him.
Acid Breath's coughing turned violent, his body jerking as his vision began to distort. Static crept along the edges of his sight, blurring everything together as he tried to stay upright. The heat, the smoke, the pressure in his lungs, it all started to overlap, making it harder to think, harder to react.
The figure remained where it was. Or at least, it seemed like it did.
His knees gave out, hitting the ground as his strength began to fade. The flames felt distant now, their light dimming as his vision darkened, the static growing heavier until it swallowed everything else.
Then, just before everything went completely black, the faceless figure was suddenly right in front of him.
...
Frightwig paused, not seeing Thumbskull or Acid Breath anywhere. The absence alone was enough to bother her, but what really set her off was the way the lights along the corridor had all gone out at once, leaving the path ahead drowned in darkness.
"Stupid light…" she muttered under her breath, glancing up as if that would somehow fix it. Nothing responded, and she didn't bother trying again.
She exhaled and kept moving forward anyway, her steps slower now, more cautious as she pushed into the dark. Something about the situation felt off in a way she couldn't quite explain, like she had walked into the wrong place without realizing it.
"Boys? Where are you?" she called out, her voice echoing faintly.
The silence that followed felt wrong. With their boss carrying out his plan not too far away, the area should've had more noise, more movement, something. Instead, it felt empty.
A faint sound suddenly came from her side, and she turned quickly, her body tensing as she spotted a rat darting across the ground before disappearing into the shadows.
She let out a breath, her shoulders loosening slightly. "Just a rat…"
Her eyes lingered a second longer than they should have.
For a moment, something else was there too, a tall, white, faceless shape standing further back in the darkness, completely still and looking directly at her.
She blinked, and it was gone. Making her question was whether she was seeing things.
Frightwig frowned but didn't stop walking. Even so, the feeling of being watched didn't fade. If anything, it settled in deeper, sticking to her as she moved.
She turned around again, more abruptly this time.
The corridor behind her was just as empty as before.
But the moment she turned back, her body froze.
Standing right in front of her, close enough that she hadn't even heard it approach, was a tall, slender figure dressed in a black suit. Its skin was pale white, unnaturally smooth, and where a face should have been, there was nothing at all.
No eyes. No mouth. Just a blank surface aimed directly at her. Every instinct in her body flared at once.
Without hesitation, she dropped the box she had been carrying and lashed out, her tentacle-like hair snapping forward toward the figure with force.
The attack slammed into the ground, cracking against the floor and kicking up a cloud of dust.
Frightwig's eyes widened as she looked around, her breathing picking up as she tried to steady herself. Her heart was pounding now, faster than she liked, and she slowly backed away, scanning the darkness for any sign of where it had gone.
Then her back hit something. She stiffened instantly.
Slowly, she turned her head. The tall, faceless figure was standing directly behind her.
Up close, it felt even taller, its presence pressing down on her without it needing to move. Before she could react, before she could even pull away, a slender white hand lifted and reached toward her face.
She tried to scream, but no sound came out.
The moment its hand touched her, her face was simply gone, as if it had never been there at all. Her vision vanished with it, the world cutting out instantly as everything dropped into complete darkness.
...
While Zombozo stood at the center of it all, soaking in the endless laughter of the crowd, his machine hummed steadily behind him, pulling in every bit of joy it could. The audience laughed harder and harder, their voices blending into something constant, something unnatural, as their energy was drained away, pushing them closer to collapsing under their own forced amusement.
Then the light went out but the laughter didn't stop.
Zombozo paused mid-motion, his grin twitching slightly as the darkness swallowed the room.
"Huh? Who turned off the light!?" he shouted, his voice cutting through the noise just as the lights flickered back on.
He looked around, clearly annoyed, about to spin it into another joke, but before he could say anything, the lights cut out again, then flickered back on just as quickly.
"Okay, which bozo is messing with the light!?" he snapped, turning toward the direction of the switch. He started walking toward it, his steps quick and irritated as the lights continued to flicker on and off, never staying stable for more than a second.
When he finally got close enough to see it clearly, he stopped.
Someone was already there.
"Oi! Thumbskull! Stop messing with the-"
His words died in his throat as Thumbskull turned around. But there was no face.
Zombozo's grin faltered, his expression twisting into something uncertain, something that didn't quite fit him. For a brief second, he just stared, trying to process what he was seeing.
He didn't get the chance. Thumbskull suddenly charged forward and drove his fist straight into Zombozo's face, sending the clown stumbling backward and crashing onto the ground.
"You dare to strike me! How dar-"
He cut himself off as Thumbskull came at him again, faster this time, moving without hesitation, like a raging bull with no thought behind it.
Zombozo scrambled up and jumped, pulling out a large balloon and inflating it instantly, lifting himself just high enough to avoid the charge as Thumbskull rushed past beneath him.
"What is wrong with you-"
Something wrapped around his leg.
Before he could react, Frightwig's hair tightened and yanked him down hard, slamming him straight into the ground with enough force to knock the air out of him.
Zombozo groaned and forced himself up slightly, only to freeze again as he looked around.
His crew had surrounded him.
All three of them.
And none of them had faces.
The lights flickered again, the room shifting between dim and bright in uneven bursts. From the corner of his eye, something else came into view.
A tall, slender white figure stood at a distance, partially obscured by the inconsistent lighting. It wore a black suit, its body unnaturally still, and long, black tendrils extended from its back, swaying slightly as if they had a life of their own.
Zombozo felt his chest tighten.
For the first time, his grin didn't come back.
The tendrils moved as they slowly lifted him off the ground and stepped closer. Each step was steady, unhurried.
Zombozo's heart skipped, his face paling as the fear settled in, slow but undeniable. The laughter of the crowd was still going, still echoing around him, but now it felt distant, warped, mixing into something far less amusing.
"Wait- hold on-"
Before he could get anything else out, Thumbskull, Frightwig, and Acid Breath closed in around him. Without hesitation, they raised their feet and started kicking him, over and over, their movements mechanical and relentless.
Zombozo curled in on himself, trying to shield his head, but the blows kept coming. Through it all, he caught glimpses of the figure drawing closer, step by step, its presence becoming harder to ignore.
"No! No more!" he shouted, his voice breaking as panic finally took over.
Thumbskull delivered one final kick, sending Zombozo flying straight into his own machine.
The impact triggered something inside it.
The machine began to overload, its humming turning unstable before it collapsed in on itself with a sharp implosion. The energy it had gathered burst outward, releasing everything it had taken.
Blue, glowing souls shot out in every direction, rushing out of the building and scattering across the city, each one finding its way back to where it belonged, restoring what had been taken.
Inside, the crowd began to collapse, the forced laughter fading as they slowly regained control.
The lights went out again. This time, they stayed out.
A small flame flickered to life right in front of Zombozo, casting just enough light to show his terrified expression as he lay there, barely able to move.
He slowly looked up.
The faceless white figure was right in front of him, only inches away.
It leaned in slightly.
"…Boo."
Zombozo screamed, and exploded outward into a burst of confetti.
The flame flickered once more before going out.
The tendrils withdrew, pulling back from the three circus freaks before going still. Without that control, Thumbskull, Frightwig, and Acid Breath all collapsed where they stood, dropping like puppets with their strings cut.
A moment later, the lights came back on. And Slender was gone.
All that remained was a confused crowd, the ruined machine, and the three unconscious circus performers lying on the ground, with their faces restored, as if nothing had ever been taken from them at all.
...
The Rust Bucket rolled out of the fairgrounds just as the police started to flood the area, sirens cutting through what was left of the chaos.
Officers moved in quickly, securing the tent and taking the circus freaks into custody after putting together what had happened, the damaged parts of the town, the stolen goods piled inside, and the state the crowd had been left in.
From the back of the RV, Ben was in the middle of explaining everything, going over it piece by piece while Max and Gwen listened. He didn't skip much, from the moment things started feeling off to how everything spiraled once they got inside the tent.
Max leaned back slightly once Ben finished, arms crossed as he gave a small nod.
"You're not losers. Everybody's got their own crazy fears," he said calmly. "When I was a boy, I was afraid of heights. But I decided enough was enough, and I climbed to the top of the water tower. Sometimes, you just have to scare the fear out of you."
Ben looked over at him, not saying anything right away.
Max continued. "Happens to everyone at some point. The important part is figuring it out and not letting it happen again."
Ben exhaled, glancing off to the side. "…Yeah. I guess."
Gwen gave him a quick look, like she was about to add something, but decided against it. The point had already landed.
Up front, things were a little different.
"Are you sure about this, Dad?" Evan asked, both hands gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter than necessary as he kept his eyes locked on the road.
Stay Gold sat in the passenger seat, relaxed, like this was completely normal.
"Of course," she said without hesitation. "You're ten now. About time you learn. I'm not going to be behind the wheel forever."
Evan glanced at her for a second, then back at the road.
"…You say that like you're ancient."
"I've got six crazed kids and four unhinged wives, while old man Max behind us only has an unhinged wife, and two normal kids, not counting me," she replied, completely straight-faced. "That must count for something."
He didn't argue with that, but he still looked a little unsure.
"What if the cops pull us over?" he asked after a moment.
"Then we switch," Stay Gold answered immediately. "We look close enough. I've got the license, so it won't matter."
She pulled it out briefly, flashing it with a small, confident grin before tucking it away again.
Evan stared at her for a second, then shook his head slightly, trying to focus again as he adjusted his grip on the wheel.
"…This feels like a bad idea."
"You're doing fine," she said, like there was nothing to worry about. "Just keep it steady."
The Rust Bucket continued down the road, putting more distance between them and the fairgrounds as things finally started to settle.