Page 15 of Carnival Monster

But then Aurora’s cry shatters the fantasy, and I’m jolted back to reality. I watch as she cradles Charlotte’s limp form, her tears staining the fabric of her shirt. A strange emotion stirs within me, something akin to regret or...pity?

I shake my head, banishing the unwelcome feelings. This is no time for weakness, for second-guessing myself. Charlotte was merely a pawn in the game, a means to an end. Her life is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.

The monster’s disappointment that she’s still breathing is palpable. The darkness inside me howls its displeasure, demanding I finish what I started. But I force it down, reminding myself that she’s not important. Aurora is the prize, the one I’ve been waiting for.

Dan and Aurora carry Charlotte to the car, and I place my cell back into my pocket, a smile playing across my lips. The game has only begun, and I’ve got so many delicious horrors planned for my little Aurora.

She doesn’t know how deeply I’ve infiltrated her life. Soon, she’ll realize there’s no hiding from me, no escape from the shadows that have claimed her.

I can’t wait to see her face when she learns the truth. The thought sends a thrill through my veins, and I stifle a laugh. The real fun is just beginning.

10

AURORA

The sterile hospital waiting room is suffocating, the air thick with tension. I clutch Dan’s hand, his presence the only anchor keeping me from spiraling into the depths of my guilt-ridden thoughts. Every second that ticks by feels like an eternity, each minute compounding the weight on my shoulders.

“This is all my fault,” I whisper, my voice trembling with emotion. “If I hadn’t involved Charlotte in this mess, she wouldn’t be...” I trail off, unable to express the horrific possibilities.

Dan squeezes my hand. “Don’t do that to yourself. You had no way of knowing things would escalate like this.”

I glance down at the sketch of me in my hands. At least it’s the first bit of evidence I’ve got that my stalker is indeed real, not a figment of my imagination. Tears sting my eyes as Dan’s words offer little comfort. I got her into this mess. “I never should have told her. You know how she gets carried away with crazy plans.”

The memory of Charlotte’s playful teasing about my potential stalker floods my mind, and I feel nauseous. If I had listened to my instincts, maybe we wouldn’t be in this nightmare.

“Miss Montgomery?” A deep voice asks.

I glance up to see a police officer standing before me.

“Yes, that’s me.”

He nods. “I’m Officer Isley, can I take a statement from you? We need to understand what happened to your friend.”

I swallow hard and nod. “Of course.”

He sits in the chair opposite me with a notepad in his hand. “You and your friend here, Mr. Johnson, found Miss Kelly, is that correct?”

“Yes,” I reply.

“Can you explain the events leading up to finding her, please? Just walk me through it.”

I glance at Dan, who gives me an encouraging nod. “I felt I was being watched for a couple of days, but I had no evidence. It was just a feeling. So Charlotte and I devised a plan that she would follow me home at a distance and look out for anyone suspicious.” I draw in a deep breath, hating how dangerous that sounds now.

“However, when I got home, Charlotte wasn’t answering her phone, and she hadn’t followed me. I rang Dan who picked me up to go and check on her. When we returned to her apartment, she was slumped against the wall outside with this sketch pinned to her.” I pass it to the officer.

He glances down at it, brows furrowed. “So you believe whoever is stalking you attacked Miss Kelly and then pinned this to her as some kind of warning?” He asks, passing the sketch back to me.

I nod. “Yes. Don’t you need this for evidence or something?”

He shakes his head. “No, it won’t be of any use.”

My brow furrows as he continues to write in his notepad.

“Thank you, I think I’ve got all I need until the victim wakes. I’ll be back to speak to her when she does.” He pulls out a card. “If you think of anything, give me a call.”

I take it from him and nod. Officer Isley walks away, leaving me reeling as I stare down at the haunting sketch. It’s so like me that it scares me more than I’d like to admit—as if the artist didn’t only capture my likeness but also the darkness that resides within.

Dan clears his throat. “I don’t get why they wouldn’t want the sketch for evidence. Surely, they can run it for prints of something.”

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