Page 9 of Carnival Monster

For now, I’m blind. I tried hacking the security cameras around the town, but it was beyond my capability.

After fifteen agonizing minutes, she enters her apartment, locking the door and resting her back against it with her eyes shut. Once she calms down, she shuts the curtains and checks the locks on her windows—as if they could keep me out. Foolish girl. She doesn’t realize I’m already inside, watching her every move. The cameras give me a perfect view of her as she falls onto the sofa.

Last night, I couldn’t sleep, so I raided Phoenix’s stash of cameras and returned to set them up while she slept. Phoenix is the tech whizz at the carnival but rarely leaves his trailer.

Getting into her apartment was shockingly easy, as her locks aren’t very good quality. And then I returned to my trailer and watched her sleep all fucking night.

I recline in my chair, my gaze fixed on the screen. My dark side relishes the fear radiating off her in waves.

As the light begins to fade, I know I’ve got to get to work. But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop watching. I pull out my phone and open the app that streams the footage from her apartment. Now, I can observe her while working, my gaze never leaving her for a moment.

The voices in my mind whisper their approval, urging me to take things further. They want me to break her, to shatter that fragile innocence and mold her into something beautifully broken. And I will.

But for now, I’m content to watch and savor the anticipation that builds with each passing moment. She’s mine to play with, torment, and tease until she’s begging for mercy.

I fix my mask into place, the rubber settling over my features like a second skin. With a last glance at the computer screen, I shut it down and rise from my chair, stretching my muscles before heading out of my trailer.

Walking through the crowds, the usual thrill of the hunt is absent. Normally, the prospect of selecting a victim and unleashing terror would set my blood on fire, but tonight, I’m distracted.

Aurora consumes my thoughts.

Her name dances through my mind. I discovered it on a bill left carelessly on her kitchen table when she went to work. It suits her, a name that evokes the ethereal beauty of the dawn, the opposite of the darkness within me.

I move through the carnival on autopilot, my body going through the motions of scaring and intimidating, but my heart isn’t in it. The screams and laughs of the carnival goers barely register, drowned out by the constant loop of her name in my head.

Aurora. Aurora. Aurora.

The monster within me growls in frustration, urging me to focus on the hunt, to satisfy the bloodlust that gnaws at my soul. But for once, the craving for blood pales compared to the all-consuming need for her.

I shake my head, trying to clear the fog of obsession, but it’s useless. She’s under my skin, a fever I can’t sweat out.

Cade’s voice cuts through the din of the carnival, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Hey, Gage! Where have you been all day? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

I turn to face him, my eyes narrowing behind the mask. Normally, Cade’s presence is a welcome respite from the constant chatter of the other carnies. Tonight, however, his question grates on my nerves.

Fixing him with a cold, unwavering stare, I don’t speak. The muscles in my jaw clench as I fight the compulsion to lash out, to tell him to mind his own motherfucking business.

Cade shifts uncomfortably under my gaze, his brow furrowing in confusion. “You alright? You seem a little off.”

Stepping forward, my imposing frame looms over him. The shadow within me stirs, whispering its displeasure at being interrupted, at having to deal with Cade’s prying.

“I’m fine,” I grunt. “Just had some things to take care of.”

Cade nods slowly, his eyes searching mine through the holes in my mask for any hint of what those “things” might be. But he won’t find anything. I’ve perfected the art of keeping my true nature hidden, of presenting a blank, unreadable mask to the world.

“Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me,” Cade says, his tone cautious.

I give him a curt nod. “I know.”

Turning around, I stalk away, my long strides carrying me through the crowds. All the while, I sense Cade’s eyes on me.

Cade’s question echoes in my mind like an irritating buzz. The darkness inside me churns, frustrated by the interruption, by the constant need to maintain this facade of normalcy. I want nothing more than to return to my surveillance of Aurora.

I scan the faces around me and spot a disheveled man stumbling toward the forest’s edge. Perfect. My rage is building and I need a fucking outlet. His clothes are tattered and filthy, and he’s clutching onto a bottle of cheap booze. A homeless drunk, wandering where he shouldn’t. Someone who won’t be missed.

The monster stirs, sensing an opportunity. My pulse quickens and my muscles tense in anticipation. Without a second thought, I change course, following the man as he staggers into the tree line.

The sounds of the carnival fade away, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the snap of twigs under feet. The man doesn’t notice me trailing him, too far gone in his drunken haze.

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