Page 1 of Maison De Fous

chapter one

lux

A Toast To The Ghost - Diggy Graves

Our bus rolls into Fergus like a storm on the horizon—silent but heavy with the promise of chaos. I step off first, my boots crunching against the gravel and filling my lungs with the thick air that seems to promise rain. The skies are heavy, the clouds swirling in a way that mirrors the storm brewing inside me. Indie and Johnny follow, their presence as familiar to me as the darkness that clings to the night. The sign in front of us, weathered and cracked, welcomes us with faded letters: “Fergus—Where the Spirits Linger.”

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. This place feels right. The atmosphere of the town fits the spectacle we plan to unleash on the tiny town—a dark, twisted carnival of desires, where even your most depraved cravings can and will be satisfied. This event is going to be unlike anything Cirque Du Désir has ever done.

Fergus will be our canvas, and we’ll paint it red.

Indie steps up beside me, her gaze sweeping over the town with curious eyes. Her presence is intoxicating, a blend ofdanger and allure that keeps me on edge. She’s been with us for a few weeks now. Long enough that she knows how this shit works, but there’s something different about her now. I can see it in the way she carries herself, in the way her eyes gleam with excitement before every show.

Indie isn’t just along for the ride anymore—she’s a part of this, just as much as Johnny and I.

“What do you think?” I ask, my voice low.

Indie’s lips curl into a small, knowing smile. “I think it’s perfect.”

Johnny doesn’t speak, but I can feel his excitement radiating from him. He’s always been the quiet one, but his silence hides a mind as twisted as my own. Johnny thrives on the mayhem, the blood and the fear that we sow. With Dolly gone, he’s become my second hand. The one who ensures that everything runs smoothly—or as smoothly as it can when you’re orchestrating a fucked up night of madness.

We climb back on the bus, and drive further into town to explore and get a real feel of the place. Normally I don’t lead Cirque Du Désir to new towns or cities. I tend to enjoy returning to the places we’ve already been. Watching the fear and resentment in the eyes of the townsfolk when they see us pull up knowing full well the mess we left behind on our last visit. The local law enforcement won’t do anything about us or what happens under my big top. They can’t. Not when they themselves are some of my biggest and most loyal customers.

We walk through the deserted streets, the town all sound asleep, completely unaware of the nightmare we’re about to bring. Fergus looks like any other small town, with its quaint shops and neatly kept homes, but there’s something underneath, something rotten. I can feel it in the air, in the way the buildings seem to loom over us, watching. This place is haunted, all right,but not by ghosts. It’s haunted by the darkness that people try to hide, the urges they bury deep inside.

Urges we’re here to set free.

“Let’s head back and start setting shit up,” I say, breaking the silence.

The others nod, and Indie’s hand tightens around mine. A sheer sign of her excitement. We head to the clearing where the cirkies are already hard at work setting up all the different tents. This show, we did something a little bit different. While the big top is still the main focus, there are now tunnels off each corner that head off into a different tent. And each of those smaller tents, will be for a different side show. But they won’t be like the others, no, these ones will be run by us.

By Johnny, Indie and me.

Tonight I won’t be watching the depravity from my throne, but engaging, and fulfilling desires right along with the cirkies.

Tonight, I am the king, with Indie as my queen, and the customers, they are our loyal and willing servants. They are the peasants who come to us, and depend on us to give them everything they need, and like always under my big top, in my fucking kingdom, Cirque Du Désir will make all their deranged and twisted dreams a reality.

My eyes scan the empty field we picked out. The grass is overgrown, the ground uneven, but it doesn’t matter, because by the time we’re done, this place will be transformed into a living, breathing fucking nightmare.

As we work, my mind races with thoughts of what’s to come. The main event—the Halloween Harvest of Chaos, Carnage, and Contentment—will be unlike anything we’ve ever done. A true night of purging, where everyone who steps under our big top will become fair game. The masks we’ve prepared will strip away their identities, turning them into nothing more than beasts driven by their own desires. No one will know who’s standingbeside them, and that’s the beauty of it. Hidden behind the mask, there will be no punishment, no judgment—only the freedom to act on their darkest impulses.

This town will never be the same again.

As the tent begins to take shape, my thoughts find their way to my Indie. My eyes move to her as she ties down one of the ropes, her movements fluid and graceful despite the rough work. Indie has become a masterpiece—a perfect blend of beauty and danger unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. And she knows how to use both to her advantage. I’ve seen the way people look at her, the way their eyes linger, but never for too long. Because everyone knows who she is, and who she belongs to. She’s a force of nature, wild and untamed. She’s changed so much from that girl who first entered into my big top. So much so even I never expected her to become what she has. Not that I’m complaining. There is no sign of that once, pure and innocent girl anymore. Now, she is something else. Something more sinister and carefree.

The perfect fucking match for a monster like me.

Maybe somehow, I always knew she was meant to be this. To be mine. Maybe that’s why despite everything, I couldn’t stop myself from having her.

From tainting her.

The tent is almost complete now, towering above us like a dark cathedral of nightmares. The sides are black as ink, and the entrance is a gaping maw, ready to swallow anyone brave—or foolish—enough to step inside. Inside, it’s even darker, the only light coming from the lanterns the cirkies have hung from therafters. The shadows dance, flickering like the thoughts in my mind.

Johnny reaches my side and lights a cigarette, the glow from the tip casting his face in harsh relief. “This is gonna be one hell of a night,” he says, his voice rough as he offers me a cigarette.

I nod, my own excitement building as I pull one from his pack, and place it between my lips. “It’s going to be a goddamn shit show.”

He grins, a feral look in his eyes as he hands me the lighter. “Fuck, you got that right. I’ll make sure of it. But fuck if I’m not excited for all of it. My dick is hard just thinking about the fucked up shit that’s going to go down.”

---