Page 9 of Tamed By the Lion Freak

"Who are you?"

The man's laugh was bitter, devoid of any real humor. It scraped against Kitty's ears like broken glass. "Just another freak in Madame Noir's menagerie. And you're the newest attraction, aren't you? The fallen star, come to reclaim her glory."

Kitty bristled at his tone, anger flaring hot in her chest. It burned away some of the fuzziness in her brain. "Apparently, my job is to bank on my bad reputation."

"Job?" He barked out another humorless laugh. "Is that what you think this is? You're just the latest in a long line of Madame Noir's playthings."

"I'm not anyone's plaything," she snapped, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

"You still don't get it, do you?" he said, his voice softer now, almost sad. "There's no 'job' here. There's no leaving. This place owns you now. Body and soul. You made a deal with the devil."

A chill ran down Kitty's spine at his words, raising goosebumps along her arms despite the stuffy heat of the tent. "I didn’t make a deal.”

“Didn’t you?”

Kitty thought about it. “I accepted a job offer.”

He grunted and shook his head. “You’re trapped, just like the rest of us.”

“I'm not a prisoner here. I can walk away any time I want. As long as I’m back three hours before the show," she said, recounting Madame Noir’s words.

The man's bitter smile returned, twisting his handsome features into something almost grotesque. "And what do you think will happen if you’re not back in time?”

“I’ll get a talking to. Written up.”

"Don’t let it happen," he said. He turned away, his dismissal like a physical blow. "Do yourself a favor, Kitty. Stay away from me. And if you have any sense at all, you'll find a way out of here before it's too late."

With that ominous warning, the man strode away, leaving Kitty rooted to the spot. Her mind reeled, a whirlwind of confusion and fear. Those eyes burned in her memory, golden and fierce. But what was even more strange was Leo wasn’t in his cage. In fact, she couldn’t find him anywhere.

For the rest of the day, Kitty wandered the carnival looking for the big lion. How could you misplace a five hundred lbs. cat? As she searched for him, she grew more and more afraid. No one would tell her where the lion was. How could she do this show—any show—without rehearsing? The man's cryptic words echoed in her skull, though. Every shadow seemed to hide a threat, every laugh carried an undercurrent of hysteria. She tried to focus on learning the layout, but her eyes kept darting back to the exits, counting steps, measuring distances.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky in bruised purples and sickly oranges, Kitty found herself at the edge of the carnival grounds. The imposing gates loomed before her, twisted metal reaching skyward like grasping fingers. Beyond them lay the promise of the outside world, of freedom. Her heart raced, palms slick with sweat. It was two hours before showtime.

"You're not thinking of leaving, are you?"

The silky voice froze Kitty's blood in her veins. She whirled, nearly losing her balance on the uneven ground. Madame Noir stood mere feet away, a knowing smile playing on her crimson lips. How had she approached so silently?

"N-no," Kitty stammered, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to steady. "I was just wondering when the crowd would start to arrive."

Madame Noir's smile widened, showing too many teeth. They gleamed in the fading light, unnaturally sharp. "Soon."

That single word carried a weight of promise and threat that made Kitty's stomach churn. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. As she turned to go, movement caught her eye. One of the other performers – a man covered in intricate tattoos that seemed to writhe on his skin – was sprinting towards the gate.

"Freddy, no!" someone shouted. But it was too late.

The tattooed man reached the gate and bounced back as if he'd hit an invisible wall. The sound of impact was sickeningly wet, like a ripe melon being split. He crumpled to the ground, body contorting at unnatural angles, a high keening escaping his lips.

Kitty's legs gave way, and she fell to her knees in the dust. Bile rose in her throat as her gaze darted between the fallen man and Madame Noir. The carnival owner's expression hadn't changed, that same eerily pleasant smile still in place. Her eyes, though, they glowed with an inner fire that was anything but human.

"Run along, Kitty," Madame Noir said flatly. "Freddy and I have a few things to discuss."

Kitty's body moved of its own accord, scrambling to her feet and fleeing blindly into the maze of tents and trailers. Her heart thundered in her chest, blood thundering in her ears. Ragged gasps tore from her throat as she ran, no longer caring where she was going, just needing to put distance between herself and what she'd just witnessed.

Finally, lungs burning and legs trembling, she skidded to a stop. She doubled over, hands on her knees, fighting to catch her breath. When she straightened, her stomach dropped. She was back at the main gate. How did she get back here?

The metal bars sneered at her, an implacable barrier between captivity and freedom. Panting, Kitty stared at it. Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out a hand. She expected to feel nothing but air. Instead, her fingers met resistance, an invisible barrier crackling with energy. Pain lanced up her arm, and she snatched her hand back with a strangled cry.

"I told you so,” a familiar voice said from behind her.

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