Page 22 of House of Clowns

The crowd let out a gasp, murmuring in half-shocked, half-fascinated awe.

"What else would you like to see?" he called out, leaning toward the crowd, a devilish grin plastered across his face.

A voice from the stands shouted, "Put his arm in the tiger's mouth!"

Another added, "Make him jump with the tiger through fire!"

Then a third, still laughing darkly: "Let the tiger eat him! One less clown in the world!"

Laughter poured from the stands, a jarring, fractured noise.

Hypno raised a hand, laughing along. "Alright, alright! Let's get this over with!"

He strode over to me, then knelt, his eyes sparkling with promises left unsaid. He pulled his flute from his pocket and leaned in close. "Think of something—someone—that ties you to this place," he said, his voice low and soothing, "then something that will set you free."

I nodded, my jaw clenched.

"Close your eyes," he instructed, his hand pressing over them as I did. "Listen to my voice… and on the count ofone…" his voice dropped lower, wrapping around me like a shroud, "two…" I felt him stand, the faint shuffle of his feet the only sound in the silence, "three…"

The flute began to play, a haunting, eerie tune, circling me, dragging my thoughts into a tight spiral. The tune wrapped itself around me, tugging at my mind until everything went black.

And in that darkness, she arrived.

Chiara.

My Ace of Hearts.

She stood there, her red dress blood-red in the dim light, her skin soft as porcelain, dark curls tumbling around her shoulders, dancing as she moved toward me. She smiled, her eyes holding onto me, and I felt the tug of her presence, anchoring me. She whispered, her voice soft as silk,"You are the Joker now, born in the wild, far from the crowd."

I didn't want to let go. If she was what tied me here, then I was happy to stay bound to her forever.

Her voice drifted into my mind again, more softly this time, coaxing:"Walk to the tiger… so close… closer… closer."

My body moved in a strange, uncharacteristic calm; every step was pulled toward the very"white noise"of Hypno's flute, each sound absorbed by the grit of the sand beneath my shoes.

The tigers loomed ahead, their breaths hot against my skin, their roars vibrating in my chest; yet, I felt no fear, only a strange stillness. My hand lifted of its own accord, and my fingers stroked in gentle motions beneath the tiger's mouth. The great beast leaned its huge head against my chest, its weight a real anchor yet surreal.

"He likes you,"her voice whispered to my mind, soft coaxing."Now… put your palm in his mouth."

I took my hand closer and felt the tiger's coarse breath against my fingers, as its jaws opened to expose a set of sharp teeth shining in his mouth. But just as I started to push my hand inside, something yanked me back. Laughter swirled around me, jeering, mirthless, but I paid no heed, the tug of the flute drew me back toward the tiger. The rhythm swirled around me, luring me forward until, without warning, I found myself lying against the tiger's side, my body flung upon its fur.

The softness pressed into me, so soft, so soothing. As though I'd melted into it. My arms and legs—even they were weightless, suspended at lullaby stage through the music.

Then her voice cut in again, soft, warm:"Come back to me."

I wrenched myself from the tiger in a sudden jerk and half-stumbled backward toward the center chair in the ring. The notes of the flute softened, now fading as her voice set in, counting in a lumbering rhythm:"One… two… three."A loud, shrill clap of hands, like the crackling of thunder, verged on the darkness.

But even in that black, I still felt her, an ache gnawing inside me that needed to see her face. I struggled, pushing against thepull until I saw her again. This time, she was deep within a forest; her red dress was the only color in the dark woods, and her movements were frantic as if she were running, wounded, and vulnerable.

My voice was raw, desperate, as I tried to call out, but she couldn't hear. The dream spiraled into an endless nightmare, her form slipping from me with every taut moment that passed.

Applause.

I blinked, and she was standing there, near the edges of the tribunes, her face streaked with tears, eyes wide and shining. I reached for her, only to feel her slip away once more. The murmur busted through the crowd, with voices rough and taunting.

"Just throw him to the tiger!" someone said, answered by an eruption of laughter.

Suddenly, my head had written another whole scene of my escape, running far from all this madness. Instead, the face hovering inches off mine belonged to Hypno; his eyes aglow with a sick pleasure as he leaned over me, giggling.

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