Deep in the woods, hidden in darkness…
There it lies, a madman's circus……
The ringmaster, with his deadened eyes……
Comes welcoming, jaws gaping wide….

All of the cast, they are smiling….
Their bodies, bruised and distorted….
But look here, doesn't this seem fun…?
Come now, explore! The madman's circus….

He hadn't known what to think when he first ventured into the woods, seeking out the circus that was advertised on the gothic looking flier clutched in his hand. It'd been shoved at him by a brunette in tattered rags, obviously a costume, that morning on his way to school, and Light had barely had time to get a word in edge wise before the woman was off distributing more fliers. Of course, Light hadn't been planning on going. Why would he? It certainly wasn't his sort of thing. But after looking over the sheaf of paper, which boasted the words Madman's Circus in sparkling black gilt script, he'd let his curiosity run wild. What would it be like, this "Madman's Circ us"? Would it be more thought out than the silly carnivals his mother had dragged him to as a child? Would there be real entertainment, rather than clowns in primary colors, or so called attractions that everyone knew were just fakes in costumes? The woman passing out the fliers hadn't looked anything like them. She'd been filthy, her clothes actually unkempt looking, and stained with dirt. The same could be said for her hair and face. And there had been…something in her gaunt eyes. It was scary, dark, and strangely appealing.

Light couldn't resist finding out more about the kind of circus that could inspire such emotion.

So he'd followed the evening crowd out of the city as they made their way to an old patch of woods that seemed cut off from the world itself. The twisting, winding path they'd walked had seemed eerily dark, but then torches had come into view, and soon enough the auburn haired boy was looking at a massive red tent surrounded by miniature versions with curtained doorways, and grounds that were filled with the most odd, disturbingly beautiful sights he'd ever witnessed in all his fifteen years. There were cages with massive iron bars. Some were curtained off, but others were free for viewing. Across the grounds was a makeshift enclosure that had several stalls set up, and he smelled something delicious coming from them. Balloons and streamers littered the sky above his head, and everything was lit with a red-orange glow, skulls carved into the bone white torch shafts.

But Light was more interested in the people. Especially the performers mingling with the crowds. He spotted a boy with amazingly red hair being led around on a leash, arms bound behind his back, and a man with glasses and the faded remains of a suit wearing large metal devices on his hands and wrists. They looked painful, but he didn't seem to notice. Light frowned, turning towards the main tent and widening auburn eyes. Two figures stood out front, but their bodies appeared…distorted. Their limbs were too long, each easily the whole of Light's height,. The male of the two, an albino dressed in a white suit, was holding the hand of a woman with ash blond hair. They towered over Light easily by several feet, and it took him a few seconds to realize they were up on stilts. That was why they appeared so strange.

Easily ignored, but not forgotten, the brunette started walking towards the big tent and the stilted couple, nearly missing the figure that watched him from the shadows. Nearly.

He was dark haired and had skin the color of a corpse, though he was clearly alive. He moved out of the darkness, black fingernails scraping across the tent. Light honestly thought they more resembled claws. There was that same something that called to him, but at the same time…..this one was dangerous. And the brunette was no fool. Wary, he watched the man who was scarily tall, even without the aid of stilts, shuddering when he came slinking towards the tent. A cold sank through the teen's flesh, chilling him to the very bone. He shivered, and it must have pleased the man, for he fixated him with eyes that couldn't be natural. Contacts, surely. No one really had eyes the shade of freshly spilt blood, or fire as it burnt down into smoldering coals. It wasn't possible for human eyes to be so--alive either. As cold as his flesh was, the male's irises were a complete opposite. Hot and wild, they burned Light to the core, threatening even to consume him whole if he stared too long.

Wary enough to take a step back, the teen watched the raven haired man breeze past him, and there was a heart stopping moment where red met caramel, and that pale mouth spread wide in a vicious slash, filled to the brim with pointed teeth better belonging to a wolf. The man leered, perhaps knowing Light's thoughts, and he went into the tent. Up above, the stilted companions looked at Light, and he them. They were waiting for him. He was the last of the crowd to be heading into the tent before the show started. Light hesitated, for good reason, He had just seen a worthy adversary for any Shinigami go in there. There was no delaying the inevitable though. He'd come here to see the show, satiate his curiosity. If he turned back now, then he knew he'd never forgive himself. Nor would his mind, which craved any new stimuli it could get.

Drums thrumming inside the tent signified the show's start. Light glanced behind him, back the way he'd came, and reminded himself that there was no turning back now. He wouldn't allow himself. Therefore, he fixed his shirt and quietly entered the tent, glimpsing the two performers outside give each other looks, and the vision of gaping jowls with glistening teeth forever framed in his mind.

A Dresden doll, half broken…..
The star, her chords paralyzed…..
A puppet on the Ringmaster's arm…..
She cries and screams, but nobody comes…..

It wasn't hard to find a seat. There were several in the back row, and a few up front. Light, already tentative after seeing the strange male, was tempted to climb the stairs and sit in the back, as his instincts told him to do. He was an intelligent man though, and wasn't about to let paranoia get in the way of a new experience. He met himself halfway, choosing a seat near the middle of the bleachers just as the spotlights flared, illuminating the center of the dark arena. At first the glare blinded the audience, Light included, but he focused and quickly spotted the brunette from before. He was standing in the white glow, eyes downcast, and a sudden epiphany struck the teen. This was the ringmaster!

He hadn't been able to tell outside, since it was dark, but here in the light it was made clear. The man was dressed as a traditional ringmaster might, sporting striped trousers and a coat with tails. It was as white as his skin, with black detailing on the shoulders that resembled his claws. He wore a smart red waistcoat with silver and gold embroidery, and a black shirt with ruffles and a jeweled pin at his throat. The outfit seemed quite normal in appearance, until Light noticed the florescent hued flowers sewn onto patches of the cloth. Pink, green, blue; they even decorated the man's top hat and the scarf wrapped around his waist. Light thought it was weird. What was stranger were the red splatters mingled in with the flowers. Was that supposed to be blood? With a name like Madman's Circus, he wouldn't have been surprised.

It made his stomach writhe however, and the teen stilled in his seat, the breath leaving his lungs in a soft burst as the ringmaster lifted his head. Not quickly though. Inch by creeping inch, until his Cheshire grin was bared once more, and those lewd eyes that Light swore could see into the depths of his soul. Those very orbs perused the crowd in thoughtful contemplation, falling on Light after a moment and lingering, drinking him in. Light stared back, unable to look away. This must have pleased the man, for he laughed and swung an arm out, claw tipped fingers splayed open in delight.

"Welcome, honored guests! I see that we have a lovely audience tonight." Again he looked at Light, and he swore that those lips curved just a little bit higher in the corners. "Perfect. I hate not having the pick of the crop to choose from." A snake like tongue brushed across his teeth, and he made that dry sounding laugh once more, withdrawing a cane from behind his back and stabbing it, point first, into the ground. The whole crowd jumped, tittering with amusement and anxiousness. Apparently Light wasn't the only one who found the ringmaster unnerving. "I hope you all didn't come here expecting a normal circus," he crooned, stroking the ornate metal of his cane. Light noticed the top was shaped into an abstract B. "Because here?" Ruby irises gleamed, a canine flashing in the spotlight. "You won't find it. Here, we're all madmen. Some of us just haven't realized it yet."

Strange, but those words gave the brunette more reason to feel nervous than anything else.

If the ringmaster had more to say, he didn't show it. Instead he snapped two of those spidery fingers, and a woman came out of the shadows. Light recognized her as the flier girl from earlier in the day. But instead of papers, this time she was pushing a cage on wheels, which rattled across the tent's makeshift wooden floor until it joined the man in his spotlight. The crowd looked on eagerly, a feeling that was, hesitantly, shared by Light. And damn if the fang toothed male didn't recognize it, for his gaze once again solely belonged to the brunette as he drew the cage's protective sheet off, revealing its contents. A girl…or was it a boy? They sat on their haunches and had legs sprawled out on the cold metal floor, their only protection stained stockings and black Mary Jane's. They also wore a dress, a patch-work affair that was pale blue and had the same flowers sewn on it as the ones decorating the ringmaster's jacket and top hat. The clothes immediately made Light think girl, but there was a nagging suspicion in his gut that told him that it was a boy merely being dressed as a girl for the crowd's entertainment.

Yet there was still more to the caged one than was visible to the naked eye. Leaning off his seat, Light had to control himself as he saw the boy's face. It was riddled with hideous scars. They marred the whole right half of his face, webbing the pale skin with vicious looking cracks. And the blooms extended upward, blossoming from the scars as if they were soil, not human flesh. Honestly, Light had no idea how they were staying there. Latex? A mild sort of glue? He seemed to be the only one considering the logistics behind it though. Everyone else gasped and cried out in shock, pointing fingers at the cage and the boy inside. The brunette couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him. Those scars, if real, had to have been damn painful to receive. They looked bad too. Third degree. He was surprised the boy was alive, much less functioning.  

"Let me introduce our first star of the night," the ringmaster drew their attention back to him, coattails glittering as he waltzed over to the cage. "This poor little wretch crawled out of the depths of Hell itself in an attempt to escape his failings. And he has the marks to prove it." Pale fingers reached through the bars, pinching a lank piece of golden hair and lifting it up to better show off the boy's scars. The crowd gasped even louder than before. Light, also looking at the blond, glanced to the ringmaster and saw the pleasure in his eyes. He was….excited by their reactions. And seemed interested in the teen's specifically.

A ratty looking redheaded boy appeared out of the wings, and he quietly joined the ringmaster in his spotlight, offering a ring of keys that jingled like bones. Light noticed that the boy looked malnourished, and his eyes, while a lovely shade of green, were gaunt, as if he never slept. But he didn't get much more of a chance to observe him. The boy scampered out of the ring, though not before giving the blond in the cage a long look. Frowning, Light tried to make sense of that, and was still confused when the performer crumpled to the floor outside his cage, blue eyes gazing up at the crowds and staring, unblinking. It was more than eerie. Where the ringmaster had a gaze that could electrify the blood, this one chilled him to the very pits of his soul. Forget eerie. It was downright disturbing. And those scars and gravity defying blossoms weren't helping.

"Tut tut." Skeletal fingers clasped the boy's chin, turning his face up. "The poor thing. He fought so hard against his fate. He just didn't know any better then. But he certainly does now." Smiling like a demon, the man on stage jerked his so called "star" to his feet and made him gasp, though not an ounce of pain showed on his two halved face. "You don't make a deal with the devil and come away unscathed."

"Everyone has to pay their dues." Light mumbled, and then started. Had he really just agreed with that man?

…..in a twisted, roundabout sort of way, he was sure he had.

Whether or not the man had heard him was unclear, but the teen was certain that those ruby irises looked him over again before turning back to his captive, hands starting a caress of his silky hair that came off to Light as a master preening his pet. "Well now. I think it's high time that our little Dresden doll went to play. Don't you all?" He didn't wait for a reply. The ringmaster picked up the boy, taking a moment to fix his little apron and the pleats of his dress, and then carried him towards the stands, literally out of the arena. There was a horrifying moment where Light and the ringmaster were mere feet away, only the seats offering any barrier between them, and then he was walking up the connecting staircase, still carting that hideous doll….boy. "He just loves having company. Our cast often times gets very lonely, uprooted as we are from the rest of the world, so I like to encourage a healthy interaction with the audience. It makes things more interesting."

No…nonono. Light screamed the word inside his head, but there was nothing he could do. That devil of a man entered his row and, after pretending to peruse the available seats, lowered the doll dressed blond into the seat directly beside him. "His name is Mellylocks," he crooned, patting the boy's cheek. "He's our precious Dresden doll. The most rare of all you know."

Was he supposed to say something? Light itched to cry out, retaliate. He didn't want that creepy looking boy sitting next to him! Even now he could feel those cold eyes gouging holes into his skull, that broken face bland, yet disturbing too. "I…." biting his tongue, Light forced a pleasant smile onto his face, meeting the ringmaster's stare and, somehow, managing not to flinch. He refused to make a mockery of himself in front of the entire crowd. And their eyes were all on him, so he couldn't take any chances. "He….certainly is a sight to behold. You must be very proud." Disgusted, Light lifted his hand and, with the whole crowd watching, pat the blond on his curly head. "You couldn't ask for a better doll than…ahh--Mellylocks."

The "doll" didn't respond, save for looking up at the red eyed man towering over them both and frowning. "….My name isn't Mellylocks. And his name is B." He pointed at the ringmaster, expectantly turning to Light and placing his hand back in his lap. "If you call him Ringmaster, that'll make him happy. We don't like him to be happy. He doesn't deserve it. So I call him B. That's his real name."

Light felt his mouth tumble open in a stunned look, which was incorrectly mirrored by the ringmaster--B's smile and laugh. "He's usually a very good boy, but he does have his temperamental moments. I promise though, he's not violent. And if he misbehaves, feel free to berate him." His smile turned cold, a bone thin finger coming up to explore the blond's scarred cheek, running over the ridges and the flowers that Light still remained mystified by. How did they stay on? "Better yet, ask him how he got his scars. That always shuts him up. After all, you know what they say. A chatty boy is a naughty boy," B sing songed,  waltzing back down the stairs and back into the arena before the teenager had any chance to argue. Those raspy tones were still burning in Light's ears when he finally came to his senses, and he scooted to the far side of his seat, avoiding contact with the blond haired boy, ah….Mellylocks. He'd said that that wasn't his real name, but he had nothing else to call him. Besides, a spooky nickname was more than appropriate in this case. He was at a circus run by a fang toothed ringmaster with red eyes, and his stars were people with disturbing afflictions. Yes, Mellylocks seemed just fine for use here.

Everyone was looking at Light and his company. He heard several people behind him chatting about it, many commenting on how disturbing this all was. Light couldn't help but agree. But those people didn't have a cross-dressing boy sitting beside them, much less one covered in burns that looked raw, as if they were constantly picked at. If anyone had a right to feel uncomfortable, it was him! "It's all part of the show," he muttered, fisting his hands and looking at the spotlighted arena. "It's just harmless entertainment…"

"If you really think that, then you're an idiot," Mellylocks retorted. Light gaped at him, and that frigid, glassy stare turned his way, unblinking and colder than glacial ice. "You heard what B said."

"What? What are you talking about?"

He didn't respond. Indeed, his attention had turned back to the show. Surprised, Light stared a moment longer, half wondering if that was all part of their act; sending a cast member up into the stands, letting him rile the crowd into a state of anxiety and fear. It would make sense. And with a crazy ringmaster like B controlling the show…….he shivered, fixing the hem of his shirt and struggling to get comfortable. Things had only just gotten started, hadn't they?

A master of performing and creating tension, B waited until the crowd had effectively settled down before lifting his cane, the silver glinting weakly under the lights. That must've been some sort of cue to the other performers, because all at once the arena took on a ruddy glow, like the air itself had been dipped in blood. Light grimaced, watching his clothes bleed red. He used to like that color. After the show, he was going to go home and burn anything in his wardrobe containing it.

Red deepened, mingled with a few black lights, save for a single white spotlight resting on the solitary figure standing proud in the ring. "I think it's time that we continue the show…" and the ringmaster smirked, a fang curling over his bottom lip. "In a lifetime, there only comes one or two special souls amongst the millions of others. They are the reason humanity exists. They could do anything, if inspired enough. But their talents so often go unnoticed. People celebrate mediocrity, and the mundane. The unusual are cast aside, left to be forgotten in their own personal hells. So these poor fools hide themselves, choosing to remain unseen, never knowing just how special they are. But not here. Never here." B pointed his staff towards the left, and the tent seemed to part, a cloak of darkness beyond. "We don't hide. We embrace our true natures, and welcome the unusual! And when we find one of those rare souls that embody what we adore most.."

He paused, garnet eyes raping the crowd. Each and every attendee shuddered, all save for Light. He froze, horror blotting out any sense of disgust, B's gaze painfully cruel as it swept over him from head to toe. "……when we find them," he crooned, stroking pale lips with the tip of his tongue. "We TAKE them. And we never let them go."

That feeling of horror spread throughout his entire body. Light pressed back into his seat, gripping the arms tightly between tawny fingers. Special souls? True natures? Never let them go? What the hell was he talking about?! This ringmaster--he was freaking insane. Only a freak would say something creepy like that. "What's going on," he whispered, heart pounding as he watched B strut across the arena and reach into the darkness beyond the tent, his clawed hand vanishing inside the black. "This is pretty strange for a circus…"

"This isn't a circus. Not the kind you're thinking of anyway." His head never turned, but Light had the distinct feeling that Mellylocks was staring at him. "Did you really think it was?"

Light didn't have his chance to answer. The ringmaster had his prize, and he was returning to the center stage. But what he pulled behind him, all set up in a rusted out wagon with a handle decorated with colorful streamers, was far more curious and revolting than the flower encrusted wretch sitting beside him. Resting in the wagon was a pole that stretched nearly six feet high. It was thick, made of a sturdy looking wood, and it was splattered from top to bottom in congealed patches of black and red. Many resembled blood, but others….burns? Something about it all reminded the brunette of the stakes that witches had once been burned out. There were metal rings attached to the top of the pole, chains threaded through the holes and wrapping all around the wood, clinking and rustling forebodingly. "What…?"

B's mouth was twisted into another of its hideous grins. "Of course, while we cherish those special few who belong with our little family, there are those that we just can't stand." The wagon groaned, tugged behind him. "Naysayer's. Corruptors. Those millions of others who try to destroy any speck of originality in the world. You know the type." He stopped at the arena's center, still holding the handle tightly in his hand. Light suddenly got a strange feeling. "There are plenty of them out there, and we try so hard to ignore them! But sometimes they flap those poison tongues just a bit too much. That's when we have to fight back. To protect our special ones, our precious souls. I'm sure you understand."

Strangely enough, Light thought he did. There was never any harm in protecting something important to you. But there was a difference between what B was talking about, and the type of protection Light valued. Justice. Following the law. Protecting the innocents from the wicked. He had no doubt these concepts were lost to the ringmaster. Still though….he understood where the man was coming from. That terrified him more than anything else he'd seen so far. "But what do you do with them…those people who hate you?"

He wondered out loud, surely not loud enough for the man below to hear. Yet it seemed he did, and B smiled, a horrible glint in his eyes. "I have one of those people here. She spent her whole life believing she was special. Prettier, smarter; a real gem. Ha!" His laugh rang through the tent, dry and insane. "She ridiculed those beneath her. She made it her mission to flaunt herself amongst those she deemed inferior, spouting bits of intelligence like they were some priceless symphony! Ah, but she made a mistake. She came here, to MY circus, and tried to say that we had no right existing." He positively leered at the crowd, leaning forward. "She said we were sinners. Murderers. Well, I say that she was the murderer! She killed the souls of all those around her, with no hint of pity for her crimes. Like some kind of siren, she sang her little songs of superiority and lies, the bitch. And if you were useful, she'd leech off you like a fucking parasite, sucking away at your very spirit. She'd steal your light…"

Steal your light…..the teenager frowned, nervously wetting his lips. Mellylocks said nothing beside him, but Light noticed a cold look in his eyes. Maybe he hated the ringmaster, but he obviously felt no pity for the woman B was talking about. Honestly, Light wasn't too sure if she would either. He loathed girls like that. They thought they were queens, and everyone had to wait on them hand and foot. He'd seen plenty at school, and they all seemed to latch on to him, craving his presence, and eager to use his charm and appeal for their own purposes. No, he felt no pity.

The wagon wheels gave another loud creak, and B dropped the handle, facing the crowd and sneering. "Would you like to see, my dear guests? Would you like to see what we do to little sirens?" He kicked the wagon, making it spiral around and display the other side. "Here! Get an eyeful!"

"…………"

"Oh my GOD!"

The pole wasn't just a pole. His mind had supplied the connection to the past earlier, and now kept his terror fueled while Light stared at the woman chained to the wood with rusted manacles, blood seeping down her too pale arms. He registered the people around him screaming; some were even too stunned to utter more than choked sounding cries. All appeared deaf to him though, just as they likely did her. The performer, or was it a prisoner, was a monstrosity of bruises and bandages, the latter covering her face and arm from neck to wrist. A dark blue orb peeked out from the cotton, but that was all he could see that even bespoke of a real human living under the damage. It looked on in horror, growing wider and wider as the ringmaster circled her, his staff scraping across the floor. His spider like fingers swept across her throat, and the ring of metal cinched tightly around it. It almost resembled a collar, and Light was sure that's what it was--save for the thin, needle like probes coming out of it. Actually, the longer he thought on it, they more resembled--crochet needles. Or something similar. But what on earth were they for?

B's fingers pinched one of the needles, thumb running down the gleaming metal. "This witch had the gall to insult us here at this circus. That's what her kind does. They lie and sneak, and when they don't get what they want--" he smirked at her, and Light swore he saw the woman shudder, fight against her bonds. "I guess it hardly matters now. I gave her the punishment that was long overdue. A lifetime of misery, just like the ones she forced upon others. Isn't that right, my poor little songstress?" He gave the metal a sharp tug, and the woman responded with a muffled scream. How Light could hear her was a mystery, since her face was shrouded with bandages. But he did, and the sounds echoed in his ears. "Sing for us, dear songstress! Let the people hear what happens to those who try and condemn this circus, my performers." B leaned down and hissed by her ear, though his eyes never left the crowd. "Show them what happens when someone tries to take away what's mine…."  

Light watched on in shock as he roughly turned the needle to the right. The bound woman seemed stupefied for a moment, and then a terrible shriek filled the air, wavering through the bloody light with a terrible ease. B laughed, giving her device's key, for that was all the brunette could relate it to, another vicious twist before sashaying away from the wagon, leaving her there to scream and cry bitter tears that smeared her makeup into razor thin trails of black liner. "That's--inhuman," he whispered, tasting bile on his tongue. Even if she was one of those manipulative women he'd always frowned upon, that was no reason to treat her so cruelly! She was in pain, and had clearly been tortured by the ringmaster, maybe even his entire circus! That was just….wrong. The ends did not justify the means!

……….or did they?

What was that saying? Do unto others as you would have done unto you? Light had always found such an idea appropriate, at least in the world of criminals. Murderers; rapists; they deserved nothing short of death. So why couldn't that apply everywhere else too? A person who gives another nothing but suffering should surely receive the same. It was only fair. Light gnawed the corner of his lip, sparing the ringmaster a quick, cursory glance. He did say that the woman had all but verbally attacked them…..her intentions were nothing but malicious, surely. She deserved to be--

Grimacing, he gave himself a mental smack. He couldn't believe such a twisted thought had crossed his mind! No one deserved to suffer like this woman clearly had! What had she really done to deserve such vicious treatment? Manipulate a few people? Lie, cheat? Everyone did that. It was just a fact of life. And even if she had said some terrible things to the performers and their ringmaster, that wasn't reason enough for this--this torture! Not by a long shot! B was just using all those as excuses to get his kicks, Light was sure. The man was probably psychotic. He certainly looked the part, with that eerie smile and too red eyes.

Wasn't that the point though? Unsure, the teen drummed his fingers and pondered the woman again. All of those wounds, the cuts and bruises…they could be nothing more than cleverly used makeup. Yes, that was it! Why hadn't he thought of it before. This was a circus. Everyone had a part to play. The stilt walkers outside, Mellylocks, The ringmaster. They were all just playing a role. It was part of the fun! Sure, their respective parts were rather…unsettling, but Light couldn't be too surprised. This was the Madman's Circus, after all. Everyone was supposed to be a little mad. Hence the disturbing attractions, and the ringmaster's attempts to drive them into screams. He was simply doing his job, making sure they got their money's worth. If that meant portraying a psychotic ringmaster who liked to fuck with people, then so be it.

Light nodded, trying to assure himself. A logical deduction. It was all perfect….except for one thing.

Those eyes….the man's hideous, abnormally red eyes. They couldn't be real. The color could be faked, but what about the madness? The hatred and loathing? The intrigue he'd seen, when he first entered the circus grounds? There was too much in those bloody depths and the desire Light had seen--it was raw, encompassing. Too many emotions, so much need. No human, no MAN, could have eyes like that. They belonged to a freak. A madman….

Ignorant of the thoughts his guest was having, B took his hand and ran it through the woman's hair, head cocked to the side in mocking wonder. "You all look so serious," he laughed under his breath. Serious? The entire crowd looked as if they might throw up. Light felt their pain. "Did you forget that it's all just a show? My my, so quick to assume the worst of us. Surely you didn't think we would really torture a poor, innocent woman? " Moving away from the wagon, he brushed a fleck of dust off his coat and idly twirled his staff, the B winking and drawing the people's eyes away from the woman as she was drawn back offstage by the same red haired boy that had towed Mellylocks' cage. Light was the only one that noticed, just as he was the only one to hear her final scream before she vanished into the blackness, a colorful curtain falling over the archway that led only god knows where.

He should've felt more at ease with her gone, but he didn't. Act or not, those cries would haunt him for a good while to come. And if they didn't, then the ringmaster surely would. "I wonder what he has planned next." Uncertain, the brunette looked at his…companion, but Mellylocks simply returned his stare and said nothing, hands folded neatly on the lap of his dress. "………..what is the ringmaster going to do now," he tried again, and the re-wording seemed to spark something in the blond's icy blues. Perhaps he was only supposed to respond to a certain question? Light knew all too well that wording was very important, especially in sensitive situations. This was hardly a courtroom or jailhouse, but the principle was the same. "Well?"

Mellylocks stared at him for a few more unsettling moments, never blinking, only watching, then he rose from his seat and drew everyone's attention. Including B's. "You're a monster." Walking down the steps that lead back into the tent's pit, the little blond went to the ringmaster's side and looked up at him, and for the first time the whole night, Light saw a flicker of emotion on his scarred face. Loathing. "Quit scaring them needlessly and get it over with. They came here to see the attractions, not listen to you rant all night. I know you don't care about all these people anyway. You just want your special someone. But if you wait too long, you won't even have that. So hurry up and get them out of here. You're wasting everyone's time."

Confusion clouded the auburn eyes watching the blond from his seat, and Light's frown deepened ever so slightly. What was he talking about? A ringmaster was supposed to entertain a crowd. Why was Mellylocks encouraging them to leave?

B smiled and toyed with a golden curl framing the boy's face, earning him a disgusted look. "So impatient. You know, a good piece of china is the kind that sits on its shelf and looks pretty, and gets used when it's needed. But more importantly, it's seen, but never heard." The last was hissed, and everyone shuddered. The sound far more resembled a snake than anything human. "If you really feel the need though, then by all means. LEAVE." Wearing a cruel smile that showed his teeth, he caressed one of the flowers decorating Mellylocks' scars and then shoved him away. "Go back to your cell and wait for them there. Feed the mutt while you're at it. But the show must go on, even if you've decided to be a spoilsport."

Mellylocks glared at him, wasting no time and quickly leaving the tent. Contrary to what he would've thought, Light felt more uncomfortable when he left, and he fought desperately to keep himself from getting too flustered and anxious. It failed though, and just when he thought B was done with his little speech, that smile was turned onto the crowd, a horrible look fixated on each and every individual before it landed on the handsome brunette. "No worries though, my dear. I was only going to everyone my puppet before letting them go. She can keep everyone company while they explore!" His smile grew toothier, teeth sharp and glimmering. While he was sure that the words were supposed to sound as if they were directed at Mellylocks, Light had the distinct feeling that that was only a ruse. "In fact, I think I see her now." A ragged fingernail painted black as squid blood pointed to the stands below him, and B laughed. "What a naughty puppet you've been! You weren't hiding from our guests, were you? Come, get down from there! I'm sure everyone's just dying for a good look at you…"

…….what? But--but he'd seen the stands coming in! There was nothing there. The whole row of bleachers in front of him was empty. No one was comfortable with the notion of sitting that close to the ringmaster, a fact that didn't surprise Light at all. Yet B acted as if someone was there. And someone was.

Before everyone's eyes, the metal shook, rattled, as if something were gripping it to pull themselves up. One by one, fingers crept over the railing and splayed out, nails scratching and pinching, the tips dark with dried gore. If Light had felt horrified at the arrival of the songstress, then this…this must be what a journey into hell would feel like. He couldn't turn his eyes away though. All he could do was watch as a girl rose up from the bleachers, lank blond hair hanging all in her face, two pigtails jutting out from the sides of her skull and tied with flowery black ribbons. She was terrifying to look at. Her black dress long faded to a dingy grey, the corset ratty and stockings stained with blood. He imagined it was blood anyway. There was a bandage wrapped around her eyes, streaks of red long dried on her cheeks and throat. Even with the covering, Light got the basic idea.

Her eyes--they'd been ripped out.

"Come here darling," the ringmaster held out his hand, beckoning with a claw. Slowly, like she might fall over any second, the girl walked down the steps. She only stopped for a moment, turning her head around and listening to the crowd's shocked exclamations. Light gaped at her, listening to the clink, clink as she walked towards B, the sleeves of her dress hanging to the floor and mingling with a string of chains that ended in padlocks locked around her upper arms. "A lovely puppet, don't you think? She was a true diamond in the rough. Hunted down like an animal, and wanted by many--why, we were lucky to sink our claws into her!" Taking one of the chains in his hand, B yanked her to the floor, where she sat, never moving. A motionless doll ready to do his bidding. Light was horrified. "Unfortunately, by the time we found her, the damage was done. She'd seen too much….such terrible things. I couldn't let her suffer." His fingernail scraped up the gaunt hollow of her cheek, tracing the area around her eye. He didn't need to say any more. The point was made, and everyone understood. Especially Light.

"He took her eyes…." choking down his disgust, the teen shuddered, rising from his seat. He didn't care if it was all part of the show, or that he swore to give it all a chance. This was too much. He wasn't staying here a moment longer!

His gesture was joined by dozens of others. Many of the crowd appeared impatient, like Mellylocks had said, but there were those that seemed frightened and, like him, wanted nothing more than to leave. They didn't go unnoticed though, as B let out one of his fearful laughs and pointed his staff at them, still holding the chains of his 'puppet' in his other hand. "Are you that desperate to get on with things? What a shame. Seems our dear Dresden doll wasn't lying. You all really are an impatient crowd. Some of the worst I've ever seen." He never lost his smile, but a degree of frostiness clung to it now. Light felt chilled to the bone when the ringmaster turned to face him, locking his body into place on the final step of the stairs. "Fine. If you must go, then feel free! But I insist that some of you remain behind and stay with us a little bit longer. We haven't even had our customary welcome dance!"

Dance? A murmur rippled through the crowd, and Light vocalized what they all were wondering. "What dance? Since when does a circus host a dance?"

B smiled and waited for their questions to die, clearly pleased. He held the girl's chains tighter, tossing his staff to the side. It fell to the floor, quickly forgotten, but seemed to be another strange cue that this hell of a circus had arranged. "This isn't an ordinary circus," he cooed, and Light finished the sentence, the words of Mellylocks floating through his head.

'If you really think that, then you're an idiot….'

"Did you really think it was?"

Music muffled Light's voice, and he jumped, startled, glancing around the tent and trying to see where it'd come from. There was no telling. The song seemed to flow in from everywhere at once, seeping through the bright red fabric and mingling with the air. Disturbing and slow, the chords thrummed with a beat that encouraged you to move. It stifled, pressed against his skin, and he rubbed his arms frantically to rid himself of the clammy sensation. Sadly it didn't work, and the feeling only grew worse as the ringmaster snapped his fingers, taking the girl into a firm hold. "Come! Join us in a dance! Then feel free to peruse our home to your heart's content. I promise, you won't be disappointed." He laughed and waltzed away, the sound of clinking chains lost in the whirlwind of music and laughter as a few couples joined the two performers on the stage, amused at the ringmaster's antics. They thought it all a game. Something fun to take part in, until they got bored anyway.

Light didn't share their opinion. He forced his body to move and hurried out of the stands, looking for an exit in a way that was practically panicked. All around him he could hear laughter and cries as the people began to dance, the ringmaster's form becoming lost in the crowds. So too was he swept up in the action, red lights flickering and threatening to go out completely, making everything far more eerie than he was comfortable with. "This is insane," he cried, pushing past a smiling couple and nearly getting thrown to the floor. Stumbling, he caught himself on a swatch of fabric that was grey, stained, and studded with flowers, the skirt splattered with blood and sleeves dragging across the floor, almost completely hiding the chains that weighed her every move.

"……" gulping, he swallowed his terror and looked the girl head on. She didn't smile or speak, but simply took his hands and drew them deep into the throng of people swaying to the music.