The Circus

There was a circus that spread beyond the horizon. Thousands of stands and performers and spectators. Contortionists that twisted their bodies into unholy shapes, loud popping and cracking heard with each unnatural turn. Contortionists should be able to twist their bodies safely, these ones seemed to have no care for their bones. Fire breathers with burnt clothes and faces scorched to the their blackened skulls expelled plumes of bright red flames. Knife jugglers with long blades protruding from their heads, and crimson blood pouring from open wounds, were surrounded by faceless observers. 

In the middle of it all was a tent. A massive big-top, of traditional red and white stripes. It loomed above everything, a citadel of cloth and music, casting a shadow over all around it. I walked through the fields of disturbing spectacles, casting wary glances at the bloodied, bruised and burnt entertainers. Music permeated the air, emanating from an unknown source. It was the classic, almost cliché tones of amusement, but as if played on a broken tape. The volume undulated, notes jumbling themselves. But it was nothing compared to the laughter and screams of agony which filled the air in equal measure.

I was drawn towards the centre, into the big top. As I passed between its folds and into the dark, dank innards of the demented dream world the noise died abruptly. I glanced behind me, the world outside continued as normal (whatever normal meant here), but no sound came. I continued into the tent, passing between two seating stands. I stood just before the entry into the centre ring, which was shrouded in inky darkness. The stands however, I could see perfectly well, and each seat in the stadium sized tent was filled with a sleeping person. Man, woman, child, each one with eyes closed and bodies limp. Nothing but the barely visible rise and fall of their chests told me they were still alive.

My eye was drawn across the seats, where something moved. As much as I tried to focus its body remained blurry and undefined. The figure walked on all fours, or sixes, or eights, its sickly coloured body covered in eyes which blinked in unison. The corner of my eye was caught from the other side of the tent, where the beast also moved. Flickering between the sleeping audience, examining each in turn. I looked from left to right as the beast traveled at impossible speeds over great distances.

Boom. A spotlight appeared on the stage, and in it stood a human figure, dressed in a red ring-master's uniform, a cane in hand and a hat held down over his eyes. "Hello, ladies and gentleman!" he announced, his voice booming though I saw no microphone, but that is little obstacle in a dream. "Thank you all for joining us this evening and we hope you will enjoy the show." At the last word he held his head up, and his eyes were visible. They were but human eyes, yet unlike human eyes, they did not remain stationary. They swam about his face like fish, switching place and changing position.

"For our first act we will need a volunteer from the audience! You, good sir, I see you volunteer." To my relief he was not pointing at me, but rather to one of the many sleeping men in the crowd, who rose still sleeping to his feet and wandered down to the stage, a spotlight following him the whole way, as well as the gaze of the beast. He stood lazily next to the ring-master, who looked at the man with his maddening eyes. "Hello there, and what would your name be?" The man merely swayed slightly on the spot. "Aha! Pleased to meet you. If you'd please just stand here." He indicated the spot where he was standing as he moved out of the way and the sleep-walker mindlessly did as instructed.

"Ladies and gentleman, what you see here tonight is no trick," he announced as he receded into the blackness, leaving the man alone. Seconds ticked away slowly as the man continued to sway. Then a gnarled claw reached out from the dark. Eyes, teeth, legs, tail. It came from multiple sides, sliding in and out of the shadows. Then it struck. Flickering out from the nowhere to grab the man's head in its hands. His eyes snapped open and he began to scream as the the beast opened its mouth and began to literally suck the life from him, a dark light pouring from the man and into the creature. When it was finished feeding it dropped the man to the floor and flickered away once again.

I wanted to wake up, I had to wake up, but the circus wouldn't let me. I tried to turn away, but just as I did I was grabbed by the ring-master. "I see we have another volunteer! We don't usually do two in one night, but unforeseen circumstances mean for you we'll make an exception. Aren't you lucky?" He dragged me onto the stage in a vice-like grip, too powerful to escape. I was tossed into the central spotlight and the ring-master disappeared again. I immediately began to run back to an exit, but the beast blocked my path, jumping from corner to corner of my eye, forcing me from every attempt at freedom. I was trapped. It advanced on me, rising on its hind-legs, its blurring form gazing at me with malevolent intent, each eye burrowing into my mind. 

BANG! A gunshot rang out, striking the beast which scrambled away in its disjointed movement. Lights came up, and I saw running towards me with a gun in hand was a boy, merely a teenager. "Hey!" he exclaimed, stopping as he reached me, "You're dreaming!" My confusion at such a statement -dreams do not usually say you are dreaming in such apparent ways- was interrupted as the creature collected itself and lurched towards us. "Time to wake up!" he said and he punched me in the face.

I guess it worked, because next thing I knew I was awake, terrified and thoroughly confused.