ATUHOR'S NOSE: Apologies for the long wait... again. More real-life kicked me in the gut. I am, however, proud to say this one chapter doubled my page count in the overall story. One last thing, do not jump on me about Aero's behavior, I assure you, it is not going in that direction.
Chapter 3
We’re All Mad Here
How many times have ve done zis?
The eight or so cathode ray television monitors cast dancing shadows from their flickering black and white displays. Fuzzy overhead images from all around the cruel and crazed park displayed through sporadic static on the rounded, rectangular screens. The pale, colorless light created thin but bold shadows from every minute imperfection in the room and revealed the dulled patches on the ornate wood where the polish had worn thin.
Aged and antiqued brass switches, knobs, and even some gold-plated decorative trim and accents, livened the furniture and obsolete devices. Anatomical diagrams of several species hung in fine hardwood frames at points through the room. One displayed the human head, skull, and brain. Another detailed the muscular, circulatory, and skeletal systems of a gorilla. The third diagram showcased a composite horror built from pieces of no less than thirty different animals, both internal and external.
In the center of the room, in a chipped wooden throne on a swivel fixture with padded velvet cushions, sat a thin and elegant man, rubbing his temple in exhausted frustration.
Tventy times? Thirty? Have ve reached ein hundert yet?
Yellowed and crooked teeth gritted through an exasperated sigh.
My life’s vork… turned into a game by a rotten brat!
Calculated rage and a deep, personal hate oozed through the command center.
“Sir! Sir!”
Nein… nein…
“Baron! Baron Tökkentäkker!”
“Nicht jetzt, Umlaut…”
“Sir!”
“I said not now!”
The blade-toothed jester’s skull, Umlaut, entered through a window, yellow and purple collar spinning like a propeller.
“Baron! Have you seen?” Umlaut excitedly asked.
“Ja… I haff zeen… Ze little monster is back in my circus…”
The jester’s bright red lips curled into an exaggerated and gouged smile.
“There’s a surpri-ise…” Umlaut sang.
With all the vim and vigor of an inebriated slug, the exhausted ringmaster turned to peer at the television array.
The sight nearly made his heart beat.
In addition to Jacob and Betty, CarnEvil had a number of new guests tonight. A small red bipedal bat with pre-existing injuries was already being approached by the couple. A nightmarish clown strongman took a seat in the food court and, by the hand over his face and slumped posture, was clearly dizzy or in some way disoriented. A number of tiny equines were also gathering their bearings, with one already being pursued by a number of horrors. Some strange curtained frame also crashed into the Museum of the Slightly Curious, knocking several of the displayed items to the floor.
Most intriguing...
Most of the new arrivals were still confused and hiding, but the gigantic clown with Herculean build drew attention first. His dark and malevolent features made him come across as a villain wherever he had originated. The stark differences from the tiny ponies lead the Baron to believe he was from a different world, but similarities in basic body structure suggested he was from the same world as the bat creature, though without confirmation, it was still only a guess.
In any situation, tonight had gotten interesting.
“Umlaut. I haff zome new guests to greet…”
* * * * * * *
The entire audience, almost half of Ponyville, had witnessed the disappearance of the biggest national heroes in a flash of light and sparks. Panic and fear ran thick. Nopony knew what had just happened or where any of those involved had gone.
Spike the dragon grew especially worried when none of his friends could be found. The young dragon ran everywhere, looking behind the stage, under the stage, in chests, and anywhere anyone may be hiding or trapped.
All efforts to no avail.
It helped that he was not the only one investigating, but it did nothing to ease his fear and nerves. The Mayor had called for local police who had already begun talking to witnesses and securing the site of the incident.
Panic blotted his mind. This was not a common sense situation with which Spike had experience, this was a full-fledged catastrophe and the young dragon had no worldly clue how to even start.
Who- Twilight- how- clown- help!
In the closest thing to clarity his racing mind would allow, a single good thought surfaced.
Princess!
Spike sprinted back to the Library as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.
He had a letter to write.
* * * * * * *
Jacob and Betty crept closer to the small heap with big ears. The thing looked like it walked on two legs and had human-like hands. Whatever it was, it was here, and the two adventurous youths had yet to raid the shooting gallery.
“What the hell is that?” Betty whispered.
“If it’s not dead, it will be.” Jacob quietly answered.
“I don’t think it’s a monster.” Betty said.
“Are you kidding? Look at it! It’s a creepy little rat!” Jacob said.
The thing lifted its head and stared at them, causing them to freeze in place. Several seconds of tension went by before the thing spoke.
“Can I help you?” it asked.
“You can talk?” Betty asked.
“Yes. I can hear, too.” It answered, wiggling its ears and cocking an eyebrow.
“You could hear us?” Betty asked, glaring at Jacob.
“Every word.” It said.
Betty stabbed Jacob with her eyes.
“What?” Jacob asked indignantly. Betty continued to glare daggers. “I wasn’t really gonna… unless he attacked, but… oh you know!”
“Humble little thing, isn’t he.” The bat thing said.
“I apologize, even if he won’t.” Betty said. “My name is Betty, and this is Jacob.”
“Pleasure to meet one of you, at least. I’m Aero.” Aero’s demeanor lightened. “So, uhhh… where are we?”
Betty began to answer until Jacob interrupted, breaking into a well-rehearsed spiel, complete with exaggerated body movements and theatric delivery.
“We’re in CarnEvil!” Jacob proclaimed excitedly. “A psychotic carnival of horrors, filled with the stuff of fucking nightmares! All run by the insidious and depraved Professor Ludwig von Tökkentäkker!”
Jacob’s short albeit energetic monologue was met with only raised eyebrows and confused silence.
“Does he do this every time?”
“More often than I’d like him to.”
“Hey! I’ve beaten this carnival so many times I lost count!” Jacob defended.
“Not too tough when you know everything before it happens.” Betty shot back.
Is she challenging me?
The thought that Tökkentäkker indeed had been doing the same thing with only minor variations was strange, but the results spoke for themselves: the Baron had died dozens of times, while Jacob hadn’t died once.
“Oh it is on! Let’s get to the Shooting Gallery!”
* * * * * * *
“Hands off me, you cur!”
Rarity galloped through damp dirt paths, weaving through and around grotesque displays and sideshows. The signs’ advertisements went unnoticed to the proper and refined Rarity as she fled more than a half-dozen twisted abominations.
The things were living jokes and sickening sights to behold. They seemed to have heads at both ends and four appendages serving the roles of both arm and leg. Rarity found their faces to be unsettling to say the least. Their wide eyes, narrow pupils, absent irises, and gap-toothed goofy grins and laughs all struck her as unnatural, like a joke about someone, rather than the person’s actual demeanor and appearance. Despite her reaction to the appalling, trollish visages of her assailants, the fact each brandished a wooden cudgel without discrimination as to what was smashed, forced Rarity to forget the physical characteristics in favor of panicked flight.
The white unicorn’s sky blue magic snared and threw any possible thing to hurl at the brutes. A garbage can knocked two down only for them to simply flip vertically and continue as if nothing had happened. The term “upside down” did not apply to something that had two tops and no bottom.
Straining to hold so much ammunition, she grabbed four separate benches, two more garbage cans, three signs, and a wooden door, and with all her might, heaved the mini arsenal at the creatures. All of them went down and seemed too dizzy to get back up immediately. One, however, lurched from the junk heap, swinging its bludgeon wildly.
Rarity, unused to such magical exertion, fought to tear a red curtain from the “Bearded Lady” show. As she flung the curtain, she uncovered the star of the show…
The Bearded Lady, reclined on her sofa, showing her bleached bones and thick brown hair and beard on the filthy skull, along with the greasiest, filthiest, ugliest blue muumuu Rarity had ever seen. Horrified by the sight, Rarity shrieked, stumbled, and missed with the curtain which fell to the dirt ground.
The thing swung its club straight down toward Rarity’s head.
Momentarily forgetting finesse, Rarity used her magic to grab the club and the arm that held it. The two struggled to overpower each other, forcing back and forth with simple brute strength.
Blackness crept into Rarity’s peripheral vision, her forehead and horn tingled, and her whole body felt the sensation of floating.
No… not here… help…
The thing reached forward with its free hand.
“Hands off!”
An orange and golden thing hit the monster with such force, the cracking of bone sounded loud in the night. Instantly, the creature dropped. The abrupt end to the struggle caused Rarity to stumble forward into the dirt where she could do little more than watch Applejack and Rainbow Dash brawl it out with the things that had begun recovering and renewing their attack.
Applejack jumped between two of the freaks, stomping on the lower hands of one with her front hooves and bounced backward to buck the second in the gut, or at least where Rarity guessed the gut was. The second horror groaned and toppled while the first… giggled…
The sound was without question a stupidly happy laugh with that guffaw from the back of the throat that foals usually ridiculed. The laugh, the deficient smile, and the morbid conjoined bodily structure all pointed to them being the result of engineering, possibly surgical in nature.
No! Don’t be silly! Nothing is that sick!
When Applejack let the first one go, it stumbled back and flipped again, readying its injured hands for the fight while the good hands took up walking. Rainbow Dash, who had been battering three of the wretches with flurries of hoof strikes, rocketed into the second face and sent it spinning end-over-end into one of the trash cans Rarity had previously thrown, where the monster stirred and flailed but did not get up.
Dash immediately went right back hammering down multiple attackers at once, raining down quick hits with her hooves like a hail storm. Blood dripped and splattered from the freaks as wounds opened and tore. Applejack ended several more fights with well-placed heavy blows, again eliciting cracking noises here and there. The nauseating sights and sounds urged Rarity to close her eyes, but she needed to watch her friends in case something happened and they needed her. The constant gag response made the chore difficult, however.
Her body had recovered from her overuse earlier, and she now stood, waiting for a chance to hit something with something else.
Somehow the fight ended in seconds with the two brawlers standing amid seven of the twisted nightmares. AJ and Rainbow Dash approached, both with sweat-dampened coats and heavy breath.
“Y’alraht, Rarity?” Applejack asked.
“I’m fine, yes. Thank you both.” Rarity replied, gratefully.
“Try getting into trouble more often! That was so awesome!” Rainbow chuckled.
“Naw, it cain’t be safe here. We gotta go.” AJ said, quickly picking a direction and going with it.
“Aww, can’t we wait for reinforcements?” Rainbow whined indignantly. A glare from both Applejack and Rarity made the pegasus follow, grumbling along.
Rarity stopped and looked back to the attackers.
“Rarity?”
The curiosity ate at her, disturbing though it was.
“You comin’?”
A lady never looks at such things!
“You kidding? She dragged me away, now she’s going back?”
This may be important, though…
Rarity galloped back, approaching one of the fallen that appeared to have lost consciousness. Trying not to look at either of the bloody faces or other injuries, she grabbed the thing’s leotard with her magic and ripped a one foot opening vertically at the middle. Looking in, she found her answer.
Rarity turned, heaved and vomited right there on the ground.
“Oh man! Jeez! That’s sick!”
“Rarity! The hay are you doin’?”
Closing her eyes and focusing on fighting back another round, Rarity hurried past her friends.
“Let’s go. Now.”
“What happened? What’d y’all see?”
“Later. Leave.”
* * * * * * *
Twilight carefully examined the booth before her, or at least as carefully as she could given her gnawing fear. Concentrating under pressure was difficult in any situation, she didn’t care what adventure stories said.
The Daring Do books make it seem so easy Well, everything was easy for Daring Do…
True, she had figured out the curtain thing during a surprise clown attack, but there was an anchor of security. They were in Ponyville and surrounded by her closest friends and many others she knew and liked, all of whom would come to her aid if need be. Here?
Here was terrifying and unknown. Here was scary and intimidating. Here did not like trespassers. Here did not like her.
Twilight’s ears always pointed away from her line of sight, trying to detect any sort of approaching danger. In unfamiliar and hostile territory, that threat could come from literally any conceivable angle, and that was the thought gnawing at Twilight as she tried to examine the Shooting Gallery.
The caricature depictions of skeletons seemed to be making fun of death, a thought that sickened Twilight. The smiling skulls of the dead children struck her in a primal way, causing her chest and lungs to tense as one does before sobbing.
In the front, a heavy tarp curtain hung over what must be an opening. The curtain itself had red and yellow lines emanating from the center, visually drawing attention to a large blue circle with white cursive reading “Fun for the Entire Family.” Across the curtain’s bottom lay a black bar with blocky white letters spelling “CLOSED.”
The building must have significance if it stood out this much. None of the other tents had this many colors, lights, or advertisement.
So what is a shooting gallery and why is it important?
Twilight knew full well where her answer lay, and took the first steps toward the curtain.
A crash behind her made her jump into the air and whirl around only to be knocked down by some tall figure rushing past her. Stumbling, Twilight put distance between her and the intruder before looking back.
They were nowhere to be seen, but the waving motion in the curtain told her they had gone into the shooting gallery.
The lights ignited and an old vinyl record of calliope music ground sluggishly to life. The curtain rose to reveal a bipedal figure of a species unknown to the unicorn, clad mostly in blue, standing on the counter at the mouth of the gallery, and holding a long and oddly-shaped tube.
The creature moved something on the tube, causing a loud set of compounded clicks.
“Step right up!” It said in dark sadistic glee before pointing the tube at Twilight.
Not knowing what the implement was did not matter to the young mare. The demeanor and actions of whoever or whatever it was told her two things: it was a weapon, and she was the target.
Acting on impulse, Twilight flashed a bright purple, teleporting off to her right somewhere. The weapon erupted with a loud boom and caused an explosion in the dirt behind where she had been standing.
Projectile! Dodge!
The figure readjusted its aim. Twilight teleported again, this time to the opposite end of the clearing, and again narrowly escaped the boom. The attacker jumped from the counter, turned to face the purple unicorn, and charged. The bloodlust in its eyes set her nerves ablaze.
Abandoning rational thought, she ran. Weaving left and right, she somehow dodged three more of the invisible projectiles before tripping over a loose rope she should have seen, and falling into a tangled, writhing mass of panic.
Somehow shuffling behind some barrels, Twilight’s mind raced a mile a minute, trying in some vain hope to escape.
Another of the plural clicking sounds bit the night air.
“Gameover, bitch!”
Tears burned and blurred Twilight’s eyes.
“Stop!”
Steps drew closer.
“She’s with me!”
Another set of footsteps came running.
A grunting noise, followed by faint ratting of metal and a brief skirmish could be heard.
“I said, she’s with me. Cool it.”
Silence from the other side of the barrels followed by angry whispers, followed by more silence.
Twilight’s shuddering breath rattled from her trembling lips and tear-stained, dirt-smudged face. She sat, huddled behind laughable cover and waited for… anything. Specifics were not foremost in her thoughts at the moment.
“Hey, you okay?”
The voice was gentle and familiar. Twilight recognized it as Aero.
“He didn’t hit you, did he?”
“No, I don’t think…”
A pause.
“I’m going to come around the barrel. Is that alright with you?”
“Yes.”
The red bat calmly and quietly crawled around the side of the barrels and took a semi-cross-legged seat before Twilight. The two said nothing for a moment.
“It’s okay. He’s getting chewed out by his girl for this. I wish I had popcorn for the fireworks.” He joked. Twilight chuckled.
“Thanks for stopping him.” She said. “Your name’s Aero, right?”
“How’d you know?” He asked.
“I heard the clown say it.” She explained. “My name is Twilight Sparkle.”
“Pretty name.” He said. “So, Ms. Sparkle, what do you do for a living?”
“I run the library in Ponyville.” She explained.
“A librarian. Do you have a favorite genre?” He asked.
“I like non-fiction and historical documentaries.” She started. “I also love a good adventure story. Mysteries can be good, too. Fantasy and science fiction are fun, but so is horror.”
“So, your favorite genre is Yes?”
Twilight laughed louder, the tension and fear loosening their grip on her lungs.
“I guess you could say that!”
“I imagine a librarian doesn’t see too much excitement or danger.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised.” Twilight practically bragged. “My friends and I saved the world three times, and we have memorials to prove it.”
“I guess this must be different, huh?”
“Well… yeah…” She said. “The other things I understood, but this? I have no idea what any of this is. I don’t know the rules. I don’t know. I’m not used to that.”
“You’ve never seen a gun before.”
“Is that what attacked me?”
“No, but he was using one. The loud boom is startling if you’re not used to it.”
“I forgot I could teleport.” She laughed, half ashamed of her folly and half mocking herself because of it. “A spell I mastered years ago and I forgot I could do it.”
“Panic does bad things to your mind. I’m a circus acrobat. Part of the job entails calming my own nerves and helping others deal with theirs. If any of us see someone else panicking, we have to step in and help.” He explained.
“Thanks.”
“You good to go?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I swear, I’ll gut him if he takes another shot.”
Twilight stood and disentangled herself with her magic and Aero’s help. Aero, still suffering pain in his own leg, leaned on her shoulder for support as the two stepped into the open.
Twilight saw two of the things now, but they looked much nicer now that they weren’t trying to kill her.
“Twilight, this is Jacob and Betty. Guys, this is Twilight Sparkle.” Aero introduced.
Betty stepped forward to greet the unicorn, but stopped to glare when Jacob started laughing.
“Twilight Sparkle? Sounds like a body glitter, or no, a wood finish!” he mocked.
Betty knocked him in the head.
“You almost killed her, the least you could do is apologize!” She scolded.
“I’m really getting tired of him.” Aero scowled. “Say the word, and I’ll break his kneecaps.”
“Maybe later.” Betty answered.
“Just letting you know, that’s an open invitation.” Aero said to Twilight, making her snicker.
“I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but I’ve never seen anything like you guys before.” Twilight said, tilting her head quizzically.
“We’re what you can call humans.” Betty replied. “Your horn, I’m guessing you’re a unicorn?”
“You have unicorns here?” Twilight said with excited surprise.
“Only in really old stories.” Betty said. “But they don’t have such pretty colors.”
“Oh thank you!” Twilight smiled. “Do you also have pegasi and earth ponies?”
“The Pegasus is also just in stories here, but what are earth ponies?” Betty asked.
“Earth ponies can’t fly and don’t have magic, but they’re usually strong and inventive.” Twilight explained. “If we can find my friends, you’ll meet some.
“That sounds like a good idea.” Betty suggested with an approving nod from Aero. “I guess you could say humans are like earth ponies.”
“I know I am!” Jacob butted in. The apparently vulgar comment warranted another whapping from Betty.
“I think I saw them land around the park. We should go find them.” Betty said through gritted teeth to Jacob.
“Okay, let’s go…” Jacob grumbled.
“So where are we, exactly?” Twilight asked.
Jacob took a deep breath only for Betty to step behind and wrench him into a choke hold before he could speak.
“No! Bad!” She scolded again. “This time we say exactly what’s going on. No song, no dance.”
Relinquishing her hold on Jacob, Betty continued to stare him down.
“Fine.” He said indignantly. “This place is called CarnEvil. It’s ringmaster is a psycho named Professor Ludwig von Tökkentäkker. He’s a real piece of work.”
“He’s got a sick love for messing around with living things.” Betty began. “He’ll use whatever’s at hand. You might not be ready for what he’s got.”
“Has he ever attacked anyone outside?” Twilight asked, thoroughly appalled by what she was hearing.
“No, he can’t leave the carnival grounds.” Betty said. “It’s part of the curse.”
“There are no such thi…” Twilight cut herself off, realizing her folly.
“Maybe not where you’re from.” Jacob said. “Story goes, back in 1898 CarnEvil was a traveling carnival, much smaller than it is now. It set up here in the woods and scared the crap out of the townsfolk. One night, a fire started. Nobody from town came to help. Nobody came at all. They all just left the carnies to burn.”
Twilight gasped in rigid horror, bringing a hoof to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes and a lump forming in her throat. She’d heard some bad things done in Equestria before, but… this was sadistic, heartless, and cruel. That wasn’t even the people of CarnEvil, it was the people of the local town; ordinary people who turned a blind eye to suffering and death.
A small town… just like Ponyville…
“CarnEvil was still a circus of fear, so I can’t really blame them. They buried the whole thing right where it burned, bodies, wreckage, everything.” Jacob said. “But if the conditions are right, you can call CarnEvil back!” more of that dark glee glinted in Jacob’s eyes. Noticing the look of nervous confusion, Jacob continued.
“When the moon is full and trees are bare, walk through the cemetery if you dare. Where skeletons rot and corpses fester, locate the tomb with the skull of a jester. Feed him the token, all shiny and new, it is then that CarnEvil will return for you.” He recited, loving the whole thing.
“You brought it back…” Twilight observed, fear creeping in again. “Why would you do that?”
For the first time since meeting, Jacob looked into Twilight’s eyes, and his smile stumbled.
“Uhhm. Well… excitement, I guess.” Jacob floundered.
Twilight began to back away nervously, muscles tensing for a fight.
“Hey, now, come on!” Jacob said. “It’s a carnival, right? Their business is entertainment! They love doing it and I love being here! I’m the only outsider who comes to visit them! They’re lonely, and I’m helping!”
Twilight stopped. Her tears did not.
“How do we get out?” She asked, grappling with a strangling urge to cry.
“I’ll uh.” Jacob stammered. “I’ll tell everyone when we’re all together. How many friends came with you?”
“Six, maybe seven others.” Twilight answered.
“First, I think we’ll need to defend ourselves.” Betty interrupted, motioning toward the shooting gallery.
* * * * * * *
Ektor hunched over the counter at the stand of a fried food purveyor, his dizziness and aches having dissipated since his arrival. His resting, immobile posture belied his sharpened and predatory awareness of the fourteen lighter targets that had begun observing him some distance away.
They were smart only in the sense of maintaining their distance and each did a commendable job remaining behind cover. Were any of the machines putting out more noise Ektor would have only detected the nearest four who were rather foolishly behind wooden signs listing prices of various food items. Three more hid behind the counter of a hot dog stand, two others observed from the roof of a popcorn and cotton candy stand further away, and two snickered loudly to each other behind a large decorative false pizza.
Ektor sat and waited for any of them to make a move.
Much to his surprise, and disappointment, they did not.
Their constant shuffling and sidling was long past the point of irritation, causing thoughts of blood and gore to begin in Ektor’s mind. Though Ektor abruptly calmed at the same time the others had begun to back away…
When another set of footsteps started toward him.
These steps were different from the sniveling cowards that chattered behind cover. These were confident footfalls in even, measured strides. This person sought no cover or advantageous position. They simply walked straight forward. Whoever approached knew why they were here.
“About time someone had the steel to confront me.” Ektor greeted as the steps drew near enough and stopped, Ektor himself still not turning. “You’re in charge here, aren’t you?”
“Indeed.” The civilized voice answered. “Vat gave me avay?”
“You act like you belong here. The rats scurried before you.” Ektor explained.
The voice laughed, hearty and amused.
“I see!” The person replied. “Mein unterlings can be a bit spineless! Velcome to CarnEvil, by ze vay.”
“CarnEvil…” Ektor smiled, grimly amused. “I like that name… It has panache.”
“Ach! A fellow performer!” The odd one said. “You are not ze first circus act here… nor ver you ze last.”
Ektor’s fist slammed, breaking the counter and launching him to a standing position. He finally turned to his host.
“Who else is here?” Ektor growled.
“A little bat-like zing, vis an A on his garb.” The host said. “I see you haff a history.”
“Put lightly.” Ektor said.
“He’s already vandalizing my park. If you could help me, I can promise you ze pleasure of ending him if you like.” The ringmaster offered.
“Absolutely.” Ektor answered, rage boiling up.
“But, I must ask.” The ringmaster inquired. “You did not come here ze normal vay. How did you get here?”
“The bat stole something of mine.” Ektor said, anger still strong, but no longer the rage it had been. “A curtain frame.”
The ringmaster took a second to answer, longer than was necessary.
“Und… You chased him here?”
“Not on purpose. The Curtain brought us. There’s no way he could’ve made it do a damn thing, especially not take it here. Willingly, anyway.”
“I haff found nuzzing at ze moment.” The ringmaster said. He snapped his fingers and a grotesque, horrific jester skull with hat, collar, and blades for its teeth flashed into being with an explosions of purple and yellow, smoke, sparks, and confetti. “Umlaut! A direct order to all my attractions!”
“Speak away, Baron” said the jester, bobbing and floating.
“Be on ze lookout for a frame vis curtain attached. By a freak accident, zis slightly curious object has fallen into ze park, along vis zome univited guests. Ze curtain is of top priority, however. Zere is no guarantee zis museum qvality device has not broken upon impact. If found, bring immediately to ze fourth ring in ze Big Top.”
“Aye-aye, Baron!” the skull giggled and vanished in another puff of shiny smoke and light.
* * * * * * *
“You may follow me if you’d like to zee vat ve can use. I’m sure I haff many trinkets for you to fix your bat problem. In exchange, I vould like your help dealing vis a chronic vandal of my own.”
The baron offered his hand to the uninvited but not unwelcome guest. The massive clown cautiously extended his own hand, accepting the offer. The two shook on the deal.
“Deal. With a place called CarnEvil, I think we’ll get along fine.” Ektor said with a stiff grin. “I am Edgar Ektor. Curator of the Museum of Horrors.”
“I am Professor Ludwig von Tökkentäkker. Ringmaster of CarnEvil. I believe ve bos haff vork to do?”
Tökkentäkker lead the way, Ektor following shortly behind. The greasy, green-skinned food merchants began springing up, offering only the unhealthiest taste treats to their master’s guest. Ektor, took a bag of popcorn, a corn dog, and an extra large soda.
Mentally, Tökkentäkker condemned Ektor for important and numerous oversights on his part. Namely, word choice. The term ‘freak accident’ was unimportant to finding the device, and the phrase ‘slightly curious’ was the mother of all understatements for a dimension-traveling curtain. Additionally, what did it matter if the thing was museum quality?
Not much of a showman, is he? Not much of a thinker, either.
Had Ektor been on his game, he would have heard what Umlaut heard: Find a frame with a curtain. It is in the Museum of the Slightly Curious. Seize it immediately and safely.
Ektor deserved scorn especially for the most critical and obvious oversight.
Three-ring circuses do not have a fourth ring.
* * * * * * *
The sun shone brightly on the white and yellow palatial towers of Canterlot. Guard ponies in their golden armor patrolled the corridors and exterior of the castle, as their monarch rested in her chambers, perusing the latest letters from several foreign kingdoms and lands. The mark of the talon sealed letters from the Griffin leadership, while the flame crest denoted dragon alphas.
The tall, slim, white alicorn moved her ethereal, flowing pastel mane to her back. The golden glow of her magic levitated a parchment sheet, ink well, and quill to her position where she proceeded to write the next step to closer relations to the three territories.
A wisp of smoke entered through her window, hovered before her, and solidified into a scroll, bearing a crooked red ribbon, fastened with a golden horseshoe seal.
Seeing the telltale signs of a letter from her protégé, the elegant Princess Celestia opened the seal and unfurled the letter.
The writing was clearly that of Twilight’s assistant, the dragon Spike. However, his usual penmanship was neat and sure. The lines of the letter were rushed and messy. There was no name either, but it wasn’t necessary when Celestia read its contents.
Something happened.
Twilights gone.
help