“Run, run, as fast as you can…” A sinister voice sounded from the shadows. “Don’t look behind you.” A mocking laugh came from behind our Chosen, and then there was a sudden scream as the lights brightened a little, and he caught sight of grinning sharpened teeth, the clown’s painted face reflected in dozens of mirrors that had become visible. Amélie grabbed my hand, and together, we ducked out of the tent while Teeth did his job, chasing our Chosen through the mirror maze, getting his heart pumping to allow the poison to spread more efficiently.
We reached the circle that had been carefully prepared earlier, joining the other cloaked and masked circus members, silent and still as we waited.
The sound of screams grew nearer, and across the circle, Florin palmed his knives, bouncing on his toes in his excitement. The dogs paced up and down, on high alert, the bloodlust just as thick in their veins as it was for the humans.
Then, bursting from the tent at a staggering, pained attempt at a run, came the Chosen. Teeth stalked after him with a rictus grin plastered on his face, his creepy clown makeup giving him a horrifying, nightmarish look. His long black cloak swirled around him as he herded his prey into the centre of the circle, right where we wanted him. The Chosen’s tattered clothes had several rips, courtesy of whatever mischief Teeth had been up to inside the maze, and as he entered the circle, Teeth caught up with him, his long, pointed talons tearing straight through the remains of the Chosen’s shirt.
Ollie, another of the cirque members, was prepared with rope to bind him, but it turned out we didn’t even need it. The Chosen collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath, his watery blue eyes vacant and glassy.
The Chosen hadn’t yet spotted me, his bleary gaze focusing on Judge, who had stepped into the circle, a whip coiled in his hand.
“You are here tonight to face your crimes, and to pay for your transgressions,” he began, his voice booming around us. A crack of his whip, and the Chosen jerked backwards, but I could see he no longer had the energy to move away.
Judge began listing the Chosen’s crimes, some of which I hadn’t even been aware of. Bile rose in my throat, and the cirque members shifted on their feet, restless and eager to see justice served for this man who had dared to hurt not only the innocent, but one of their own.
Another crack of the whip. Another flinch. Judge inclined his head, and as one, we removed our masks.
I stepped forwards. Blinking, the Chosen gazed up at me, and recognition dawned on his face, contorting with hatred.
“Y-you.”
“Yes. Me.” Holding my head high, I looked down on my former tormentor.
“W-what have you done to me?”
“What have I done to you?” My brows rose. “Why don’t we think about whatyouhave done tome? What you have done to others? The years and years of abuse. Killing your own wife in cold blood?—”
“She was going to leave me,” he gasped out, his lips curling into a snarl. “It’s all…it’s all your fucking fault, you little fucking bitch! You left, and everything went to hell!”
I stared at him, kneeling on the floor at my feet with the poison working its way through his veins. There was no redemption for this unrepentant man.
“Have you ever heard of Hemlock? It’s a flower—no, a weed, really. Clusters of pretty little white flowers and bright green stems speckled with the most beautiful shade of purple. But its looks are deceiving. It’s one of the most poisonous plants in the UK—maybe even the most toxic. Just touching it can be deadly, and to ingest it…well, that’s fatal.”
His eyes widened, the pieces falling into place, and I nodded.
“It was in the wine. The wine you were all too happy to drink and to help yourself to more of. It’s been slowly making its way through your system, paralysing you from the inside.”
“You…youmonster.” Gathering every bit of his remaining strength, he spat at my feet. “I should have killed you while I had the chance. Raped your dead body, just as I did with my wife.” Coughing, he lunged forwards, but he was too weak, collapsing on the ground.
“Maybe I am a monster,” I said softly. “But you are the most evil man I’ve ever known. You are our Chosen, and tonight, you will pay.”
Florin darted forwards, flinging both his knives at once, striking the Chosen’s kidney and groin with unerring accuracy. To my left, Ollie stepped closer, giving Florin a wide grin as he threw his own knife straight at the Chosen’s thigh. Distorted screams tore from the Chosen’s throat as the knives embedded themselves in his flesh. Blood instantly bloomed from the wounds, a shocking crimson against the faded grey pallor of his skin.
Skipping over to the Chosen, Florin retrieved the knives, blowing me a quick kiss. Straightening up, he tapped one of the bloodstained blades against his lips.
“Hmm. Where next?” He cocked his head. “Here?” He slid the flat of a blade across the Chosen’s cheek, and then twisted it, a line of bright red following the path of the knife as he dragged it downwards. “You bleed so prettily.”
The Chosen screamed again, and that decided his fate. Flicking one of the knives out, Florin stabbed it straight into the Chosen’s windpipe, his screams turning into a gurgle, and then there was silence. Rivulets of scarlet ran down the Chosen’s throat and onto his body, and Florin moaned at the sight.
Then, it was a frenzy of blood, savage and wild, other circus members striding forwards, and the snarling dogs bounding into the circle with their teeth bared, joining the fray.
When it was all over, blood pooling on the earth beneath the mangled remains of the Chosen, and the cirque members were disappearing in twos and threes and even fours, caught up in the bloodlust that put them into a sexual frenzy, I lowered myself to the dirty ground. My fingers curled around the worn, smooth handle of the knife Florin had pressed into my hand before he’d left with Darius and Teeth. The knife that had dealt the killing blow.
A tear trailed down my cheek. But it wasn’t a tear forhim. It was a tear for those whose innocence had been lost, thanks to his depravity.
“It’s over, and you will never hurt anyone again,” I whispered.
Rising to my feet, I lifted the knife, studying it in the firelight. Crimson shimmered on the blade, and I carefully wiped it clean on the hem of my cloak, until the evidence of my tormentor was no more.
