The circus tent appeared before me like some grotesque specter, its bright, garish colors at odds with the surrounding darkness. The air smelled of smoke and sweet perfume—sickeningly sweet, like honey on a razor blade. I hated how it made my pulse quicken. I hated how much I knew this place would haunt me.
And there she was. Lilith. She stood in front of the largest tent, her silhouette like a dark flame against the backdrop of the flickering lights. She didn’t need to turn around to know I was here. She never did. Lilith could always feel me coming, just like I could feel her, no matter how much I tried to pretend otherwise.
She didn’t acknowledge me immediately, but I could sense her watching me, her gaze like a knife in my back, sharp, unyielding. She was a part of my past I couldn’t shake, a part I tried to forget, but she always found a way to pull me back. And this time, I couldn’t let that happen.
“You’ve come,” she said softly, her voice a breath of dark smoke curling around me like a snake. “I was starting to wonder when you’d show up, Ash.”
I didn’t reply at first. I just stood there, taking in the sight of her, that pale, perfect face illuminated by the circus lights. Her eyes glittered, too bright, too knowing. I could see the amusement in them, but there was something else beneath it—something that made my blood turn cold.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said, taking a step closer, the sound of her boots against the dirt almost drowned by the music from inside the tent. “But I knew you couldn’t stay away forever.”
Her words hit me harder than they should have. I clenchedmy fists, nails biting into my palms. The last thing I needed right now was Lilith’s games. But that was the problem with her—she didn’t play fair. She never had.
“I’m not here for you,” I said, my voice low, a warning, but I knew she wouldn’t listen. Lilith never listened.
She tilted her head, the faintest smile tugging at her lips, but it wasn’t a smile. Not really. “Oh, but you are, Ash. You always are.”
I didn’t want to hear her words, didn’t want to get lost in whatever twisted thing she was trying to make of this. I had one purpose tonight, one thing on my mind: Dove.
But Lilith always knew how to peel away my armor, layer by layer, until I was raw and exposed.
“I need you to stay away, Lilith.”
“I thought you’d say that.” A smug smile appears on her face. “But I have no interest in your little pet project.”
“You forget I know you. This obsession needs to end.” I scream back at her.
She stalks towards me, mocking me. Her eyes trail across my face, but that smug smile doesn’t leave. “You see, that’s where you are wrong. My obsession with you died a long time ago.”
“Then why are you here?” She doesn’t answer me, so I grab her arm with force. “Why are you here?”
“The asylum.” She smirks.
“What is at that god damn asylum that fascinates you so much.”
Then it hits me—Bentley James—Lilith; it all made sense.
“Stay away from that bloody asylum.” I grit.
Still holding onto Lilith’s arm, a murmur ripples through the darkened woods, a subtle shift in the air that makes every hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I feel them before I see them—the circus psychopaths, her loyal followers,blending into the shadows, their silent, twisted devotion radiating like poison in the surrounding air.
One by one, they emerge, stepping into the faint light cast by the flickering bulbs from the circus tent. Their faces are painted in garish, unsettling designs, the thick makeup distorting their expressions into leering masks. Some wear smiles stretched too wide, their teeth bared in unsettling grins, others hold expressions of eerie calm, eyes too dark, too empty, like hollow pits staring into the abyss. The colors on their faces—vibrant reds, stark whites, and deep, inky blacks—morph into something monstrous in the half-light, turning their faces into ghastly parodies of human features.
One man in a top hat stares with a gaze that’s too intense, the whites of his eyes practically glowing under the rim. He holds a cane in his hand, tapping it against his thigh with a rhythm that seems almost mocking, each tap resonating in the pit of my stomach. Next to him stands a woman with ragged blonde hair and a tattered corset, holding a dagger loosely in her hand, spinning it around her fingers with practiced ease. She watches me with a look that’s half amusement, half hunger, her lips twitching upward as though she’s waiting for the moment I’ll turn my back.
Behind them, a hulking figure lingers in the shadows, his massive form barely restrained by a tight leather harness crisscrossing his chest. His hands are wrapped in heavy metal rings, each finger sporting a deadly-looking spike that glints in the faint light. He watches me with a strange, sickly fascination, his head tilted to the side as though studying an insect.
Lilith doesn’t pull away from my grip; instead, she laughs, the sound low and poisonous, filling the silence between us. Her followers close in, forming a ring around us, their movements slow, calculated, like predators who know the kill is already theirs. There’s a silence in their ranks, an unspokenunderstanding that every breath, every heartbeat, is in sync with her command.
Each one of them looks at me as if they’ve already carved up my flesh in their minds, already decided how they’d tear me apart if she gave the word.
This wasn’t the circus I remembered.
This was something else, something dark and menacing.
Lilith tilts her head back, savoring the twisted power she has over them, a puppet master reveling in her strings. She doesn’t try to pull away from my grasp; in fact, she leans into it, her lips stretching into a smile that barely hides the malice underneath. Her gaze flickers to me, eyes gleaming with dark amusement, as if daring me to try to drag her away from her kingdom of devils.
“Feeling outnumbered, Ash?” she whispers, her voice silky and dripping with venom. “These aren’t just circus freaks—they’re mine. Every single one would bleed for me. Kill for me. Die for me, if I asked.”
