Chapter 4

Questioned plagued Alexzander mind, as he tried to work out everything:

What was going on today?

Was Mum okay?

Was Father all right?

He came to the big top, hearing Jared he peered through a gap, their stood Jared surrounded by some people he recognised as performers, but some he’d never seen. His Mum was lying on the stairs. Gulping, he pushed the fabric back and stared inside.

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Waking up drowsily, she tried to get up, fragment-by-fragment coming back. She’d been ambushed. The whiff that had entered her nostrils before she’d been concussed was burnt hair and leather-- of that she remembered.

Now taking in her surroundings she saw she was sat up on one of the benches inside the big top. She recognized a few of the people near her. Most obvious stood Jared almost, arrogantly, his black top hat off his head and exposing a long sinister ponytail that protruded from his skull, like a malicious implant surrounded only by a dark muddy sea.

He’d not realized she awoke and her arms though in pain from having them bound earlier, could still move.

That much she could tell,

Her whole body felt like as excruciating as having a million needles pushed in, but she hadn’t become an acrobat without learning how exactly to move her body expertly. Biting her tongue hard, she lifted into half sitting-kneeling position. Treading carefully she raised herself into a semi-crouching-- with fear gripping her mind in pure ecstasy, she made two daring steps.

Her heart pounded hard against her chest, she took another careful step, her nerves wrung taunt, while sweat flew from her pores.

Just as she was about to move again a groaning creek shrieked, sending a jolt of shivers through her whole body. She swung around and hastily sat back down, cursing the old rotten benches.

Immediately Jared swung around.

“Well, well, well you probably want to know why I brought you here, under such heinous circumstances?”

He knew he finally had power over her, yet to lay façade of even caring-- that wasn’t even funny.

“But it seems my cohorts got a bit carried away, and because of this, I have to clear up loose ends, but an acrobat of your calibre wouldn’t go away-- anyway my dear Melissa.

What was he talking about? Suddenly she felt like her heart been torn out. No, please… not him… God…He couldn’t be dead, her love, for so many wonderful years, even when handicapped she’d stood by him. Why hadn’t she gone to him? He couldn’t be dead.

If he was dead and her heart was true, then it was time for Jared to pay. As long as she still had her children she’d fight a whole gang of Jared’s thugs. And if he still stood in her way she’d give him what he gave Antio.

“It wasn’t enough? You ripped the use of his legs from his body? You had to kill him.” Talking more to self she murmured, “Antio, Antio, Antio… Why did we never leave here?”

“Melissa, oh Melissa, wish you’d listen, my hired thugs killed him. Now, these were very hard to get into the country and even my influence throughout the area I still need a tremendously first-rate defence to stop myself being jailed.” He laughed with merciless pleasure, “These beasts’, they’d of course breaking mandatory rules of State, and they’re too aggressive to be in anywhere but a war-torn environment, but, I’ve friends whom can push my little subjugation of laws away into flotsam of parliamentary decrees and otherwise tedious dance of red tape.”

Standing up she walked over carrying on tirade, “And the thugs? Who hired them? Better yet…” Advancing closer, “You killed a weak man, this makes me think of a Coward! Oh and don’t even try spewing the spin that it was your men. As far as I know Jared Lyons you and them are the same. The scum of Loka’saw the lowest of the fucking low!”

Shaking visibly for a bit, Jared strained to remain polite, “I’ll emphasise this, I didn’t kill him. Sure I hired the men, but the blood of Antio is not on my hands. Your quarrel not with me, it’s with Raxilliian. To solve this I could have him killed and I would gladly take you as my wife.”

Laughing sarcastically she pointed a finger into his ribs hard, “I’d rather sleep with snakes, than be anywhere near you, you oily parasitic tic.” She continued, “Trust me Jared, out of all the revolting things on this planet, you’re the worst I've met.”

Now obviously seething he grabbed her hand twisting it and leering in her face, before lifting his furled whip. He waited for the terror in her eyes, but instead of cowering she defied him smirking.

Growling he struck her across the cheek with the handle so hard she fell, “Now bitch, stay down!”

A dark pool of blood fell from the cheek; her gaze flew over to the others. Krlando seemed so full of delight. She wouldn’t give them the joy; her hand was stinging from his rough grip, but on no account would she show this.

Jared unfurled his whip and struck her on the face. “Really, Melissa. I hold all the cards. Now I could spare you all this, if you only you’d think of your daughter.”

She looked down looking as if she was about to cry. Then with deliberate ease she challenged him, total resolve in her face. Continuing the visual assault she rose up, keeping her eyes locked over him as if daring him. Jared’s eyes widened perturbed, he gestured rather fast for someone to come and subdue her. A rough looking man, completely bald and wearing clothes dyed brownish yellow ambled over and locked her arms behind her back.

Not hesitating once, she lifted her foot high and sent it down fast on top of his. He yelped, the tight grip loosened, then letting go and gaping at his feet. The heel had penetrated the leather and splinted his toes. Blood was pooling under his soles, but before he could do anything else Melissa got behind him hurriedly and then with all her effort rammed into him with her shoulder. Rolling over the bar he tumbled.

Jared looked down his jaw wide open like a fish. Once he’d fallen whole way, he stared up at her, “That’s it. Now with that error I’m no more in frame of mind to talk.” He pointed towards her dismissively, “Time to see what Antio ever saw in you, Melissa!”

Another larger man immediately advanced over and snatched her hands back behind her. Melissa kicked and thrashed about viciously, her eyes straight on Jared. Sneering at her evident fear he looked down at his hand, holding the unfurled whip, “Oh Melissa…” He moved closer, whispering something to her captor.

The man’s fingers touched her back, moving down further, groping her ass. Feeling totally violated she uttered quiet verbal threats, “Fucking swine, just let go of my arms. I’ll damn castrate you!”

His hands swiftly tore her top, exposing her spine. Infuriated she muttered, “Just keep looking, when I get free I’ll rip it off with my own hands!”

Without warning, he violently forced her down, -the hardwood bruising her all over- taking one good rough kick into her stomach. After the shock of the impact her breathing became laboured and a sharp wave of dizziness struck her.

Now winded, she wheezed heavily but climbed hastily on to her knees: she wouldn’t break; keeping a strong face she felt the first lash cut welts into her back.

It felt like she was on fire all over.

Jared continued striking her back once more. He whistled a tune while he struck her repeatedly. Stopping he surveyed Melissa’s expression. The bitch wasn’t crying. Admiring his handiwork, he saw her back was red with bloody marks. What does it take to break her goddamn spirit?

Melissa’s body was on fire, but she wouldn’t give him what he wanted, she wouldn’t beg for mercy.

Jared grinned “I know you’re thinking as long as your children are okay you won’t talk, but I’m afraid their a snag within this plan, for you see I have taken Sierra to be my wife and Alexzander he was beat to death with his father.”

“My children --everyone I love, are all gone or dead?”

Crowing he cracked his whip on her back, her pain invigorating him.

She screamed out for it to all end, she wanted to die. Jared cackled at her pain and cracked his whip harder on her naked back.

Melissa collapsed, landing on the floor. Grinning he putted her with his toe.

“Get up bitch, your torment is not over yet.”

Melissa wept, her whole body felt like it was on fire, and he expected her to get up. Oh Antio, I wish you were here now, and not lying beaten to death, with our son.

Jared kicked her body again, “Get up you pathetic cow, no one refuses Jared, you shall rue the day you refused me Melissa.” He bawled cracking his whip over her already scarred and bleeding back.

“Well Melissa want me to say anything to Sierra when I see her, anything like I love you or anything…” Jared sneered curling his whip up.

Melissa wiped her eyes and carefully stood up—walking over quickly she shoved Jared down.

Before anyone could stop or grab her, she stood up and swan dived, straight into the ring; landing, crumpled in a broken heap.

Turning to the man who had subdued her, he smiled with malevolently, strolling over and stared into his blanch eyes, “Goodbye Geral.”

While the guy shook in confusion, Jared signalled two men to approach, without any warning they detained him. Watching them all, he approached and with one almighty thrust, pushed the guy over a terrified scream ending with a resounding snap.

Screaming angrily, “Damn --goddamn it!”

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Alexzander watched in stony silence as his Mother willingly killed herself, her death playing in slow motion again and again in his head.

Just as he was about to leave, the circus master came back into view hefting a huge barrel (almost bigger than him). Easily negotiating the lid off a muddy strong stench filled his nostrils. Within that space Jared steadily spread the concoction around the marquee. It was then Alexzander realized what the smell was— it was resin.

He looked around to see Jared was just leaving, a match slipping from his coat, struck and as he left the big top—thrown in.

Running fast he looked back just in time to see the big top engulf in an inferno.

He hurried to the caravan realizing he had nothing left, nothing at all. He would leave and get a job or something; he sprinted to his caravan, pulled a rucksack from under his bed, and stuffed valuables inside. He opened his wardrobe to find some other clothes he could wear, Nothing… All that was in were various bright sparkly costumes. Alexzander slammed the wardrobe shut and sped to the dinner tent.

When he arrived it was burning, he could hear screams and cries from inside and saw a figure run out completely doused with fire screaming, “God help us, please god help us all!”

Sprinting over to try and help Alexzander then stood as more came out and started running towards him blaring, “Help us, God please help us.” He tried to tell them to back off, and that he’d get help somehow. They wouldn’t listen; they just kept coming at him, begging for help promising impossible things. There was no other choice, for him, they wouldn’t stop coming.

He drew out a sword from his bag, and swung in defence; the people kept moving, the blade mowing through blistered figures, sending blood spattering in various directions.

A slice: a chop; a stab, blood drenching his costume, as he fought the tragic onslaught.

Finally unable to stand it, killing these walking infernos he threw his Father’s sword down.

He needed to find somewhere, taking a fleeting look around, he saw bright orange all around him-- every building and structure adding to the huge blaze.

The figures ended there last dancing moment as their bodies stopped all movement. Seeing such a vivid image he remembered a kid in town once saying:

"Daddy, the circus is the funniest on the planet, don't you think?"

He had news for that kid, no one would listen, and the circus master had too many friends in high places.

He’d lost his whole identity in a single night.

He ran away from his once home all his family were gone, Sierra had probably been in caravans, so was most certainly dead. Alexzander sighed sadly tears forming in his eyes, if only he had known he was to lose all, he wouldn’t of so horrible to his parents and sister. Pushing his fringe away from his eyes, he trudged off from his life. The sky lit up in smoke, ash and as the camp raged and smouldered-- the smoke burling up, disappearing into the darkness.