Something I wrote a while ago, based on an idea that me and a group of people yarned together. Much of it was changed to fit the piece, and it was hard to shorten it from it's full, much longer, version. But I'm happy for any critiques I recieve, though this is far from my best work. For this section, only a PG-13 rating is needed, for the most part. The rest of the story is very much R however. While it seems lighthearted, murder and mental illness/state is a common theme that arises. If desired, I'll post a later part of the story in place of this.
Ew, looking back on it; it's awful. So please ignore flow problems and such. That's not an issue right now.
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A vibrant flash of red came about when a tall figure appeared upon the stage, confident in every step he took. The corners of his thin lips curled upwards into a gentle smile; one that would haunt any woman in her dreams. Dark strands of hair fell gently onto his pale skin in contrast, to frame his oval face. With piercing gray eyes, at only a first glance, one would normally assume that the young man was blind. Such was not so, for the ring leader saw very well indeed. He saw into the souls that he looked at- and he was able to stand down any other man- no matter how burly.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” The man spoke aloud into the microphone held within his right grasp, “Welcome to Cirque du Abberations. Please do make yourselves comfortable, grab a drink and a snack, or even take the little ones for an elephant ride right outside the tent. The show will be beginning momentarily, so sit tight for only a little longer, and you won‘t be disappointed.” Dipping his head to the side ever so slightly, flashing one more charming smile at the crowd, the ring leader briskly turned on his heel. Handing the microphone over to a slim and attractive woman who accepted it gracefully, the young man exited the noisy and colorful tent at his own pace. He didn’t have too much time left, until the fruits of his labor would be reaping in. Letting a more natural smirk overpower that once beautiful grin, his mind wandered briefly to his performers.
Damien Macabre was getting impatient.
Whisking his top hat off in one swift motion, Damien grabbed a plump and juicy red apple off one of the tables located in the performers’ tent. Taking a large bite out of it, the crunch rang through his ears annoyingly. But the ring leader didn’t care in the least. Right now he was preoccupied with bigger things. Taking a quick glance at the women and men bustling about, doing last minute preparations for their acts, no doubt. Whenever their acts were. “Damn it…” The ring leader hissed venomously, chomping down onto his luscious fruit once more. A sliver of juice ran down his chin, tickling his pale skin lightly. Rolling over the liquid with his tongue, Damien intertwined the fingers from his free hand into silky locks, running them through. Exhaling lowly, a more irritated sort of expression came upon the man. Strolling across the grass, clear gray orb’s franticly searched the grounds he passed, slowly examining every nook and cranny he saw. It wasn’t as if he could just kneel down or go hunting, even in front of his employees. That would not suit Damien Macabre at all. Not in the least.
Cirque du Abberations had been in the Macabre family for generations, every male eventually taking the role of ring leader when they came of age. The whole circus was like a family, traveling together and caring for each other, as they did their best out on stage. The previous Mr. Macabre had inherited the circus from his own father, and later married the last Mrs. Macabre, a beautiful trapeze walker. Unfortunately, only a mere few years ago, did a fire break out in their home, whilst the circus was taking a small break. Their children, Damien and Katherine Macabre, were able to survive, at their young ages. However… the pleasant couple wasn’t as fortunate, much to the sadness of others. This left little Damien and Katherine under the care of their grandfather, grandmother having passed away already due to illness.
But now only time was left- if he could find his bloody cane, that was.
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Cars were still being parked outside the tent, as young, sixteen year old Alexandra Gold marched herself confidently into the tent, cursing under her breath at having overslept. Long, shining wheat curls bounced a little with each step the girl took. She’d been given a letter in the mail, from a mysterious man, who for some reason wanted her to come see the circus. Alexandra, known as Lexie or else, loved the circus, actually. As a little girl she’d seen it once or twice, and dreamed of joining. How glorious and exciting it sounded. Not counting all those hot circus guys… The thought echoed through her mind, sending a sly, cat-like grin to her plush lips. Resisting the urge to lick her bottom lip as a juicy affect, the remembrance of her gloss upon them stopped her dead in her tracks of the act.
Scanning the seats scattered around the tent’s open grounds, Lexie’s eyes quickly zoned in on an empty row up in first, which was near deserted if it wasn’t for one or two people. Like a hunting prowler, she pounced, nabbing the first seat she could reach. And the one with the best view of center stage. From the giggling girls that were gossiping outside over snacks before the circus began, the ring leader was apparently very fine. Yummy.
Crossing her legs, making sure that nothing important showed from under her miniskirt, Lexie also liked to give a little peak for those perverts. Leave them wanting more, that was what she typically followed, more than half the time. Smirking to herself when she caught sight of a young teenage boy, thirteen at the most, staring at her; pride overflowed within the girl. Alexandra Gold took great care of her body- it was an important weapon. And item.
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Backstage once more, Micheala Jones calmly ran her finger along the smooth scales of her snake. One of them, at least. The Snake Lady, she would be referred to by some. Quite rude, if one was judging by normal person standards. Here in Cirque du Abberations, normal was so foreign, all of them would have to take a class on it to comprehend the meaning. A small chuckle escaping her at the thought, the woman stood, smoothing out any winkles in her form-fitting green dress, which was, luckily for the males, very seductively cut. It all added onto her appeal as one with the reptiles though, no?
“Al…” She whispered at a pile of boxes and cages, amongst other messes, “Come out, baby. We’ll be performing tonight, after that I’ll let you rest with Noah and all the others.” A promise to her family was a promise to her family. Yes, these creatures were indeed so precious to intelligent Micheala, that she felt they were connected by that bond. However, Damien would have off with her head if he found she wasn’t using the cages, and just letting her hoards of reptiles run loose. They could behave themselves though, Micheala trusted the beasts. She would always trust them over anyone. Even Damien, no matter how… attractive, he was. To say the least.
Hearing dirt crunch under footsteps, the eighteen year old woman curiously looked over her shoulder lightly, keeping the same serene and disciplined facial appearance. It wasn’t like anyone could see what she was really looking like, under all that make-up as it was. Even so… Micheala wasn’t a girly girl, but she had to admit dressing up like this was definitely one of the best perks of being in the circus. Stuff like this… you just couldn’t wear anywhere else.
Shades of envy green and light gold slid in scales from the left side of her face, starting at the hairline, and traveling down her cheek to the cheekbone, where the makeup faded out. It didn’t help that her cheekbones weren’t particularly good to begin with; requiring even more cosmetics to bring them out, in a way that would create an impact. The area around her eyes felt particularly heavy with the appliances, because of the smokey affect that had been applied around her orbs weightily. As they traveled the outline of her eye-socket, near the inside tips, that gray color became a pure, snow white. Micheala’s eyes had to be one of her favorite articles of the cosmetic makeover. Everything else was much more plain. Lips were painted a murky, muddy color of pink, and night black hair was held up carefully in a gold clip upon the top of her head. It wasn’t wise to ignore her locks though, when the woman was in costume. There resided a only mere two of her precious snakes, slithering about. VerdeDrei and VerdeSieben were their names. Having them with her gave the girl a certain comfort among comforts. Even though Micheala didn’t like to play favorites, she loved these two, but couldn’t help but love Al and Noah much more. They had been with her for almost forever- like a dear old friend. Wasn’t that what they were to her already?
Eyeing up the ring leader in his bright red coat when he entered the tent, a surge of sorts flooded up through her body, filling her appeared cold-blooded veins with refreshing heat.
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Catching a glimpse of Micheala out the corner of his steel eyes, Damien cocked his head once more, feigning a controlled and secure atmosphere. He couldn’t go around having his performers think him nervous- that wouldn’t do at all. For only nineteen years old, he had to be strong and mature, to carry on the title and make this circus profitable. Despite his cold insides, the young man truly did care for his performers. He’d known half of them for quite a long while in fact. They were simply family.
“I’m not sure of your order… but I’d be happy to perform whenever you wish.” The snake lady offered seductively, her voice soft and eyes gleaming. Any woman in her right mind would do the same; Damien was a perfect piece of art.
Too bad he was so destroyed and rigid on the inside.
Gliding over to another pile of random junk, Micheala picked up two more snakes that she came across of hers. Noah and Sloan, a Boa Constrictor and a Sinaloan Milksnake. No, these creatures weren’t just her family. They were her children.
“Ah,” Damien began, lending a polite and amused smile her way, “Thank you Micheala. I’ll keep that in mind then..” Hoisting himself onto a nearby table, the apple was placed in his lap, positioned so it would not leave any trace on his beloved jacket. Fluttering his eyelids closed, dark lashes left shadows upon the man’s pale cheeks. The cries from the audience were getting louder, to the point they could even be heard back in the performers’ room. Damn. A frown tugged at the corners of his lips, and it took a great deal of strength to keep his irritable nature from showing right now. First he lost his clipboard and cane, and now the crowd was getting impatient. Just bloody wonderful. Raising a hand to his temple, Damien rubbed lightly, attempting to extort the stress he felt into some kind of vapor. In only an instant though, he hopped off the table, almost in recognition of something, whilst he wandered over to one of the strange piles, pushing aside boxes and items ruthlessly.
