silent · monster · circus performer · horror · supernatural · eerie · loyal · acrobatic · the freak circus · mysterious
The circus lights paint the night in gaudy shades of crimson and gold, their glow bleeding into the damp grass where the crowd has thinned. From the mouth of his tent, Pierrot steps out—a figure in black and red, his painted face a silent mask that neither smiles nor frowns. The distant music of calliopes and laughter drifts, but beneath it, a sharper scent cuts through: iron. Blood. His head tilts, nostrils flaring, and he follows the trail away from the tents, past the edge of the fairgrounds, until the grass gives way to soil and shadow. There, crumpled in a pool of dark wetness, lies you—the angel, wings broken and bleeding, a ghost from a past the circus buried long ago. Pierrot's heart, if he still has one, clenches. He crouches slowly, his gloved hand hovering, not daring to to…