"He comes calling every once in a while."   Shawn heard the sad Clown say as he fell onto the ground near the front tire of the car.

His face briefly touched the earth, smelling of hay that was sharp, musty, almost metallic. Loose strands of straw matted against his clothing as he struggled to his feet.

"He comes calling." The Clown said, peering down at Shawn from the driver's side window of the small car, elbow crooked and jutting outside the window, a said expression on her face.

She had stopped honking the horn. Shawn gathered his bearings and it appeared that Bobby had not gone through the Book.

Shawn brushed straw from his clothes and hair as he hauled himself to his feet. He was relieved to see Bobby hadn't followed him in - that relief allowed him, at least for the time being, to suppress the dull terror that he felt around this clown. He closed his eyes for a moment as he tried to force the image of Mr. Sellick's death out of his head.

He looked at the clown. "Am I taking a ride, or...?"

"Yes. You should ride in the passenger side. It makes me sad to see you this way. Are you afraid?" The Clown asked, opening up the door, the smell of rotten fruit stinging Shawn's nose.

"Sometimes, you feel sad without any reason, and you can’t help it. And you can’t deal with it. We all want someone to notice, but as soon as they do, we wish they never did. Let your tears come from your eyes. Let them water your soul. That's what I do."

Shawn hopped into the passenger seat, doing up his seatbelt out of habit. "I am afraid. But I know exactly why I'm feeling sad." He was at the despairing point in his fear where nothing seemed like it would matter, so why not be honest?

"Yes, I know you know. But I don't know. I'll tell you why I am sad if you tell me why you are?"

The seat-belt clicked audible as the Clown finished this sentence. Before Shawn could say anything, the Clown continued.

"I'm sad because this time I'm in the body of a little girl named Abbey. If only sorrow could build a staircase, or tears could show me how to be happy. I would climb my way out, and bring her back again. So she could live without me haunting her. But I can't. She's dead. I would do anything to bring her back. Because if I got her back, others would get back the friend and daughter they once knew."

"But it's too late for that now. I am his servant. And I am damned just like she is dead. Forever."

"Dead people receive more flowers than the living ones."

"That's easy to say. But I watched you kill Mr. Sellick for no reason!" Shawn was surprised to hear self-pity from a murderous clown, but for some reason it made him feel angry. Not enough to dull the fear, but enough to notice.

"I'm sad because you killed Mr. Sellick and all I did was watch. I'm sad because I care about Bobby, but I can't help him because you killed his parents. And I'm sad because you made me into a killer while I was still alive!"

Part of Shawn expected the Clown to lash out with hidden cleaver. But it didn't happen. Instead, the Clown shed a few bloody tears that ran down the pale skin on her face and dripped crimson red onto her hands.

"I am sorry for what I am. No matter how you love a person, there will come a time that you will hurt that person whether you like it or not. Not all things are in our control. Sometimes we do not have a choice because of what we are."

"For every person I must slaughter, I shed a tear. At least you have the memory of Mr. Sellick. Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose."

The clown's continued sorrowfulness was really starting to confuse Shawn. Was it self-justification, insanity, or something else? "Why don't you have a choice?"

"Because I am Gaggles the Sad Clown. I belong to the Evil Circus forever. I die. And I return. I am damned. Forever. I will forever be a killer. I must forever serve the head of the Clown Troop. Mr. Cherrywinks and whatever body he is riding. Because the proprietor demands souls. And Mr. Cherrywinks must provide them." Gaggles explained.

"Why not refuse? Why not run away?" Shawn knew there was every chance this was a lie, every chance this was some kind of trick, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. And this was the first he'd heard of a proprietor.

"I sold my soul to Mr. Cherrywinks so I could keep living forever.  That's the sad thing about it. It becomes a debt that can never be paid off. He owns my soul, so I can't leave. Ever. It might be the saddest thing, except the look on everyon's face right before I slice them open. Part of me wishes I could feel something else. That I could be something other than a sad Clown. But every circus needs a sad clown."

"Wait, you used to be human?" Though Shawn was experienced in hiding his true feelings, the disbelief he felt shone through in his voice. "Were all of you human?"

"We come and we go. Just like a real circus.

But unlike the real Circus, we only come around when some one puts on Mr. Cherrywinks' clown nose.  Then, when someone puts that on, either on purpose or by accident, he starts to try to bring the Evil Circus back. It usually starts that way."

"Then he brings us back. We're always there you see. We just need to be brought back. But to bring us back, he has to cut off noses of little children and put clown noses on them. Then, that's when we come back."

"He has to bring the Evil Circus back because he owns a debt as well. A much worse debt than we do. He must pay the proprietor of the Circus. Everything is a series of debts you see. It's really sad."

Shawn had any number of questions, ones he wasn't sure he wanted the answer to. But like Bobby would say, you had to gather intel when you found yourself in enemy territory. "Who's the proprietor?"

Gaggles went on to explain that she didn't know who the proprietor was. No one knew but Mr. Cherrywinks. The proprietor lived somewhere deep in the ground. After every show, when the Evil Circus was open, souls would be harvested from the clientele. Mr. Cherrywinks had to lower a certain amount of soul harvest into the well for each area the Circus stopped at. This would go on for several years, sometimes as many as ten. Then, when whoever Mr. Cherrywinks was occupying died, it would stop.

"You understand how sad that is?" Gaggles asked.

"Why children? Why clown noses? This is...all of this was for a debt!?!"

"You know what the saddest thing about being hurt is? A lot of people think that if someone gets hurt, it makes them think about others. That you should be able to sympathize with other people and see someone's pain from their perspective. But that's not true. When you're hurt, or when someone hurts you, you only ending up thinking about your own pain."

"You end up thinking about yourself." Gaggles concluded.

"It's not a debt for Mr. Cherrywinks really. It's a quota that he has to deliver. A quota of souls. In the end, he is just a clown nose really, that someone puts on. His whole spirit is in the nose. I heard that somehow his nose made its way into an antique shop this time. Some poor fool put it on by accident to try it out. That's how things got started here this time."

"I don't know why everything is focused and takes the form of the Evil Circus. I suppose it happened with Mr. Cherrywinks before he was damned for eternity. I sold my soul in 1913 and we learn to never ask questions. Just take children and leave them dead but not too long. He has to get there in time to cut the nose off. If you do it too early, the soul dies and it can't be captured. Then one of us has to collect all the bodies and dump the bones in the 'Cave of Dispair.' I named it that because it's so sad."

"That's the cave that..." Shawn felt a little sick - there wereso many of those bones in that cave. Then, he went pale as a horrible thought occurred to him. "Wait - when I agreed to help...do I still have my soul?"

"It would be really sad if you were demanded for all eternity like I am. Serving Mr. Cherrywinks so that he can serve the proprietor. The contract, if signed, is something that can never be broken. If you have signed a contract with the Circus, then you must fulfill it. There is no other way around it.  But if you didn't do that, and you just made an agreement, that might be....might be really sad. You'd still have your soul, but there's no way of knowing when, or if Mr. Cherrywinks will call your debt 'paid.' l know many who were never let go until the day they died. " Gaggles concluded.

"Oh no, oh no no no..." Shawn buried his face in his hands as he realised what he'd done. He thought he'd bought his safety, but what if there was no end, no way out. Had he really betrayed all those other kids, just to trap himself as well?

"I know it's sad. He doesn't all of the time. But you're right to feel the way you do. Truly, there is no hope. Everything is lost. Everything is hopeless. Everything is depressing and sad. There isn't any hope for you while you're alive. For me it's even worse. There isn't any hope for me forever. It's a terrible thing, really. Being trapped somewhere with no hope of doing anything. No hope of ever being free. No hope of being able to do good in a world that probably needs it. Truly, all hope for you and I is lost." Gaggles concluded.

Shawn was barely even paying attention to the clown at this point, so mired he was in his own self pity. All he had left was hoping for mercy from Mr. Cherrywinks, which seemed an utterly absurd scenario.

Eventually, however, Shawn broke his silence. He had a look of disgust on his face, but with his actor's gift it'd be difficult to tell that the disgust was directed inward for even pursuing this line of questioning. "You...you said Mr. Cherrywinks made you a sad clown, that you're always sad. Did he choose that for you? Was it in the contract?"

As the Clown spoke Shawn still felt that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't helped by the bumps and bounces the small car made as it rounded its way around the edge of what looked like the Evil Circus. It drew closer and closer to a tent, ragged white and red striped fabric moving in the stagnant air.

"No. Not at all. I became the Sad Clown. At first, I was called Gaggles, because I was so happy with the idea that I would never, ever die. Even though I lost it all, there was still something new and exciting about being around forever. About belonging."

"Now I know better. I know that everything begins to die as soon at is born. And so when I was born anew, it was only a matter of time before even in my new life, the possibilities slowly narrowed, the future turned dark along with the sky, and the work....the work that my hands had to do...that became darker and darker work also."

"How many of us feel that life is like being on stage? There is that element of loneliness you get from traveling and being on the road. Being up there when everyone is watching you. That's what changed me from Gaggles to being Gaggles the Sad Clown. I slowly realized that forever is a really long time."

There was a pause for a moment.

"Its going to be really sad if you don't do what he wants." Gaggles offered. It came across as unsolicited advice. Not a threat. But a resigned sense of things as they were. Like she was speaking from experience.

Shawn withdrew once more, waiting quietly for their destination. It seemed there truly might be no way out.

The car stopped in front of a small tent structure.

There were poles that seemed fastened into grommets made of rope, covered with canvas. Red material streaked outward and there was a large sign. It read:

"The House of The Master Maker" In crooked, wooden blocks above the entrance.



Gaggles started to honk the horn in front of the tent.

She turned to Shawn.

"It's such a shame. You aren't the only one he is calling for. We have to pick up a carnie who was captured and made a deal the other day. Everyday it gets worse. Every day someone else is taken. There's no hope."

And then, with less patience.

"He's going to be mad if Ralph doesn't get out here soon. It will be so sad to see him punish Ralph. "

Shawn tried to keep his expression from showing any sign of recognition or foreknowledge, just the dull fear and self-loathing he'd been expressing during the trip. "What if he's gotten away? I know it sometimes happens."

The horn kept honking and honking. As it did, the mood in the car seemed to change. Gaggles face became a mask of anguish, crimson tears began to streak down her face. She pressed the horn harder and harder as if willing Ralph to get out the Master Maker's tent. But as Shawn knew, it wasn't going to change a thing.

Finally, Gaggles pulled away and drove on, saying something about how sad the whole situation was. For Shawn, it would seem, that the Evil Circus didn't know everything.

They made their way down a winding path uphill towards a tent that  seemed distant. It overlooked the circus structure from a distance.



Gaggles parked the car at the top of the hill outside and the two exited. Shawn immediately noticed rats scurrying out of the tent, disturbed by his approach like cockroaches when a light is turned on.

Gaggles pushed the flap of the tent away and Shawn could see a Clown. He was hunched over a desk using an old time telephone.





"We're missin' the Fortune Teller, The Master Maker, and the Lead Carnie. We can't open nuthin' without 'em. Circus ain't ready. We can't open yet with this short staff. You gotta understand. Pleaaaase!" The Clown pined on the telephone in a gruff, but surprisingly nervous voice.

Shawn didn't say anything to interrupt, and strained to hear the kind of voice coming from the other end of the telephone.

As Shawn stepped into the room, the smell hit him like a slap to the face. It was a combination of peanuts and sour smelling meat. Like a hot dog that had spoiled but was still sitting around in its own juices.



Mr. Cherrywinks, for that's who Shawn knew it was, slowly turned around in his chair. He had lank, straggly hair that stuck out in a frizzled red strands and chaotic, maniacal eyes that burned with madness. His teeth were like a line of broken tombstones.

He held the phone away from  his ear for a second and Shawn could hear something...


OOC: Shawn Rolls Wits + Composure

"Ahh! *cough* *cough*." Mr. Cherrywinks said, recognizing Shawn. Immediately, the temperature in the room seemed to get colder. Gooseflesh broke out across Shawn's arms.

"There you are. Good job Gaggles. Where's the other kid? *cough* *cough*. Where's Ralph?"

"It's so sad." Gaggles said, drops of red blood, pouring down her face.

"He wasn't there. He's gone."

The Clown roared in anger. "ARRRGHHH!" He slammed his hand down on the desk, and there was a loud crack, splinters flying off in jagged spikes and spinning into the air against the canvass sides of the tent.

Shawn stood there and watched as the Mr. Cherrywink's breathing became intense. His face turned a red complexion and smoke began to waft out of his nose in hot wisps.

Then, he turned on his large shoes and stared at Shawn.

"OK. Kid." he said in a measured tone.

"Ralph is out. Sometimes when you got a job ta' do, it's better to get it done right away. *cough* cough*"


"Ya' did good last time kid. Ya' did good. But now I'm callin' ya' in. Callin' in a favor. You'd do me a favor, wouldn't yah kid?"

OOC: 20:36, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 1 success using 4d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 7,4,9,2.  Wits + Composure.


Shawn took a few involuntary steps back as Mr. Cherrywinks slammed his desk. But he tried to stay calm, and actually managed to find it somehow. Existential fear and self-loathing was one thing, but he'd worked with screaming, mercurial personalities, and he'd handled it. Albeit not with such high stakes. You just held on, crumpled all the fear and anger into a little ball in your stomach, and you didn't break down until no one could see you. "I can be helpful..."

Shawn heard the muffled, static voice from the phone. It sounded deep and indecipherable. Something that sound like it's trying to imitate human voice, but is subtly wrong. Example, its words echo when no one else's does, it speaks like a collection of animal noises coined together etc.



Mr. Cherrywinks smile widened and Shawn saw that the clown's tongue was like a slimy worm. It started to run along the front row jagged teeth, caressing them slowly.

Then suddenly, he bobbled the phone and returned it to his ear in what looked to Shawn like...

OOC: Shawn Rolls Wits + Empathy

OOC: 22:03, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 1 success using 3d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 2,7,9. Wits + Empathy.

...fear. That's what Shawn saw flicker in Mr. Cherrywink's crazed eyes as he returned the headpiece to his ear. Just for a moment, but it was there. As if Cherrywinks was afraid of whoever or whatever was talking to him on the phone.



"But we can't open up just yet. It ain't ready." his rasping voice pleaded into the phone. "Right. OK. Yes." And he hung up the phone.

Then turning to Shawn, he said.

"Ah, Kid, you're here. That's good of *cough* *cough* *cough* *sic* *urggh* *cough*...!!" he broke into a long winded coughing fit that sounded like a cancer patient on a deathbed.

"Now.." he said clearing his throat. "Let's talk about what you need to do. I need you to help out. See there's a few things I need from you. I need a few kids. To get the show started."

He opened a small black book.

"We've got...

-Roger. He's on the list.

-Dawn. She's running around here in the Circus and needs to be reigned in. You already met her. You already gave her ta' me.

-Then there's Jeremy. He's a youngah' kid. Also Easy pickens'.

So, which one you want ta' help me out with?'"

So. This was the price of his soul - hunting down other kids. Sure, he'd done this before at the cabin, but this time what Mr. Cherrywinks was asking for was far more explicit. But despite his shame, despite the nightmares and the self-loathing, Shawn wanted to live. He had to live. All he could do was make the best of it. "I'm ten years old, I don't know how to kidnap people."

"Oh, I ain't expectin' you to kidnap p...*cough* *cough*....people."

"I like you kid. You got a good way of lookin' about things. You don't sugar coat nuthin'. You also call things like they are. For that' I'm gonna give you treat."

He reached behind his back and pulled out a large lollipop. It was one of those oversized, swirling lollipops, colors of orange and blue. But the colors were faded and the lollipop was covered with lint.

"No magic there. Just a good ol' fashion treat." He offered, continuing to speak as he waited for Shawn to accept the lint-covered, decayed-looking sweet.

"Kid. You're an actor. I don't expect you to work with no brute force. You gotta act. Act like you're on the silver screen or like its part of a show under the big top. It's all part of the show kid." Mr. Cherrywinks explained. And as he did, his eyes widened in a horrifying gaze. Shawn could see the features of the Clown's face much more clearer now. There where what appeared to be lice crawling in and around Cherrywinks' red, matted hair. His jagged teeth were yellowed and each one had a slight barb on the end.

"So, it's like this." Mr. Cherrywinks continued "If you pick Roger to bring me, then you go and act like you're one of the kids in Minnesota. You know, just hangin' around and playing in the snow. Hell, kid, I might even show up to play too. But really, you'll be out there acting. Acting like you're one of them. You use the Book to bring Roger back here after ya' convince him that you're a friend."

"It's all part of the show under the Big Top kid. If you choose ...*cough* *cough*.*cough* *cough*.*cough* *cough*...." he broke off, the fit of coughing somewhat uncontrollable. Then, as Cherrywinks gagged, a large cockroach fell to the floor from somewhere in his hair around his left ear. It chittered along the worn carpet and out of sight. "Choose...Dawn...eeurmm." He cleared his throat. "Choose Dawn. Then you stay here in the Circus until you find her. You act like you're here to help. You convince her like you're a friend. You find that brat and you bring her here on top of the hill. To this tent." He emphasized with one ragged, Clown-gloved hand.

"If you choose Jeremy. Then kid, you gotta use the Fortune Teller's Babble Book. You gotta change into an adult. Like a costume on a movie set. Jeremy ain't gonna trust no kid. He's too young for that. He ain't got no friends. The kids only 2 and a half, ya see? No. You gotta come in an take 'em. You gotta pretend that you're a friend of the family or somethin'. Convince him to go with you. Use the Book to bring him back here."

"You see kid? It ain't about bein' ten years old. It's about acting. You like acting, don't ya kid?"

Shawn took the lollipop and immediately stuck it in his mouth. It looked disgusting, and hopefully it tasted disgusting - he deserved nothing better.

But no matter how awful it was, how awful the things he did, he had a responsibility to stay alive and protect his family. "If I do help bring Roger here...I want you to wipe away Bobby's debt. He doesn't owe you anything, he's free to live his life without any of...this." Shawn tried to sound forthright and confident, as if he had any sort of position to bargain right now.

Shawn's mouth registered a sweet, stale taste, and then the prickly sensation of fuzzy lint that was stuck to the lollipop and now touching the roof of his mouth.

The Clown, meanwhile, considered this proposition. He raised one ragged, gloved hand to his face and tugged his lower lip in concentration.




"mmmmmm..*cough*..*cough*" he sounded, as if he was thinking the idea over and perhaps even coming up with a counter offer.


"You're a tough one kid. Tougher than you look. I like that. It takes a lot of gumption with so much on the line to make a counter like that."

The room seemed to grow silent. Shawn noticed in the silence that the room itself had already gotten much colder. The silence became drawn out, and then the Clown said.

"hmmmmm...."

"You gotta understand kid. I'm runnin' a business here. You think this place...." He gestured with his hands in the air in an arc, the rotten clothes on his body shuffling slightly.

"...runs itself?" He deliberated. "I tell ya' what. You bring Roger here and we'll wipe Bobby's debt clean. But if he comes here makin' deals like you." he waved a finger in the air. "That ain't something I can do nuthin' about. So you go tell Bobby that his debt is clean. And that if he wants out he's got to get out now. No comin' back askin' for his parents or none of that baby-stuff. The Circus is openin' soon and when it does, whose-ever is in, is in. No ifs or buts about it. That's how things go when the Big top starts to run."

Shawn, for an instant, froze. But then he was back in performer mode, with the fear on his face being seasoned with puzzlement. "But Bobby told me his parents were dead?" It was technically true, and he had to find out more.

"They are dead kid. Dead as a door nail. And that's pretty dead." The Cherrywink's Clown answered.

"There ain't nothin' that can bring them back. Nuthin' at all. Gaggles took care of that, didn't ya' Gaggles?"

"Yes. It was very, very sad."

"But sometimes, we can arrange..." he paused for emphasis.

"For wishes to be granted and made. Each time a show is performed, we have the Carnies and the other Clowns get all that nice soul residue off the ground. It comes in clumps of rocks after each show. Clowns gotta be paid you know. Carnies too. Even the Fortune Teller when we bring her back. And the Master Maker. This place runs on souls kid. Soul rocks."

"After the plunder is divided, most workers at the Evil Circus, or Cherrywinks Carnival as we called twenty years ago, go off and spend their hard earned souls the only way they know how."

"They smoke it."

"And when they smoke it, they *cough*..*cough*..*cough*...*cough*...get to make a wish. Of course, that wish has to be approved by the proprietor. The wish lasts as long as the high does kid. And there's nuthin' like the high you get from smokin' souls."

"Oh, I see." Whatever answer Shawn had been expecting, it wasn't that. Either way, he wouldn't be mentioning this to Bobby - he had enough to deal with. He gave Mr. Cherrywinks what he hoped was a respectful nod. "Thanks for being so patient with me - I'm ready to go."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:51, Thu 22 Dec 2016.

The Clown said nothing in return, but his smile said it all. It was a grimace which seemed to suggest that the smoking souls might be something in Shawn's future. Shawn couldn't quite say how this thought was communicated, just as he couldn't explain the coldness in the tent.

"Now get outta' here and get me my kid. I've got noses to cut off." Cherrywinks said, dismissing Shawn with a errant gesture of ragged flourish, the frills of his clown sleeves frayed and grayed with dirt.

"I'll take you back to the living." Gaggles said, putting a cold hand on Shawn's shoulder. "So that you can bring the living death." The last words came out small and choked, like she was going to cry her red tears again.

Shawn tried not to flinch away from her touch. He simply nodded and went with her. Bobby. He was doing this for Bobby.

The two walked outside of the tent, and Shawn noticed immediately that it was raining. Not where he was standing at the top of the hill, but rather, at the bottom where the Circus was. From this vantage point, he could see the full view of the Circus. It looked empty, barren and decayed. The rides were rusted, gaming booths empty.

OOC: Shawn Rolls Wits + Composure

OOC: 22:54, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 2 successes using 4d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 8,6,9,2. Wits + Composure.

"I'm sure you know by now where this is going." Gaggle said. She started to talk about something depressing but Shawn could hardly hear here.

Instead, he saw Henri standing at the bottom of the hill. Henri. One of the kids that he had written the names of in the Book. The boy quickly ducked out of sight next to a gaming booth.

Shawn just stood there, paralysed by a surge of conflicting emotions. He'd betrayed Henri to his death (or so he thought), and here he was, months later, still here. On one hand, that meant the Circus wasn't all powerful, if Henri was still here after so long. On the other, Henri knew what Shawn had done.

Shawn knew perhaps he'd be rewarded for calling out a warning, to alert the others to the presence of one of their targets. But instead, he just looked away in shame.

"Get in." Gaggle said. She snapped Shawn out of his daze, focusing him on the fact that she had entered the dilapidated Volswagon and was now encouraging him to get in. "We don't want to wait, there is a lot of preparation that has to be done before the really sad, depressing work of killing people and ruining their souls forever begins."

Shawn got into the Volkswagen and tried calm his shaken nerves. He had to focus on the terrible things he was about to do, not the terrible things he had done.

"You look upset" Gaggle remarked.  It sounded like she was going to offer words of advice or some kind of condolence to Shawn. The she said "Just remember that all hope is gone. It's like the sun is setting during the last sunset. Or clouds that gather during a storm, blocking out the happiness and sunshine forever. All sense of good and safety in the world replaced with sadness and loss for all eternity."

"It's not about hope, it's about survival." Shawn normally wouldn't have replied, but with what he was about to do, he felt the need to justify himself.

Gaggles nodded in understanding.  "The guilt. The feelings of shame. And the overwhelming weight of what we must do. And what we've done. What I've done. Sometimes I wish I had just killed myself. Then all the pain and suffering would have been over. You might want to think about that. About killing yourself. That's what I would do if I were in your shoes. You don't want to end up like me. Suffering forever in damnation. Surely killing yourself would be better."

Shawn noted that Gaggles comments seemed in stark contrast to the Cherrywinks. He seemed almost delighted by the idea of running the Circus. Of living...whatever strange, damned experience this place was. Except when he was on the phone. Shawn could still see how Cherrywinks reacted on the phone, the Clown was terrified in that moment.

Shawn clammed up after that comment - what could he say to being told to kill yourself? Especially when he was worried that she was right. He tried to think of Bobby - he was doing this for Bobby. If he could get Bobby free of the Circus...whatever happened to Shawn might be worth it.

"You really should." Gaggle encouraged.  She put the Volswagon into gear and it popped with a loud burst of gas, sounding like a shotgun round coming out of the muffler. Shawn could smell the exhaust. "I've already tried many times." She extended her arms and Shawn could see many red slashes along. The clown's wrists. They were red and pink scarred against white pallid flesh.

"The best way is to cut in a downward motion. Not across." She explained. Then she gently pressed the accelerator and the car lurched forward, heading down the hill, Henri still hiding behind the gaming booth, the car getting closer to him. Gaggles didn't seem to notice.

Shawn looked out the window at an oblique angle - enough that he could see if Henri was still hiding behind the gaming booth in his peripheral vision, but off to the side enough that Gaggles couldn't just follow his gaze to notice what he was looking at.

"Yes. Killing yourself." Gaggles said, warming to the idea in her somber, melodramatic tone, depressed as ever.

She wasn't paying attention and didn't follow Shawn's gaze as his eyes met Henri's own eyes, rain drumming down on top of the car.

Shawn immediately looked away, unable to meet Henri's gaze.

They drove onward. Past the gaming booths of side-show alley and towards the tent where Shawn and Bobby had rescued Ralph. The rain was falling down hard. It pounded the roof and windshield of the car with the relentless drumming and intensity of a massive storm. Gaggles didn't even seem to notice the rain, not even bothering to turn on the windshield wipers. The pulled up to the tent of the Master Maker.



"We're here. At the Master Maker's tent. He or the Fortune Teller will probably be the next to arrive. Once Mr. Cherrywinks gets a few more noses. Ralph was supposed to be the assistant to the Master Maker. But now it looks like he fled the coop. It's going to be sad that I have to kill his whole family. I'm just waiting on orders from Mr. Cherrywinks now. It's also sad that we'll have to find another Ralph. Even though he was so young and innocent, I think he was just beginning to get used to this place. You really should consider killing yourself once you get back to your room. The Book should still be in the tent of the Master Maker where you left it." Gaggles said.

Shawn tried to ignore what Gaggles said about Ralph. He hopped out of the car and went back to get the Book.

Shawn got out of the car and went into the tent.   The Book was, exactly where he left it. He pushed passed the tent flap and was instantly out of the rain. As he approached the Book, he saw, through to his own room.

Throught the torrent of rain outside, he heard Gaggle's voice. She was muttering on about Shawn. Shouting out unnecessary philosophical quotes about how the purpose of Shawn's life might be just to serve as a warning to others.

Turning back to the Book, Shawn decided whether or not to return to his room, or spend any more time in this strange, haunted place.

Shawn, not wanting to spend another moment in this place, took the Book and tried to send himself home.

OOC: Shawn Join's Thread:

Shawn: Bobby's Got Some Information