The mouth of the cave, was, simply put, enormous. The opening was like a the great, yawning maw of some primordial creature from a time long ago past. Shawn felt the wind from the entrance ruffle his hair the closer he got and the smell of dampness filled his nostrils as he crossed the threshold.

Shawn shivered a little, not as much from the wind as the dawning understanding of what he was walking into. Still, he knew that not entering would just condemn him to a slow death out here, so he gingerly stepped into the cave entrance and began the slow trudge deeper in.

It was a cave mouth of impenetrable blackness.

As Shawn stepped in, his shadow dissolved into the surrounding brown rock. Once past the threshold, it grew increasingly dark. There was a dank smell and the only sound was the dripping water.

Underfoot the loose stones shifted, twisting Shawn's ankle one way and then the other, and the noise of those disturbed rocks echoed off the dense stone walls. But without even a match to cast light into the black, there was no way to tell how deep the cave was or if Shawn's next step would take him into a free-fall off into some pit.

Amid the echoes of Shawn's footfalls, he heard what sounded like a whisper....

It was Feddler.

"Try to put your hands against the wall of the cave, to guide us." Feddler advised, in a low whisper, as if he was afraid of being heard, even though he was inside of Shawn's head.

Shawn nodded - Feddler couldn't see him, but he could probably read his memories that he had done it - and slowly shuffled towards where the nearest wall would be. When he found it, he started walking again, also very carefully testing the stone in front of him before he put his weight down on it, just in case there was a pit or even a sudden incline.

"There is no light here" Feddler cautioned, though that was obvious to Shawn as he strafed against the wall.

It was getting cold in the cave and Shawn could feel that there was a slight incline, even though it was dark. He was now pressed against the wall, cautiously moving down the incline into the unknowable darkness.

Then again there were strange sounds. Whispers in the wind. A collection of whispering voices all talking over one another. They grew slightly louder as if urging Shawn into the cave, an ominous warning that was drawing him even closer.

"It is inevitable. You were always supposed to be here." Feddler said, in response to the voices.

That's what Little Stone said. I'm here to make a decision. Shawn thought he knew what he had to do, unpleasant as it might be. He continued slowly making his way through the darkness, trying to occasionally catch any specifics in the whispers of warning.

The smell had grown danker and more pungent when Shawn felt the end of the wall with his fingertips.  And just like that there was nothing to guide him into the darkness. The end of the wall rounded off into brittle rock as Shawn felt the jagged edges with his finger tips.

Nothing.

Without anything to touch, the total blindness of the cave came rushing into Shawns conciousness, as the confusing whispers reached a crescendo.

What now? I suppose you could just...start walking forward into the dark
Feddler asked with a bit of uncertainty in his voice.

Well, it wasn't like Shawn could turn around and go back. Gingerly, he stepped forward, still feeling ahead for solid stone before he put his weight down. It was slower going, but even the idea of taking some sort of precaution was a little reassuring to Shawn.

There was nothing but darkness and in that moment Shawn realized what it truly meant to be blind.  His feet gingerly, trepidatiously, inched foward to find the rocky earth. The noise of each footfall sounded more like some rodent moving through crumbled rocks than a brave boy ready to confront someone who was seeking their revenge.

"I seeeeee you...!" Mr. Clayton's tinny voice rang out into the nothingness of the cave, bouncing all around with ricochet of a bullet and the threat of one as well. He sounded excited and maniacal, like whatever was about to happen, was something he would enjoy.

Shawn froze in place when he heard the voice, ceasing his careful footsteps. This was it, the start of the increasingly clear (to him), choice he had to make. “Mr. Clayton? I need to talk to you. Can Bradford hear us?” He called out clearly, trying to project his nervousness, but also a genuine interest in talking. He’d been profoundly afraid of interacting with Mr. Clayton in the past, and hoped that his desire to talk to him would be enough of a curiosity to get his attention.

After the short exchange, the voices and whispers that had been everywhere and nowhere around Shawn stopped entirely.

Then there really was no sound in the darkness, save for Shawn's breathing.

"You had something in mind? Oh do tell! I love a good story or even better... A child's idea! " Mr. Clayton broke the silence. It was hard to tell if he was mocking Shawn, or if he was genuinely interested in what Shawn might say.

"Can you show yourself? I mean, you don't have to...I'll just start." Shawn took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "It's just...I was told that everyone who comes here has a choice. And that Bradford already made his choice and it couldn't be changed. And I know you're filled with all of his anger and resentment, but I know that isn't all there is to you. Because I met you before you met Bradford."

"When I joined the Fortune Teller, she offered me a choice. I could become a magician, or I could learn to be a ventriloquist. I was afraid, so I didn't choose you. But everything that's happened...everything you've accomplished, I know now I made the wrong choice then." This wasn't a planned speech or anything; he'd be trying to avoid thinking about it as much as he could, lest his fear overwhelm him. But he'd feared dummies and puppets long before he'd heard of the Circus, and part of that was a conviction that they had wills, minds of their own. "I know Bradford's made his choice, but you haven't! You want power, you want to be real! Bradford's weak, everything he's done up to now is all because of you."

"I wanted to make you an offer - leave Bradford behind, and let me be your ventriloquist instead. I'll listen to the tapes, I'll learn what Bradford learned. He can't offer you what I can - I'm a real performer, I know how to do a double act! Maybe the choice I'm supposed to make here is taking back the one I made before. We were meant to be together - we both need scene partners...heck, I made Bobby into my dummy because I needed you and didn't know it." Shawn was babbling at this point, but he wasn't lying. He fully intended on keeping up his end of the deal. Mr. Clayton had incredible power, he seemed to know how to hurt the Circus. If he could face his fears and they worked together...

There was a silence after Shawn spoke that was even more deafening that the journey into the cave. Shawn could tell that the Puppet was thinking about what Shawn had said. There was a faint wind in the darkness of the cave that brought with it a musty smell. Then there was a loud, blocky sound.

Kuh-clock!!!

The sound of a transistor turning on accompanied A bright high beam blinded Shawn from out in front of his Vision. The light hurt, and Shawn could tell, even tempoarily blind that the light, and Mr. Clayton's voice, was coming from some height above the ground as if it was on the outcropping of a rocky ledge in the cave, inaccessible from the ground without climbing.


"You DID Make a mistake! You rejected me! You hurt me! You hurt me! You hurt Melee!" The Puppet's voice raged, light maintaining its harsh, florescent gaze upon Shawn.

"And if Bradford could say something right now, he'd say it the same way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The Puppet screamed,  voice turning from a high, tinny, mischevious octave, to a gravely, low and demonic one.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:55, Sat 24 Nov 2018.

Shawn shielded his eyes from the light, squinting up into the darkness at where the voice had come from. He kept his voice resolute, but understanding. “Yes, I hurt you. And you’ve hurt me back since. And I know you and me have hurt other people too. But that’s what happens when two people who’re meant to be make a mistake. We lash out without understanding why! Mr. Clayton, the only way we can stop hurting is if you let me fix my mistake! Otherwise, neither of us will ever be happy!”

The puppet made a soft, long sighing sound behind the spotlight as if Shawn's answer somewhat satisfied him.

"Well..." Mr. Clayton said into the darkness, though Shawn could now make out the silhouette of the puppet behind the spotlight. "Since I'm the anger and I'm in charge, the only thing I have to do is follow Bradford's decision and the one that I helped him make! I have to tell you that the only thing that I really want to say, is how I wish you had done this earlier. But, that's life! Yucka, Yucka!"

"Actually, in some ways, it doesn't change anything." The Puppet clarified.

"The plan was always to kidnap Bobby and Ralph."

"And then Bradford was planning on doing some really terrible things to them."

"If you don't stop Bradford in time....then, well...truly bad things will happen." The puppet's voice rose into a higher, more jovial pitch of near joy.

"But let me add this new twist that you spoke of to the little game!" The Puppet rejoiced, it's shadow giving a little hop of joy behind the spotlight.

"It's what Bradford wants and it's what I want, and it goes a little something like this!"

"Bradford is going to kill Bobby and then Ralph. We have them now, in our little...angry..hands. But first, he's going to make them suffer, just like you made him suffer. Just like you are responsible for his face and for Ron's death! Just like you made me suffer by leaving me for him!"

"So much suffering, it really shows there is no point to life at all. So you better stop Bradford before he kills your friends. Because if he don't, then he's going to kill you too. And you know the only way to stop him?"

"Kill him."

"Kill Bradford. Before he kills you're friends."

"If you do it, we can be together like we should have. If you don't, then Bradford will get his revenge, and so will I. Life is nothing. It would have been better off not to be born! Yucka, Yucka!"

Shawn kept squinting at the silhouette behind the spotlight, standing his ground. "You don't have to help him, Mr. Clayton. You can help me stop Bradford - you know he's nothing without you. Just join me now, we can stop him together." Shawn was holding out hope, that there was enough of 'Mr. Clayton' underneath all of Bradford's anger to rebel...or maybe that Bradford's anger was as self-sabotaging as Shawn's.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:56, Wed 28 Nov 2018.

A silhouette appeared to stand alongside the puppet next to the spotlight. It stopped at Mr. Clayton's shoulder, making the puppet appear quite short. Nevertheless, it was the size of kid. A kid perhaps Shawn's age.

"I glew it!" The voice said, sloffing the mispronounced words out as if it were some kind of retard. "I slought you might have changed." Bradford's sloppy voice started.

"You slurned my face off. You slilled my friends and family. You sluined my life! You slilled Ron! Nothing slill ever be the same. Ever! And slow I'm going to ruin your life. I'm slowing to take what you took from me!" Bradford screamed, the scream of a deranged mental patient.