Sara scratched her head. "I don't think I did... So wait, is there a king monster now?"

 "The Tattooed Lady said that he goes by other names. But it isn’t safe to say what the names are. Just saying them might kind of bring him more to life. I dunno what she meant by that. ”

"Say, are you planning on getting more tattoos from her. Do you, trust her?”" Mark asked
This message was last edited by the player at 15:46, Mon 12 Aug 2019.

"Prop... No, no I haven't," Sara says, shaking her head irritably.

“But do you trust the tattooed lady?” Mark asked in a low, conspiratorial tone. In the background, the radio was blasting a loud, jazzy crescendo.

Sara raises an eyebrow exaggeratedly. "Sure, I guess? When you're that powerful, you don't need to lie. Do you?"

Mark reached his hand behind his back, slowly, slowly, as if he had something behind there and was about to pull it out....
“hmmmmm...I don’t know if I trust these ‘things.’ I’m not sure they are god. But I feel like I do not have a choice....”

It looked like Mark’s hands had clutched whatever was behind there, ready to pull out....

"What is it?" Sara asked sharply, frowning.

Mark flinched when Sara spoke sharply, causing him to fumble whatever he was about to pull out from behind his back. It fell onto the ground next to one of the old tires.

Mark stared down at it
“It’s Bubble-licious bubble gum. Want some?”

"Euch, no," Sara cringed, then gave the kid a suspicious look. Why did he keep trying to give her stuff? "So how did you end up working for her?"

Mark swung his feet back and forth against the tire. He placed two or three pieces of bubble gum in his mouth and started to chew.

"I'm not from here. But there was a big monster where I'm from. I'm from Minnesota. Anyway, the big bad monster came in the snow. And we were having a big snow fight. And it came and it ate everyone....."

Mark paused for a long while as the jazz music played. It was like the telling of the story or hearing his own voice tell it was taking a lot out of him. Finally he said one word:

"Cherrywinks"

Sara blinked. Did that mean anything to her...? "What, the pastry?"

"No. What?" Mark asked, surprised. He looked like he was about to answer somehow, or try to say something that would further clarify what Cherrywinks was. Instead, Sara's response seemed to distract him. "Oh. You got a snack you want to share? Is it one of those apple pies?"

"No," she frowned, again. But she checked just in case. She didn't have any snacks on her, right? "Cherrywinks have cherries in them. Duh." At least, she assumed those were cherries.

"Shhhhhhhhhh!" Mark hissed at Sara, the first time she had seen something resembling anger come from the boy.

"Don't say his name!!!! He might hear. You...you don't know if he is watching." Mark nearly shouted, even though that was exactly what Mark had done just moments before and even he said the radio would block everything out.

The boy started to fidget his hands together in a nervous twitch.

Sara gives him a skeptical look, tilting her head. "So, what, he hears it every time people talk about the cookies? That's dumb."

"Cookies?" Mark asked, the anger all leaking out of him as Sara spoke the word. "You've got cookies and apple pastries?"

The look on his face was that of a kid who had just hit the jack pot or found a good luck penny or some kind of four leaf clover.

Urgh, another dumb kid. It's like she was a magnet. The adults weren't any better either. "Tell me about the monster," she said, after a melodramatic sigh.

“Cherryw.......”

Mark caught himself before finishing the name. “He is the oldest and worst of the bad monsters in the Evil Circus. When he comes around, it’s to capture kids. Then he sucks the souls out of their bodies and dumps their bones in an old cave.”

"Didn't do that to you, though," Sara ventured.

Mark continued with his story, though now his voice took on a low, distant and reflective tone:

“I got away. But it wasn’t easy. We were in the snow. We just...we were building snow forts. That’s when it happened. A big storm. Big like just in the movies. Or like in a big important movie. But then the movie became a scary movie, like when you can’t see it because you aren’t allowed. Big kids can see some scary movies but small kids can’t. And medium kids or like, kids that aren’t big or small. They can see stuff sometimes but then they are told to cover their eyes during the scary parts.”

Mark finished. But then, as if remembering he had forgotten to say something added.

“I got away. Because in the storm, The Tattooed Lady came, and I told her I could help her. And she said. Ok. But you know what? I think there are two others here who got away. Two kids came here. I got to find them. One is named Shawn. The other is named Delilah.”

That Shawn? And that Delilah? Huh... "Wait, help her do what?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:53, Thu 22 Aug 2019.

“I didn’t want to help her!!!! I didn’t want to!!!! But Mr. Cherryw..... the Clown. He was killing and killing the kids. And there was a storm. And we were all trapped. And the bad clown was coming!!! And there was no way out! I had to do it! I had to help her. It’s not my fault!!!” Mark said, not providing any further details to what he had helped with.

"And Delilah and Shawn, are they helping her too?" Sara questioned him, ignoring his clear agitation.

Mark wipes some tears from his eyes with his forearm. Then he sniffled as Louis Armstrong’s A Kiss To Build A Dream On played through a long, static interlude on the radio.

“What?” Mark asked Sara. It was clear he had been caught up reacting to whatever emotion he was feeling and hadn’t really heard what Sara has said.

"Never mind," Sara said. He probably didn't know either way, if he was looking for them. But... Shawn knew things. It had to be that Shawn. Right?

"Okay, so... what do we do now?"