Page 6 of Hybrid Heroics

The man in question cursed loudly before shouting, “How do you expect me to pass the fire when it burns me?”

I snapped my fingers, and a circle appeared in the wall of flames at my command. The black band held the fire at bay, so he would have to leap through it if he wanted to continue this field trip.

Surprisingly, he did, landing in a rough crouch in front of me.

A slow grin crawled over my lips. “Look at you… Jumping through hoops for me.”

“Where are we?” he asked, his eyes narrowed as he tried to ignore my jab.

I began to hum the circus theme song as dim lights appeared throughout the blackened surroundings. Music took over, the cymbals echoing around us as I led him through my mind without a word.

In the distance, enormous spotlights spun and crossed, signaling the start of the demolition derby. The distinct sound of cars crashing and metal bending was drowned out by the cheers of the chaos-craving crowd.

A gondola floated to a stop a few feet to my right, the soft pink glow around the edges an intimate invite aboard the ride. Until you read the sign. What used to be the Tunnel of Love now had that anxiety-riddled L word marked out. In its place were flashing red letters that read Porn.

Somewhere around here, there was also a Bank of Spank. The vault door was heavy as fuck, but it was absolutely worth the trouble. Or it once was. At this point, I could retire the teller and the guard. All the masturbation material I needed was in the real world, probably freaking out about my unresponsive body.

I glanced around, taking in the homey feel of madness, as a massive Jack-in-the-box popped out at Alric. He gasped, landing on his ass. It was quite literally Jack’s face from a few Halloweens ago. He had dressed up as the Mad Hatter, but his makeup had been next-level frightening.

“Where the fuck are we?” Alric snarled, dusting himself off.

I would too. My mind could be filthy.

I cackled, and so did the faceless lady sitting in the tent beside us. She waved her hands over her milky crystal ball, a sinister smile pointed in Alric’s direction.

“I could have told you that was going to happen,” she mentioned, then stuck her nose in the air as she pouted. “But I knew you wouldn’t see me first. Now you get no fortunes.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Hilda,” I teased. “He’s here for secrets. And he already knows his future.”

She sniggered. “There are a few interesting days ahead. It’s pretty bleak after that.”

“She has no eyes,” Alric argued, frowning at being caught up in my insanity. “All the people here are you.”

Hilda growled. “I was her fourth-grade teacher. I’m here as punishment for not putting a stop to those little shits who picked on her brother. And I’m real, even if reality isn’t always real here. You don’t need eyes to see that.”

“I was a little shit then too,” I admitted.

“Was?” she parroted.

“Still am,” I corrected. “When I wrap this up, I’ll look for your body, Hilda. You only have a few months left.”

She huffed as I kept moving, passing the strong-man game. Headless Spencer swung his hammer, sending his face careening toward the bell at the top. There was a countdown clock above it, ticking away at the number each time his hit was good enough. He’d only made it into the six digits, but he was making progress.

Up ahead was a series of big-top tents, the classic red and white stripes running to the pitched center. Flags flapped as if a breeze blew through the air. Above the entrance, huge letters hung, the bright white bulbs blinking on and off to bring attention to the main attraction.

“How do you hide secrets if you advertise them?” Alric inquired, rushing ahead of me.

Sure. The letters said, “Secrets Here.” But there were no secrets inside that tent.

No.

There were only monstrous animals whipping the lion tamer into shape. And the ringmaster. And the clown that had sprayed water in my face.

“I wouldn’t go in there,” I stated calmly.

Alric didn’t move to enter the tent, though. Instead, I felt him prodding at the locks outside, trying to open the madhouse without stepping foot under the awning.

I giggled like a child, having attached those locks to a response that I rarely had. If anyone messed with them, it was the equivalent of tickling a toddler. And I hated it.