Monsterstreet #3, page 7
Even though the sky was grumbling, Ren could hear the coffin onstage ticking as loud as a drum. For a moment, he questioned if it was his own heartbeats he was hearing.
Just then, a peculiar green glow pulsated in the sky, and rain began to pour down over the dark carnival, drenching it with a sick luminescence.
Then . . .
One by one, the trick-or-treaters stood up. Those desiring to bind themselves to the carnival approached the stage, leaving behind their jack-o’-lanterns, pumpkin buckets, and pillowcases full of candy. The few who denied the offer remained sitting in their pews for a moment, then, seeming to find the same strength within themselves that Mrs. Wellshire had conjured long ago, they stood to leave. Ren knew that the ones who had already reached old age would check in to Old Manor the next morning.
This is my chance to find Kip’s soul-clock, Ren thought.
He snuck to the back of the line and watched as each trick-or-treater ahead of him opened the coffin door, and their soul-clock mysteriously appeared inside it, hovering in midair. Each clock was a different size and shape and had an unknown amount of heartbeats remaining in it.
Strangest of all, as soon as each person grabbed hold of their soul-clock, marionette strings magically appeared attached to their shoulders from some unseen source high above in the clouds.
It seemed the storm itself was the puppet master.
The strings lifted each convert into the air and dangled them before the hub of the Ferris wheel. Only, it wasn’t just a hub. It was a mouth.
If that really is the dark heart of the carnival, then how am I going to get it beyond the boundary? Ren wondered.
He watched as the hub opened its jaws, revealing sharp, salivating fangs. Nearby, the Tick-Tock Man waved his arms as if conducting a macabre symphony. It seemed the world below was the stage for some cosmic battle between good and evil.
An aged boy dressed in a Bigfoot costume tossed his soul-clock into the haunted mouth, and the hub’s fangs chewed it while the next trick-or-treater ascended and repeated the ritual. And then another. And another. Until all the clocks had been fed.
All except one, which was still ticking within the coffin.
The Tick-Tock Man noticed one last customer in line wearing a skeleton costume and skull mask.
The magician glanced up at the clock-gauge at the top of his lightning-rod cane.
“It seems there’s still one last clock in the coffin,” the magician called out to Ren. “Last chance, boy! Only fifteen more minutes until midnight. Time’s almost up.”
The last clock in the coffin must be Kip’s, Ren thought. This is my chance to get it back.
Ren slowly approached the coffin beside the Tick-Tock Man, knowing he’d only have one opportunity to grab Kip’s clock and destroy the carnival. But just as he was about to open the lid, the magician pulled off Ren’s mask.
“I thought I smelled a rat!” the Tick-Tock Man yelled. “Do you have a death wish, boy?”
The other carnies closed in around Ren. The bats circling above descended toward him.
“I’m only here to get my brother’s clock back!” Ren shouted.
The Tick-Tock Man laughed.
“I’m afraid it’s quite too late for that,” he said with an evil smile.
“Give him a refund! Please!” Ren begged.
“There are no refunds at the carnival, boy,” the magician replied.
“Wanna bet?” Ren shouted.
Without hesitating, he reached for the coffin door to grab Kip’s clock and make a run for it.
But before he could, the Tick-Tock Man opened the ticking coffin at the center of the stage and revealed a man-size mummy standing inside it, already holding Kip’s soul-clock.
25
Fright Night
Kip! Ren thought in horror, observing his man-size little brother wrapped in the mummy-gauze that Aunt Winnie had dressed him in earlier that evening. The clock that Kip was holding was strong and daring, a physical representation of his soul.
Kip’s eyes were glazed over, as if he was under a spell.
Ren reached for him, but the Tick-Tock Man lifted his hand and zapped Ren with a bolt of purple light. Paralyzed, Ren stood frozen as a statue, unable to move.
“You thought you were clever locking your brother up in your room tonight,” the Tick-Tock Man mocked, circling the coffin like a tiger stalking its prey. “But I have many ways to reach those who belong to the carnival.”
The mirror, Ren realized. The Tick-Tock Man brought Kip through the portal!
“W-why are you doing this?” Ren asked, barely able to move his lips.
“Eternal youth, of course,” the Tick-Tock Man explained. “Once your brother feeds his soul-clock to the carnival, he’ll belong with us for all of time. I’m grateful to you, Ren, for letting your brother walk right into our tribe. Without you turning your back on him, he never would have known the everlasting thrills of the carnival . . . and we never would have gained his soul.”
“I never would have walked away if I had known what would happen!” Ren said.
“Ah, our actions become so clear in retrospect, don’t they?” The Tick-Tock Man knocked on the coffin. Kip blinked, revealing there was still some conscious life inside him. Then, slowly, he stepped out of the death-box.
“It’s time,” the Tick-Tock Man whispered to Kip.
Kip turned his back to Ren and faced the Ferris wheel. Marionette strings instantly attached to Kip’s shoulders, lifted him to the hub, and Ren watched as Kip fed his soul-clock to the carnival.
“No!” Ren shouted as Kip descended back to the stage.
“There’s nothing you can do now,” the Tick-Tock Man said. “Every tick has been sucked into the belly of the carnival and will soon be transferred to our bodies. You see, we feed the carnival, and it feeds us.”
Ren remained silent. Helpless. Defeated.
The Tick-Tock Man motioned for the line of trick-or-treaters, no longer attached to the marionette strings, to climb into the twelve carts of the Ferris wheel. Ren watched as Kip and the others handed their special tickets to a middle-aged carnie and climbed on.
A moment later, the Tick-Tock Man pulled the lever.
Ren kept his eyes on Kip as the Ferris wheel began to spin backward.
A flash of lightning struck the clock at the top of the magician’s cane, circulating a wave of electric magic into the wheel.
Purple light zapped through each passenger’s mask and into their eye sockets. The more lightning that flowed into the magician’s cane, the faster the Ferris wheel spun backward.
Thunder rumbled.
Rain bulleted.
Wind whirled.
And the ride rattled.
With each revolution, the tents and rides of the carnival seemed to grow shinier, the food smelled sweeter, and the carnies looked younger.
The backward clock! Ren realized, noticing that the Tick-Tock Man no longer had any gray hair on the sides of his head, and the middle-aged carnie on stage now looked like a teenager. It’s the Ferris wheel! But then . . . what’s the heart of the carnival?
After countless revolutions, Kip and the other costumed trick-or-treaters climbed out of their carts and lined up again on the stage around Ren, forming a circle. Ren couldn’t see behind Kip’s mask, but he could tell his little brother was back to his normal nine-year-old size.
As soon as Kip and the others stepped back onto the stage, the circle of purple-flame torches surrounding them snuffed out and the jack-o’-lanterns on the pews and midway dimmed.
Finally, the Tick-Tock Man shouted, “Fellow carnies, welcome to an eternity of thrills and pleasures. Now that you are one with the carnival, you may remove your masks!”
Ren watched as Kip removed his mummy wrappings. His face looked young again but paler, and his eyes were . . . solid black.
No! Ren thought, accepting that Kip’s soul now fully belonged to the carnival. He looked around at the other trick-or-treaters and realized that they all had black eyes and pale faces as well.
“I said—remove your masks!” the Tick-Tock Man commanded once again.
But . . . they already took them off, Ren thought.
Then, in the eerie glow of the night, he watched as Kip and the others began to peel off their human faces, revealing something unimaginable beneath. . . .
26
Forever’s End
Ren cringed at the nightmarish creatures surrounding him. Lightning flashed, illuminating the most hideous faces he had ever seen.
They each had white skin.
Red noses.
Black eyes.
Curly, wiglike hair.
And snakelike fangs.
Clowns! Ren thought in utter horror. And not just clowns but vampire clowns!
A flock of bats circled above, and Ren sensed it was the gang of carnies—ones who had operated rides, sold them food, made them think that the carnival was all fun and pleasures. They screeched in a chorus of darkness, welcoming their new family members.
The rain poured down upon Kip and the sinister cult of clowns, and Ren noticed that the white paint on their faces didn’t smear or smudge.
It isn’t paint at all, Ren thought. It’s their actual skin.
The Tick-Tock Man stepped forward and removed his human face like a mask. Beneath it, he looked like the others too, but his eyes seemed darker, his fangs hungrier, and his claws sharper.
Ren realized that the transformed magician looked just like the monster of the darkest dark. The same one he had seen in the mirror maze two nights before.
At the terrified look on Ren’s face, the Carnie King said, “What’s the matter, boy? Did you really think eternity would come without a price? You should always read the fine print before you sign the dotted line. These faces are the price we pay. But still, you’ll grow old and die like all the others. And we’ll still be alive.”
“You call that being alive?” Ren challenged. “Give me back my brother, or else I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure no town anywhere in the world ever lets you in!”
The Tick-Tock Man laughed, and yellow drool fell from his rotted lips.
“You think you’re the first to spout empty threats at me during the Feast of Souls? There are far too many towns for you to protect! Villages in jungles and on islands and in secret places you’ll never find. But we know them all. We feast on them every seventy-seven years. And there’s nothing you can do to stop our eternal cycle.”
Ren examined the disfigured shell that was his brother, then peered up at the mouth of the Ferris wheel.
He remembered the words that Zora had spoken: the bond of love repels evil, but a love-bond broken invites evil in.
Suddenly . . .
Everything became clear.
“Take my soul instead of his!” Ren shouted.
The Tick-Tock Man laughed.
“Makes no difference to me,” the Tick-Tock Man said. “A soul is a soul.”
“Then it won’t matter if I take his place and you let him go free.”
“All right, then,” the Tick-Tock Man agreed with a wicked cackle. “Your soul for your brother’s. But you pay first. And you’d better hurry before the wheel fully digests his clock and there’s no chance of getting it back.”
Ren took one final moment to consider the weight of his wager.
“It’s a deal, then? I’ll receive the bite and feed my clock to the wheel. Then you have to turn my brother back into his normal self and let him go. And you have to promise never to come after him again.”
“Deal,” the Tick-Tock Man said, putting his hand out for Ren to shake.
The frozen spell released, and Ren shook the magician’s hand.
Then, the Carnie King leaned down and sank his fangs into Ren’s forearm. It stung like a bee sting.
Immediately, a soul-clock appeared in Ren’s hand. It was ordinary, precise, and in perfect order. There was nothing unusual about it.
The Tick-Tock Man snapped his fingers in command, and the spellbound Kip approached Ren and removed the clock from Ren’s hands—the final clock of the night.
“You’ll be free soon, Kip,” Ren whispered, knowing he might never see his brother again. “Just always remember that I love you.”
Kip’s black eyes stared back at him, and for a moment, Ren was sure his brother had understood him.
Like a servant, Kip handed Ren’s soul-clock to the Tick-Tock Man.
Kip stared at Ren blankly, but Ren soon realized that Kip was slightly nodding toward something, as if trying to give Ren a signal.
Ren glanced over and saw what Kip was wanting him to see.
The clock on the top of the magician’s cane, Ren realized. All the power of the Ferris wheel is coming through it. The cane clock—it’s the heart of the carnival! I have to find a way to move it beyond the boundary!
Just then, the Tick-Tock Man raised Ren’s clock toward the storm.
“Wait,” Ren said. “I’ll feed it myself.”
The Tick-Tock Man grinned and held the clock out for Ren to take. Ren knew he’d only have half a moment to steal the heart of the carnival and destroy it once he retrieved Kip’s soul-clock.
He also knew that he would die along with the carnival once he fed his own soul to it.
Ren took his clock back into his hands, and marionette strings attached to his shoulders and lifted him thirty feet in the air to the hub. The voracious fangs salivated, waiting for the final clock of the night.
The Tick-Tock Man stood below, grinning.
“You’ve already gone this far!” he shouted. “Just go a little farther. There’s no way to stop us now! This is the only way you can save your brother!”
Ren took a deep breath and was just about to feed his soul-clock to the carnival in exchange for his brother’s when . . .
A girl’s voice called out from beside the stage. “He may not be able to stop you, but I can!”
Ren moved his eyes and saw a vampire clown in a black dress standing there, holding something in her hand.
Zora! Ren thought.
The Tick-Tock Man stepped toward her. “How dare you interrupt the sacred ritual, Zora! What do you think you’re doing?”
“What I should have done long ago,” she said. “Choosing the other side of the coin.”
She flipped a gold token in the air, and it landed in the magician’s wretched palm.
Zora then revealed the other thing she was holding. . . .
The glowing heart of the carnival from the top of the magician’s cane.
Ren glanced at the coffin and realized the cane was no longer attached to the top of it but was lying broken in two pieces on the stage. Zora had somehow stolen the clock from it while the Tick-Tock Man wasn’t looking.
The magician stepped toward her, feigning gentleness, but Ren could tell he was fuming with anger. And fear.
“Dear, dear Zora. Be careful there. I’ve been a father to you, haven’t I? Just like I promised I would be on the night you fed your soul to the carnival,” the Tick-Tock Man said, slowly stepping toward her, as if to earn the trust of a nervous animal before snapping its neck. “Isn’t that what you wanted more than anything? A father?”
“You took my life from me! And from everyone else!” Zora said, fighting back tears. “I was too young to know the weight of my decision and didn’t have parents around to protect me. Everything I’ve lived for seventy-seven years is a lie—a mask for what I really am. This isn’t the way it should be. I should have grown up. I could have fallen in love. I could have had a family. But I sacrificed it all. For this twisted illusion.”
The Tick-Tock Man hissed at her like an angry serpent.
“We all choose the illusions we live by, and you chose yours! Now give me back the heart,” he replied. “You know the soul-harvest must be finished before midnight or we all starve.”
“Let them all go!” Zora shouted. “Or I’ll—I’ll take the heart of the carnival beyond the boundary!” Ren sensed it wasn’t an impulsive threat, but one she had considered a thousand times before.
The Tick-Tock Man shot her a grave look. Kip awaited his next command. Ren watched from above, holding tight to his soul-clock, waiting to see who was going to win this game of chess.
“You wouldn’t dare,” the Tick-Tock Man said, attempting to call Zora’s bluff.
He waited a moment to gauge her next move, then grinned victoriously and turned back toward his army of clowns.
“Goodbye, Ren,” Zora called out. “It’s time for me to make things right.”
Then . . .
Ren watched in shock as Zora held the heart of the carnival close to her chest, sprinted across the midway, disappeared between two tents, and stepped across the forbidden boundary . . .
To forever’s end.
27
Heart Broken
“NO!” the Tick-Tock Man screamed, running after Zora.
Ren watched from a distance as the heart of the carnival disintegrated and Zora’s body morphed into a teenager, then a middle-aged woman, then an old woman with white hair that looked a lot like Mrs. Wellshire’s. Then her hair grew past her toes and she was a corpse, lying lifeless on the ground. Last, the corpse turned to dust and blew away in the Hallows’ Eve wind with the heart of the carnival just as the banished carnie’s remains had done the night before.
The Tick-Tock Man fell to his knees at the carnival boundary and examined the spot where Zora had existed only a moment before. He gazed down in disbelief that both she and the heart of the carnival, his very soul, were gone forever.
Checkmate, Ren thought.
Just then, the marionette strings that were attached to his shoulders disappeared, and he began to fall. He quickly grabbed hold of a bar on the Ferris wheel. Holding on with one hand, he tried to figure out what to do next.
