The Demon Carnival

Annamarie:

It was supposed to be a typical, post-college graduation summer road trip to California with my parents and my two best friends, Lana and August. We were driving through Death Valley, on the Nevada side, when we were stopped by a man standing in the middle of the road. The car headlights washed over him, sending a shiver down my spine. He was wearing long red robes open over black pants and a black shirt. He held a tall scepter with a glowing purple jewel at the top. He was glaring at us. My dad, who was sitting in the driver's seat, opened his window.

"Do you need help?" He called out. The man didn't answer. He raised his scepter and began chanting in some unidentifiable language. Another shiver ran down my spine. Something's wrong. Whatever that guy is doing, it's not good.

"Dad...I think we need to get out of here. Now."

My dad closed his window and nodded. He put the car into reverse and backed up. Then, putting the car back into drive, my dad tried to go around the guy. We didn't get too far when we slammed into some invisible barrier. Luckily, our airbags went off. My sense of dread grew as I turned around and saw the robed guy walking towards us. He still had his scepter raised and his chanting seemed to have gotten louder.

“Mr. Smith!" Lana screamed. Before we could react, there was a loud popping sound and everything went dark.

I opened my eyes and looked around. I was in some kind of huge tent that had red and gold stripes and laying on a large, wooden bench. It seemed to be completely empty and neither my parents nor my friends were anywhere to be seen. Where are they? I have to go find them. I tried to sit up, but something kept me from sitting up all the way. I looked at myself and realized there wasn't anything holding me down. What the hell? I struggled to sit up when I heard someone clear their throat. I stopped and looked around the room and saw someone literally emerge from the shadows. He had an annoyingly smug look on his face.

"That won't work, you know." I immediately realized it was the man who my parents' car had almost run into.

"Who the hell are you? Where am I? Why are you keeping me here? Where are my friends and my parents?"

"I am Mr. Pierre Olivier. You may call me Pierre." He paused. I glared at him.

"Are you gonna answer any of my other questions?" His smile only seemed to grow.

"I can if it makes you more willing to give me your soul." My eyes practically bugged out of my skull.

"What?"

"Well, that is how I survive and my power grows. I tear out a person's soul and leave their body to rot while I slowly eat their soul over time."

I cringed. He can't be telling the truth. None of this is real. I'm probably in a hospital in Nevada, in a coma. Which...admittedly, is probably not much better.

"Ew. Where are my parents and my friends, you psycho?"

"Would you like me to answer any of your other questions first?" I glared at him.

"Are you gonna keep feeding me lies?

"I have not lied to you once. Yet." He sneered as he came closer.

"You are seriously messed up." Pierre laughed hysterically.

"By your standards, most likely. By mine...not so much. Now, as to where you are...You are in... What do you modern humans call it? Oh, a pocket dimension!"

"A...pocket dimension? My parents, my friends and I are stuck in a pocket dimension of your own making?" Pierre clapped his hands.

"Precisely! As to your question about why I am keeping you here...what do you mean? Here in this tent? Or here in my carnival pocket dimension?" I struggled against the invisible straps keeping me down.

"Either! Why do you need me? Why do you need my friends? My parents?"

"Did you miss the part where I said that I eat their souls to survive and to increase my magical abilities?" I growled at him still struggling against whatever was holding me down.

"No, I did not miss that part. I just...unh!...missed the part where any of this is real." Pierre put his hands together again.

"Wonderful! Now, sit still so I can figure out how to rip out your soul." My eyes widened.

"Wait, you didn't rip out my soul when we got here...who knows how long ago?" Pierre shot me an uncomfortable look.

"...No. I couldn't something prevented me from doing so."

Suddenly, relief welled up in my chest. That means something, right? If he had problems pulling my soul out, doesn't that mean that I might still be able to save my friends and parents? Pierre stood right in front of me, waving his hands over me as he chanted something under his breath. I felt a tugging sensation in my chest and closed my eyes, trying to push it away. The tugging sensation became more painful. It began to feel like my life was slipping away. No, more like being ripped away. Pierre growled.

"This would be less painful if you would just submit and let me take your soul, you stupid girl." My eyes flew open and everything seemed to be brighter, clearer.

"I'm not just gonna give you my soul, Pierre. I need it to protect my parents and my friends. You're gonna have to take it from me!"

Suddenly, a wave of light flew out from me, knocking Pierre backward. The tugging sensation I'd felt was gone and I felt drained. I didn't have time to wonder what just happened as I forced myself to sit up and dragged myself off the bench, staggering to my feet. I stumbled out of the tent as fast as I could and looked around. The carnival was filled with people, but...not exactly. They were all see-through as if they were ghosts. Some of them were less transparent than others, but they all seemed to just float through the carnival as if they had no idea of how much danger they were in. I frantically looked around as I tried to put some distance between myself and Pierre's tent. Where do I even go? How do I get out of here? Then, I heard a loud whistle. I stopped and looked around. My gaze landed on a tall, dark-haired man around my age standing near a game booth.

"You!" I looked at him, confused. "Yes, you, girl! Get over here!" I tiredly staggered over to the guy.

"What do you want?"

"Anamarie! Get back here right now!" I heard Pierre yell from the direction I'd come. The guy in front of me sneered.

"I have a feeling it's what you want..." He looked me up and down. "...Sweetheart."

"I don't need anything from you that badly," I snapped.

"Anamarie!" I whirled around and saw Pierre.

"Stay the fuck away from me, Pierre! Whatever you were doing in there, I'm not gonna just sit down and roll over while you do." Pierre glared at me.

"Then, this shall be more painful than necessary." He raised his hands, which began glowing a sickening green color, towards me and chanted something I recognized as one of his spells.

"No!" I instinctively raised my own hands and, once again, Pierre was thrown off his feet. Okay. Time to pass out now. I began dropping toward the ground as my vision darkened.