Chapter 1: The Carnival
Everything happening at the carnival had become filled with laughter which can be heard from one side and screaming could be heard from the other. Children were yanking their parents’ hands, directing them to the rides, and games…
Henderson is one of those parents whose children grasped onto his large hands, yanking him to ride after ride, and game after game. Yet, all he wanted to do right now would be to get the hell out of there and have a nice scotch in the comfort of his home. He had work to do early tomorrow, having to get up early to go to the station to work on some cases and filing them away if they weren’t important. Henderson was only 35 years old with stormy blue eyes, and straight, black hair with a bit of five o’clock stubble was starting to happen.
“Come on Dad! We’ve got to go through the FunHouse!” Claire shouts on top of her lungs, tugging on her father’s arm. Her dirty blonde hair in pigtails, her light blue eyes widen as she stares at the FunHouse in awe. She could barely hold in her excitement at the loud screams leaving the FunHouse, her urge to want to go into that place was high and Claire knew that if her father didn’t hurry up with an answer real soon, she would just go ahead and go into the place.
Henderson exhales softly, glad that his daughter didn’t hear him and he pulls out his phone to check the time. His screen on his phone lights up, in white numbers the clock read 8:15pm. Fuck sakes… He thought as he felt his daughter tugging on his arm to have him get moving. The carnival ended in about fifteen minutes, fifteen more minutes till Henderson could rest his head on his pillow and fall asleep till he had to go to work the next morning. “Alright, fine. But we’ve got to make it quick, Claire darling. Meaning, no talking to any of the kids inside of the FunHouse or any strangers that approach you. You understand me?”
His daughter jumps up and down in excitement when she heard her father say that she could go into the FunHouse, her blue eyes lighting up like it was the Fourth of July and her grip loosens. She was beyond excited now that she could go into the FunHouse without her father, and those words of not talking to any stranger or child stuck in her head because she didn’t want to get scolded at later when she exited the amusement house and it took forever for her to find her way out. “Okay! I’ll be quick Dad, don’t you worry!” Claire responds back to her father loudly over the shouts and screams of the people around them, she hurries her way through the crowd to get to her destination; determined to go through the whole house by herself without her father standing by her side.
Henderson smiles faintly when he saw his daughter’s eyes light up, he watches as she makes her way through the crowd and to the FunHouse. He shoves his hands into his pockets, walking over to the bench near the exit of the FunHouse and waits for his daughter.
After a few minutes of boredom, he pulls out his phone and turns it on. It read 8:30, closing time.. But where was Claire? She should’ve came out by now… Henderson gets up off the bench, watching as the last batch of the children in the FunHouse, this time he became worried. He goes over to a parent, and her son and he says in a polite voice, “Excuse me?”
The woman glanced up at the stranger, her facial expression showed confusion and she says, “Yes?” She holds her son’s hand tightly as she took a step back because she didn’t know this man’s intentions.
Henderson looks at the boy, he kneels down to his level and he pushes back his own black bangs from his face. “When you were in there, did you happen to see a little girl in there with dirty blonde hair in pigtails? She looks like this…” He scrambled to pull out his phone, and when he does get it out, he shows the young kid a picture of his daughter.
The boy stared at the photo of the girl on the stranger’s phone with a blank face, racking his memories and then he simply nods in response. The boy was no older than his own daughter, probably a year younger. He had chestnut-colored hair, and green eyes, he wore summer clothes that were fitted for a carnival that always came into town and he was gripping a teddy bear rather tightly to his chest; probably won that at one of the stations with games.
Henderson gives out a sigh of relief, not realizing that he was holding his breath and he then says, “Where? Where did you see her exactly?” He shoves his phone back into his front pocket as he waits. His fingers playing with the loose paper in his pockets nervously, not sure how to remain calm because he was on full “dad alert” as he looked through the dissipating crowd that was heading towards the gates.
The kid glances up at his mother, not sure if he should respond, but his mother gave him a nod to go on. The boy looks at the man, and in a soft voice, says, “She’s in the FunHouse… Went off with this Mister Clown.” He wasn’t sure why this man was becoming nervous, but it was making him feel a bit uncomfortable around this older man.
The man’s eyes widen in panic, his heart began to pound loudly in his chest and he says, “No. No. No.” Not sure if he heard the little boy right, but Henderson knew deep down that he did hear the boy say what he said. His face turns a ghastly pale, almost becoming a sickish white as he tries to gather his thoughts together to actually go investigate. He stands up real fast, looking at the FunHouse, and he begins to run to the exit with no extra thoughts, except that he had to find Claire. Henderson grabs an employee by the shirt that had began to close the FunHouse, and he says, “My daughter is still in there!”
The employee stares at the man that had grabbed him by the shirt, and he says in a dull tone of voice, “Sir. There’s no one in there.” He didn’t show any sort of emotion to the older man, considering the guards had swept through the whole place and told him that it was a go-to close up the last amusement house for the night.
“No, my daughter is in there. You don’t understand. A boy told me that he saw my daughter,” Henderson responds back, his tone of voice full of disbelief. His grip on the employee’s shirt tightens as he spoke. Henderson wasn’t giving up because he was scared that something happened to her, he didn’t want to believe anything bad… Not yet anyways…
“We did our nightly sweep through the FunHouse, sir. There was nobody in there, come back tomorrow. Maybe Security saw her wandering around and took her to the Security Lodge.” The employee responds, he prys the older man’s fingers off of his shirt and he takes a step back. That was the only consoling thing he could tell the parent in front of him, not really sure how to take this interaction in whatsoever.
Henderson shakes his head no, pursing his lips into a thin line and says, “No, the boy said that she went off with one of your employees that dressed up as a clown for the FunHouse.” He searches the teen’s face for any hint that an employee had shown Claire out of the FunHouse before closing time and took her to the Lodge to wait for Henderson to get her.
The employee’s face went white as a ghost, and he says, “Sir, we don’t have any employees in the FunHouse that’s dressed as a clown…”
Henderson’s heart drops instantly when he hears those words, he takes a step back and he says, “Get Security here now… She has to be here…” He pulls out his phone, turning his back from the employee and Henderson dials 9-1-1. He puts his phone to his ear, waiting for a response from the operator. His heart jumping in his throat as blood rushes through his veins, the adrenaline kicking in.
“Hello, operator speaking. What is the emergency?”
Henderson sits down on the bench, clearing his throat and says, “Emerson, it’s Officer Brooks. We’ve got a 207 at the Carnival on the Pier.” Henderson stares at the pier that was beginning to go dark, the lights to all the rides go dark, and one by one the place was almost engulfed in the suffocating dark but the FunHouse kept it lit brightly.
“The name of the person kidnapped, sir?” Emerson asks on the line.
Henderson stares at the FunHouse, watching security running into the building and he says, “My daughter.” He pushed the end call, and he waits for the back-up to arrive.
