Welcome to the Underground Circus

Funhouse of Horror

 

The mirror maze was the most annoying creation that humans ever invented, thought Paul. Every time he bumped into a mirror he cursed the creator. And he wasn’t the only one.

“There had better be an end to this, and soon,” muttered Doug as he clutched the table leg between his hands.

Steve was wandering with his arms outstretched. “Is anybody else creeped out by this?”

“By the clowns, the mirrors, or the fact that we’re surrounded by monsters?”

“All of it?” whimpered Steve.

Paul felt sorry for him. Steve was petrified of clowns on a good day so this was literally a nightmare coming true for him.

“Ahahaha!” A cackling clown appeared in the mirror next to Paul and before he could react, Doug swung his club and shattered it. They all spun, looking for the clown. He was everywhere! In every mirror! Steve cried out in absolute terror and Doug swung at all the mirrors.

The boys ran, scrambling to find the exit.

But the maze just kept going. Twists and turns. Mirrors that made them taller and mirrors that made them squat. After running in circles and passing mirrors that had already been smashed, they found their way out of the mirror maze and into a long hall lined with huge, colorful boxes. Blue boxes with red stars, yellow boxes with red stripes, and more, and they were all connected by a strange crank system.

“Great. We found Satan’s playroom,” said Doug as he stepped warily into the room.

The crank system started running and the boxes nearest them began to play Pop Goes the Weasel. Then the second boxes started playing the song, then the next. It became a warped cacophony that sent goosebumps over Paul’s skin.

Paul asked, “What happens when these boxes open?”

In that instant, the box to his right popped open, revealing a gigantic toy clown with claws ripping through its gloves and a melted face with a goopy red nose. Then the one behind them popped open and it was a teddy bear with frightening bloody teeth and beady eyes. The boys screamed and took off down the hall.

Box after box sprang to life with the most terrifying toys as they ran past. The hall ended in a spinning tube, something Paul had walked through dozens of times at the state fair, but this one was moving too fast.

“We’re going to have to try,” said Paul.

Steve sighed hard, wiping the sweat from his reddened cheeks. “As long as it gets us out of here.”

The last box opened. It was the clown that had taken Paul down the slide. It lunged for Doug, knocking the weapon out of his hands and grabbing him by the hair. It smiled and licked its lips at Paul and Steve as Doug struggled. Then it lowered its jaws over Doug’s face, intent on taking the biggest bite it could. Its teeth scraped his cheek, creating thin lines of leaking blood.

Paul’s first thought was to go for the table leg but Steve beat him to it.

“I hate clowns!” he yelled as he raised the club.

The clown snarled at him but would not drop Doug. Steve swung, hitting it in the head, the neck the shoulders; anywhere he could target. He attacked like a crazed man, battering the clown as tears and snot rolled down his face. When the clown finally let go, it dropped back into its box to get away from Steve. The boys shut the lid and Steve broke the crank. The clown banged on the box lid but it wouldn’t open.

“He’s trapped,” said Paul.

Doug nodded. “For now. Good job, Steve. Thanks.”

“Don’t call me – wait. You called me Steve,” he said with a bit of awe in his voice.

“Well,” Doug shrugged uncomfortably, “you saved me. And that is your name.”

Steve dropped the heavy club and rushed Doug, folding him into the tightest hug he could muster. And, Doug being Doug, he promptly pushed Steve away. Paul stood there looking on and laughing.

“Okay, okay. Enough.” Doug brushed his hair back and righted his jacket. Blood was still seeping from his cuts but it made him look tough. Like an action hero, thought Paul. “It’s not like I asked you to marry me or anything. Now let’s go and find the other stooge before they cook him over a spit.”

 

 

 

 

They raced through the spinning tunnel, stumbling and face planting quite a bit before making it out, and found themselves in a wide cavern. Lit by torches, this room looked like a natural cave. Paul and the guys gave a sigh of relief when all that was in the cave was a large old steam train.

“It looks like the circus’s train,” said Steve as he pointed to a long boxcar with UNDERGROUND CIRCUS painted neatly on its side. “And look there, there’s a way out on the other side.”

“Wow, Steve. When did you turn into a playmaker?” Paul was impressed that his friend was actually taking this seriously. Sometimes Steve had the tendency to joke his way around serious issues because he was uncomfortable with confrontation, but not today. Today, Steve was the man.

“I want out of here,” Steve replied. “And I don’t ever want to see another clown as long as I live.”

“That might be difficult,” whispered Doug.

Paul followed Doug’s gaze to find Pepperwell coming in from the other side. “Why does it always have to be him?” Paul asked through gritted teeth. “How are we going to get around that behemoth?”

“Let us out of here!”

All the boys recognized that voice as Wade. He was here. They had found him. But where were they keeping him?

Pepperwell didn’t say anything to Wade. In fact, he acted like he hadn’t heard anyone cry out at all. He slowly made his way to one of the train cars. It rocked as his hulking body pulled itself up and into it.

Paul raised his finger to his dry lips and waved for the guys to follow him. The cavern was quiet except for the sputtering of the torch flames. There was a whimper or two, someone crying. Paul supposed that was Wade. He was big enough to admit that he would have been crying too if he had been kidnapped by clowns.

They tiptoed their way to the train and crouched down to crawl alongside it. Paul was afraid that even their breathing might alert Pepperwell to their presence but they didn’t have any choice.

When they crawled to the car that Pepperwell was in, Paul stopped. He could hear him moving around in there, muttering something to himself. Before Paul knew what he was doing, he had stood and was peeking in through the open doorway. Pepperwell was just standing there staring at a wall covered in news clippings. Paul was too far to read them properly but he could tell that they were missing people ads. Big pictures, mostly of boys, and Pepperwell was looking at every one of them closely, as if remembering them. And he had something new to pin on the wall. A little green hat.

Paul mouthed the name, “Peter Pan.” His heart raced and he shook with fury. This clown hadn’t taken Peter Pan and her mom out of the show – he had taken them down to his dungeon.

Paul moved past his car with a new determination. They weren’t just going to get Wade; they were going to free as many people as they could.