Carnivean Shades's Phantasmic Festival and Hell Bound Horror Show

Foreword: Even though the formal attempts to produce and solicit stories were halted over two decades ago; the desire to create and tell never diminished.  Sometime around Halloween of 2006, I reread the classic "Something Wicked This Ways Comes".  I remember walking out the front door of my house one unseasonally cold and blustery October day.  The wind was pushing fallen leaves past when one landed at my feet.  It was an amazing color of burnt orange.  I remember thinking its wind-driven path resembled a discarded program advertising a mysterious event.  I could not get that image out of my head.  That night after everyone had fallen asleep, I wrote the following.  My attempt to pay homage to one of my all-time favorite books and its author.  Sorry Mr. Bradbury, but it is a work of love.  Except for the corrections to misspelled words;  this is the fable, story, poem, tale as I finished it that night. 


Carnivean Shade's Phantasmic Festival and Hell Bound Horror Show

A brilliant carpet of orange, red and gold falls from autumn's sentinels; painting

the landscape, covering everything in a rich blanket of season.

Drawing a perfect map, a pathway to our town, leading them here, showing them the way to

a place where life lives to be sifted.  Leading them home again.

The harbingers come, wolf-jawed children dusting the skies with their screams, announcing

Carnivean Shade's Festival, with guttural mind slicing cries.

Voices chilling the blood and cutting the air until it bleeds away peace.

In their clawed footsteps follow hellish heralds trumpeting the Festival's approach; black peels 

of music, from hand-carved bone flutes, sing to all the approaching doom.

Hush now, quiet everyone, something from your nightmares this way comes,

hide your eyes, swallow your tears, isn't this what you wanted to hear?

The tents, the freaks, the sideshows, in October the stumbling clowns.

Carnivean Shade's Phantasmic Festival and Hell Bound Horror Show has come to town.

Murderous minstrels painted in fresh blood red colors dance to the devil's tune, 

tossing goodies and prizes to girls and boys terrified of the dark treats.

Wagons of exotic animals follow close behind, things you have not seen in the darkest

of dreams: grotesque mammals, spectral raptors, blood-drinking rakes, fur-bearing

Amphibians with the eyes of men.  Wraiths from another time and space, another horrible place where terror paints the landscape.

Jack-o'-lanterns float along.  Hand-carved mouths snap at trembling fingers reaching to close to feel a nightmare.  Even the dragons have come to this October country dragging banners in their wake with obscene incantations and unholy sigils.  Their dark leathery wings beat a cold wind pushing them along an invisible path leading to us.

Hush now, quiet everyone, something terrifying this way comes,
Swallow your tears, hide in the trees, isn't this what you wanted to see?
The tents, the freaks, the sideshows, in October the cadaverous clowns.
Carnivean Shade's Phantasmic Festival and Hell Bound Horror Show has come to town.

Ghostly minions, with tormented faces, pale with pain--pull the wagons along.  Weirding wagons labeled FEAR, HORROR, DEATH with markings and runes that steal the sanity of anyone who reads them this day.  Diseased dogs run alongside, snapping at bloody feet to herd the wagon pullers on their way.  Wagon wheels crush the skulls that appear as a roadway before them.

Leviathan, Behemoth and Shai'tan bellow their terrible calls.  The screams of a thousand tortured mind return the calls.  Pleading for the death that will release them to hell.  The living soul that hears the horrifying cries of that unholy trinity becomes insane.  Chirping songbirds drop out of trees dead where the shadows of the monsters fall.

Don't scream, quiet everyone.  This way your destiny comes.
Swallow your fears, fall to your knees, isn't this what you needed to see.
The horrors, the pains, the blood-soaked candy canes that make you frown.
Carnivean Shades Phantasmic Festival and Hell Bound Horror Show has come to town.

Then he comes too,  a dark coat and hat, holding a vertebrate cane.
Strolling along in boots made from exotic mangy hide.
Skeletal hands gloved in pale hairless leather.
Behind smoke and mirrored glasses cat eyes watch and glow, his forked tongue licks along the bright ivory fangs as he smiles in triumph.

A barbed-wire leash holds back his pet,  the hound waits to feed on the watchers at the side of the road flexing its blood-soaked claws and hissing anger.  Muscles rippling beneath scales that change in color with every stride.
He tips his hat to reveal his coif of scabrous roiling leeches. Wickedly, he smiles to greet the curious bystanders and begins.
"Come one, come all.  We have what your heart most longs for.  The stuff of wishes and dreams.  Most wondrous if our price you can pay".  He cries a bleak hypnotic pitch to bring the marks along.

Don't cry.  Listen everyone. To your life death has come.
Swallow your hope, cover your ears, run for your life, die with your fears.
The nightmares, the terrors, all this you wish to be a dream.
Carnivean Shade's Phantasmic Festival and Hell Bound Horror Show will make you scream.

In the blink of an eye, the tents are there games, rides, and shows looking for marks.
Fallen Angels, take the tickets at the gateway and lead the carnival goers into the endless dark.
The scales are set to guess the weight of souls, throw a baseball and knock over the stack of shrunken heads.

Win a prize of goodies and gore, terrible teddy bears and oh so much more.  Again he is there, standing by the ticket booth for the one and only ride the festival has to offer.
He snaps bony fingers to gather everyone's attention.
"This is what you have sought, for what you have paid."
He draws back a dimensional curtain revealing the abyss and screams,
"Time to ride the blade! Time to ride the blade!"

Run away, don't look behind, insanity is all that you shall find.
Swallow your fear, cover your heart, your world will soon come apart, 
from pain and terror and suffering and blood and torment and oh so much more
Carnivean Shade's Phantasmic Festival and Hell Bound Horror Show has opened its doors. 

1-1-2020  (Originally written October 2006)

My Friend Lilly

I think momma knows about Lillie; I hope not.  She never likes none of my friends.  I don't think Lillie is her name.  She tells me her name; I try to say it but the best I can do is Lillie.  Sometimes I think she is mad because I can't say her name.
     Momma said I need to have more friends.  I don't know why; I am happy with Lilly being my one and only friend.  Momma doesn't have many good friends.  They're all bad people.  The only person she ever talks to in the building is the old lady next door,  Miss Carol.  Miss Carol smells like cats and she has a runny eye.  There are some mens who come to our apartment, but they don't stay for very long.  Momma takes them to her room for a little while.  They always come at night and smell like beer.  They always come home with Momma, I think she has a place she finds them.  Sometimes they act strange when they see me sitting in the kitchen watching them.  I think it's because they know.  They know I know why they are here.  It is always the same thing; they are here to make Momma cry and call her bad names like bitch and then they leave.  I get mad and want to hurt them,  but Lillie tells me it's all right, just wait and my time will come.  None of them ever come back.  One of them tried to touch me one time.  I ran into the bathroom and locked the door; he tried to get in.  Momma saw him and yelled bad words and he left.  Lillie told me she took care of him, she made him trip and fall down the stairs and he broke his head.  I remember the police came and banged on the door and asked Momma about the man with the broken head, but she said she didn't know him.  Momma says she doesn't want to lie, but she has to cause I don't listen to her and cause bad trouble.  That what she says.
      Lillie is my friend.  I love her.  She says I am special to her, and I help her better than anyone else.  She makes me laugh and we do funny things.  She helps me understand things, like where she comes from.  Lillie comes from the corners.  She says long words to tell me where she is when she is not here.  From the corners.  Her di-di-dimenshun is where the corners meet.  Unless I need her, she is always there.  She showed me how to do things when Momma goes away.  Sometimes Momma leaves for a few days, sometimes she leaves in her head and is gone for a long time.  I tried to light the stove one time cause I was hungry, and I burned my hand.  Lillie showed me how to light the stove by saying a word.  Sometimes I say the word to make other fires.  It's funny when I make Momma's butt on fire.  Lillie showed me how to make foods when I'm hungry.  I get tired of eating cereal and Dot doesn't like to share his food.  Dot doesn't like a lot of things.  He doesn't like Lillie, he hisses and scratches at her.  Mostly he hides when she is here.
      Momma doesn't know about Lillie I hope.  I don't want to tell her, she will try to make her go away.  Lillie is my friend.  Lillie says Momma can't make her go away, but I don't know.  Momma is mean and does a bunch of things I don't like.  But I like it when her head hurts and she goes away for long times.  Me and Lillie do funny things to her.  One time we made Dot, hiss, and scratch at her when she was asleep for a long time and Lillie made her dance like a puppet and one time she made Dot jump on her head.  If I had a camera, I could make funny pictures.
      Lillie thinks Momma know about her, I hope not.  If Momma knows she will try to make her go away and that will be bad.  I love Lillie; I want her to stay.  Lillie says she can make Momma go away if I want her to.   I don't know.  One time she made Dot stop walking, and he just laid on the floor for some days.  I poked him with a straw and then a knife and he never moved until Lillie snapped her fingers and he jumped up fast and hissed and ran away behind the couch.  It was funny.  One day Lillie made his tail fire and he ran around the apartment screeching.  That was funny too.
     Lillie showed me how to make the fire with stuff under the sink.  She said not to tell Momma I know how to do that until its time.  I hope its time soon; it was fun.  Lillie tells me lots of things and says not to tell Momma, she scares me sometimes.  When I look at her the right way, I can see what she is behind her people skin and it is scary.  I think she is a witch behind her people skin.  
     Last night Momma said I need more friends because I am inside so much.  She said that was fine when I was a girl, but now I am a woman and need to do womans things, with mens friends.  I told Lillie what Momma said I need more friends and Lillie got real mad.  She said I shouldn't listen to anyone but her and then some dishes broke and the water in the sink burned.  It scared me she can do things that aren't right.  She makes the air melt sometimes...and that one makes me cry.   I think I might tell Momma she should leave before Lillie hurts her.  Momma will just say I'm stupid and I need some friends.
      That's why I brought you here.  Is your head okay?  You will like Lillie.  Lillie never says I am stupid and she says I am special to her.  She told me where to find you and how to get you without the policemen seeing me.  Lillie teaches me good things too.
      Shh, Momma is waking up now and I don't want her to hear us.  Don't tell Lillie I told you all of this she might make things happen.  Bad things.  When you look at her, don't look with your side eyes, you'll see under her people skin.  Lillie said if Momma wants me to have friends, then I can have you.  We will be friends together and do special things like I do for Lillie.  She said we have to make one more thing to do and then just us three will be friends have special funs.  When Momma goes away in her head again we have to take care of Momma so it can be just us.  Lillie is gonna make her hair and face do fire.  That will be funny.

Glenn Crace
February 2018

A Mind Is A Terrible Thing (Part V)

Sarah called me today.  I didn't want her to, she is always doing things I don't want her to do.  She called and started talking before I could say hello.
      I could see her words as she spoke them; harsh angry colors.  Dark red, burnt orange flowing from the phone and flowing into my eyes.  My hands were shaking, I needed her to be quiet, but I couldn't let go of the phone.  The only connection I had to her.
      She told me she was leaving and would not be back.  She said a lot of things but I could not listen; the words were fighting to get into my eyes.  I couldn't talk,  I tried I tried I tried to listen as long as I could.  She said she was sorry,  things were different now, she was different now.  I didn't want to talk, there were too many other things, but no talking.  So I cut her off.  I can not hear without seeing the words come from her mouth.  The phone changes their frequency.  I see all the words.  Most are dull gray.  Her name Sarah is a color.  Sarah is cerulean.
     "Your name is like a sigh," I said.
     "Wh - what did you say?"
     "Your name is like a sigh," I said again.
     "What does that mean?  Is that an insult?  Because if it is, then your na..."
     "Stop. I don't want to argue.  I just wanted to say something that was real.  Something I had never said before."
      She actually stopped talking and was listening.  I wasn't sure what to say next.  I didn't want to talk anymore.  But she did."
      "Why did you say that?"  She asked.
      "That's how I think of your name when I need...focus.  Your name is like...peace.  It's zen when I say it.  Your name is like a sigh.  Sarah.  Sar ah.  Sar ahhh.  It gives me comfort when I say it."
       "You never said that before.  Why does saying my name make you happy?  Does that mean if my name was Amy or Debbie or Linda or something like that you wouldn't be happy?"
     
        She would shut up.  She hears me but she is not listening.  I can't take this anymore, no matter how much she means to me this has to end.  I don't want to talk and that's all she does.  Talking makes me nervous.  I can't keep up with words and their changes.  It's a problem, my problem, but I only know one way to fix it.  I only fracture when I lose the words.  I can't lose the words, I lose creation.  Everything was created with a word.  Chaos comes from words, order from chaos, order becomes words, words lead to more chaos.  I wanted to shove my fingers into my eyes.  So I picked up my knife and began to sharpen it as I listen to her continue to talk. The shhtck shhtck of the knife against the whetstone drowned out her words.
       "I'm sick, I need help,"  I told her.  The words felt like razors leaving my mouth.  "I don't know who to trust."  I continued to sharpen the knife as I spit out the razor words.  "I want to fix this."  The knife was almost sharp enough.
       "You can trust me, I can help.  You've never asked for help before.  But I will.  I'll help you.  I just need to know we have something, we never talk about this stuff.  I'm coming over."

       She hung up the phone and at last, the talking stopped.  But it's gonna start again as soon as she gets here.  If she would just sit and let me look at her and not talk.  I would do anything she wanted if she would use real words to tell me...anything.  The truth is saying her name really is like a mantra; it stops the fractures.  But I really don't need her.  Just her name.  She is coming over because she thinks I will change.  She will die because I know she never will.
   
Glenn Crace
Cincinnati, OH
January 2020