​The cool autumn breeze carried a bite that stole Jenna's breath and sent shivers up her spine. The warmth spewing from the open gates of the odd carnival left the nineteen-year-old in a trance. Songs and laughter pierced through the night. Lights bounced off the trees, and the smell of cotton candy, funnel cakes, and other unhealthy foods attacked her senses.

​

The jaunting music echoed in her mind and stirred up the nightmares that refused to let her sleep for the past week. The rides, the screams, the laughter that was too loud to be authentic reverberated through the corners of her thoughts and froze her feet to the forest floor. 

 

Like the others, the music pulled her here, but she wasn’t filled with excitement or wonder. Peering past the green metal gate with its leafy design and into the carnival grounds set her heart racing. Jenna took a deep breath; she wasn't going to back down. Not now. 

 

As soon as she passed the gates, the warmth of the air nibbled at her doubt. Roses bloomed on her cheeks. Breathing in the sweet air was like accepting new life into her lungs. Joy replaced the doubt that plagued her. Jenna didn’t like the giddiness that bubbled up inside her. It was foreign and unnatural.

 

Small coasters mixed with big ones rattled and swayed all around her. The thrill machines were well used despite the new paint job. They wobbled and clicked, hissed, and droned. Jenna’s nerves danced on the edge of a knife. 

 

The carousel caught her eye with its horses, dragons, and unicorns that stood among stationary benches. The brightly painted metal and its song called out into the night sky, beckoning all those who were near. 

 

"Step right up!" The announcer called, opening the gate for those waiting in line. 

Jenna's footfalls echoed on the metal contraption as she walked amongst the steeds. They all wished for her to pick them up, wanting nothing more than a rider to carry off into an unknown world. 

 

She stopped beside the green sea dragon. Its bright face and calm smile told her that he was the one who would bring her home without a scratch. She climbed up on its wavy body with stripes of blue and gold; its wild mane, like the ocean waves, crashed white against the green scales of its neck. The golden pole kept the beast from flying free. 

Lights hummed, and music poured from the speakers, popping sporadically with static. The center and ceiling, filled with mirrors, were painted over with designs of clouds and sunshine. The sea dragon lurched forward before falling into a steady rhythm. 

 

The constant up and down brought giggles bursting out of her grin. Jenna held onto the pole as the dragon flew through the cloud-painted reflections. 

 

Standing in the blur of the crowd was the face of someone she knew. Jenna leaned closer, but he was gone before she could catch a proper glance. There was something about the shape of his face, how he stood, and the brown hair. Her heart raced in her chest. 

 

The dragon took another lap around. Jenna gripped the pole tight, her knuckles white against its golden sheen. 

 

The boy's bright blue eyes locked with hers of the same color. Recognition filled his sharp features that mirrored her own; his jaw hung open amid a word he couldn't choke out. He froze to his spot despite the warmth of the carnival. Jenna couldn't figure out why he looked at her with such concern. 

 

Ice pierced her heart. 

​

The air grew heavy and hard to breathe. 

​

The joy she had just discovered was stolen from her like a thief in the night. She sat up as straight as she could and pressed her face to the cool metal of the pole, stretching herself to see the boy in the crowd as he flew past again. 

 

He held up both of his hands, and he shook his head. His eyes filled with terror that struck her to her core. Why was he so scared?

 

The ride ground to a halt and thrusted Jenna backward. The sea dragon's chipped paint flew off at the sudden directional change—the splintered wood bit into her legs. Rust climbed up the pole she held onto like her life depended on it. With each blink of her eyes, it would go back to the bright colors. It was as if death and life were fighting over the carousel, and no one knew the victor. 

 

They had been running. 

 

Her skull cried out in pain as memories burst through a closed box tucked into the far recesses of her mind. Why had they been running?

 

"Go! Climb!"

 

The laughter of the children melted into screams.

 

"It's too high. I won't make it."

 

The picture wasn't clear, and the voices were far away. It was as if the memory were communicating with her through two cups connected by a string. 

 

"Here!"

 

The boy cupped his hands and bent down for her to stand on. The height of the gate kept growing; the leaf-shaped handholds would pull away at the last second. 

 

"Up and over, Jenna."

 

"What about you?" 

 

The carousel stopped, and dust sprinkled down from the ceiling. 

 

"It's snowing!" Called one of the kids, who held their tongue out to catch the particles.

 

"Exit to your right, please!" Called a deep, vibrating voice. It was different from the announcer before and sounded as if it were underwater and far away. 

 

Her nerves transformed into blow torches that welded Jenna's feet to the carousel. The announcer's bulbous head bobbed up and down in response to the children who didn't see the sharp teeth in his unnaturally wide, saliva-filled smile. His large nose overpowered his tiny, beady eyes. She would have thought his body was missing had it not been for the two long, spider-like arms that poked through his gray, scraggly beard. 

 

"You alright, dearie?" he asked her.  

 

Jenna nodded. "Yeah, t—too much candy, you know?" She held her stomach for emphasis and let out a nervous chuckle. 

 

"Why don't you come with me? I can get you something for that stomachache."

Jenna shook her head and rushed further into the crowd. The announcer started to follow but stopped, mumbling something into an odd gadget in his hand.

 

She ran until she spotted the boy. His blue eyes pierced through her thin skin and sent shivers up her spine. He ducked into the mirror maze without glancing back to see if she was following. 

 

With every second, a faded memory seeped from an old box covered in dust that lay forgotten in her mind. It played on a jumpy projector behind her eyes. They had known each other; Sprinkled throughout her life was his essence. Jenna raced into the maze.

A sea of glass sparkled in the low light of the attraction. It went on for thousands of miles without signs of stopping. Now and then, the boy's reflection would appear and vanish like a ghost playing hide and seek. 

 

Her breath escaped her lips in white puffs. The multiples of her responded in kind. Their eyes were wide with fear, the hair on their arms stood on end, and they shook like a leaf in the wind.

 

"What are you doing here? I told you last time not to come back," a disembodied voice echoed through the glass. 

 

"This is my first time here." The words were out of her mouth before she considered them a lie. 

 

"Is it? So, you don't remember the screams? The soul-sucking monsters?" — his voice trailed off — "Me?"

 

"Who are you?"

 

"You might not remember me, but I remember you, Jenna." His reflection reached out and touched her. "This is the only safe place to talk, but we must be fast. They dislike mirrors; it reminds them of their hideousness."

 

"Who?"

 

"The monsters outside. We used to come here every three years. It was a tradition. When we heard the music, we knew, we remembered. Jenna, you must get out of here before dawn."

 

"Why?”

 

"Follow me."

 

"No." Jenna pulled her hand away from the boy. He didn't struggle like she had thought he would. "I am not leaving until you tell me what is happening."

 

"This place is evil, Jenna. You have to get out. You must remember," — he glanced behind him— "You have to stop them from getting more kids."

 

"What is your name?" She couldn't wrap her head around his words. 

 

"Daniel. Please, follow me."

 

"Are you leaving with me?" She didn't understand why she wanted him to be with her, but she did. The feelings that surrounded Daniel weren't foreign but forgotten. They swirled behind a curtain she couldn't see through. 

 

"I can't come with you. I am bound to this carnival. They want us both. The two kids who remembered every time they stepped through the gate. We are a danger to them on the outside, Jenna. If we can remember inside, then we can remember outside. You just have to find a way."

 

"I don't understand."

 

He took her hand and smiled. "I know it is hard for you to trust Jenna, but please, trust me."

 

Her head nodded before her mind could devise a reason not to follow. 

 

Daniel navigated through the mirror maze with ease. It was as if he had remembered the patterns, the twists, and the turns. He stopped and knelt, opening a grate in the middle of the maze. 

 

Fear turned Jenna's legs to jelly. She pulled back from Daniel and shook her head. "I don't want to go down there."

 

"I know it is scary, but please, we are running out of time. This is the only way."

 

She crossed her arms over her chest. "How do I know you?" The pain in his eyes pierced her soul. His hurt caused her stomach to churn and anger to boil to the surface. "Why do I care about you?"

 

Jenna rubbed her temples. She knew she cared for him. It was as clear as her distaste for fish or how she knew blue was her favorite color, the same color as his eyes; it had always been her favorite. It was an instinct that Jenna fought against. She wanted to go with him, to trust him without a doubt, but she couldn't. 

 

His words came out in jumbled nonsense. Daniel scrunched up his nose and rolled his eyes. "I can't tell you because the carnival won't let me. You have to remember on your own. I know it gets harder every year to remember. Adults don’t believe in the magic, so it doesn’t affect them. That is why the eldest kid here is sixteen, except for you. They pushed for you, hoping you would come."

 

Jenna balled her fists and clenched her teeth. "Fine. I will figure it out myself."

She turned away from him and ran. The maze swallowed her whole. She ran until his reflection was no longer in view. 

 

Jenna slid to a stop, unable to pull her eyes away from the sight inches from her freedom. 

 

The legs of a small child kicked in all directions, begging the monster to put him down. He cried and screamed. No one passing noticed the long, spindly arms holding the child above a large mouth full of teeth. Acid bubbled over its lips and sizzled off its skin. It bit down around the child's stomach, piercing the flesh with a sickening squelch. The child's screams of terror and pain were cut short. 

 

Jenna turned to run and ran straight into Daniel. He grabbed her hand and shushed her before pulling her back into the safety of a thousand mirrors, where the only things that roamed were the versions of herself that she would rather not see. 

 

They ended up back at the grate. Jenna stared at it like the last lifeline in a sea of misdirection. "Is that what happened each time we were here?"

 

"Yes," Daniel said. "We don't have much time, Jenna…" 

 

Jenna pulled the grate off the floor and jumped down without saying anything. Her ankle

twisted to the side, and she smacked against the moist ground. Recoiling, Jenna hissed as sharp needles clawed their way up her leg. 

 

"Jenna!" Daniel was there in an instant; fear danced behind his eyes. He helped her to her feet. "There was a ladder, you know?" Daniel chuckled, and his smile lit up his face for a split second. “Come on, monkey.” He headed down the tunnel.

 

It was stale and wreaked of bad breath. The walls were slimy and caked in a gray mush. Jenna didn't know what it was and was too afraid to find out. Flesh-like pipes snaked over the ceiling and pulsated with a life of its own. 

 

The room beyond the never-ending tunnel glowed with a faint blue light. Entering the room, Daniel nodded to the orb that thrummed in time to Jenna’s heartbeat.

 

"That is the heart of the carnival," he said. "That is where they store the souls of the kids."

 

"Why not destroy it?"

 

"I tried, but nothing I do makes a dent. Come on, we don't have much time." He gestured to his hands.

 

Blue veins wrapped around tendons and bones like rivers carving down a mountain. The floor peered up just beyond the meat that encompassed his fingertips. 

 

"You're disappearing?"

 

"It happens every three years. It is like falling asleep. We only wake when the carnival reappears." 

 

"Dan—"

 

"No. Do not mourn what is already rotten.”

 

He pressed on, leading her out of the room. Danila stopped at a ladder that had appeared around a corner. Water dripped from the bottom of the grate. Low, mournful cries echoed through the metal. 

 

“If you get out of here, remember, please remember. Stop the kids from coming next time.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a small lion figurine. Its bright blue eyes and black main were hand-painted over the original color. “To remember me by.”

 

"Don’t worry, brother, I won’t forget you." 

 

Brother?

​

The word fit him like the last piece of a puzzle. Her eyes snapped to his as it all came running back: the late nights talking on rooftops, sneaking out of school during the day, and the carnivals every three years. 

 

"This should lead you to the back half of the carnival. As soon as you are above, they will know. You must run and keep running. Get to the gate. Get out."

 

Chaos erupted above them. Screams of kids filled their ears and stole breath from Jenna's lungs.

 

"What's happening?"

 

"It's almost dawn. The veil is lifted. Go. Don't stop. Don't look back."

Jenna grabbed ahold of the rungs and pulled herself to the top. She pushed the grate open and rolled onto the dirt. 

 

The animated carcasses of long-dead animals hooted and hollered in cages. Their skin peeled and fell in different places. White bones poked through the rotten bits. The low whines and whimpers turned to roars and trumpets, giving away her position. 

 

Jenna jumped to her feet and ran. The warmth that once encompassed the carnival, along with the bright lights and cheery music, was gone. Everything buzzed with a loud electrical hum. It dug into her skull and scrambled her senses. It was as if Death and Decay had taken over the carnival, leaving behind a dust-filled wasteland. Ice sunk through the thin clothing of her PJs. 

 

She raced past the tents, which flapped in the wind. They reached out, offering false hope of hidden spaces. Pale hands with long, sharp talons reached through the gap and grabbed a child who had run across the entrance. The child disappeared into the thick blackness beyond the tattered cloth without a scream.  

 

"Jenna!" The wind sang, carrying her name from the vocal cords of creatures that shouldn't be able to speak. "Jenna, where are you?"

 

Jenna dashed through the fog. The inky blackness in the sky shifted to lighter hues of blue. Her heart drummed against her ribs, begging to be let free. Her lungs gasped for air. They pleaded with her to stop, rest, and catch her breath. Jenna ignored it all.

 

Dark figures raced through the shadows sucking up anyone in their path and throwing them into the black fog that consumed the space behind the figures. Their knife-like nails racked across her legs. She cried out as she jumped through the closing gate. 

 

She landed in the dust. 

​

The meadow was filled with the sounds of nature waking up to greet the morning. Light blues, pinks, and purples dotted the sky above the trees that swayed in the early morning air. Dew clung to the blades of grass, releasing a smell of wet dirt mixed with the cold air. 

 

Jenna turned around. Steam rose from the blades as the air around her started to warm back up. 

 

How… did I get here?

 

She hummed to herself. A circus-like melody caught her hum and turned it into a jovial tune. She went to rub the sore spot on her leg and stopped. Sticking her hand into her pocket, she pulled out a figurine of a lion with a black mane and bright blue eyes. 

 

"Hello," she said, confusion etched into her face. "How did you get there?" Her thoughts scrambled together as her brain pounded against her skull, trying to remind her of something important. She rubbed her temple and breathed in the morning air.

 

“Do you need a name?” With a small smile, she ran a finger over its plastic. Its smooth surface calmed her racing heart. Jenna turned and walked away from the clearing, back towards her house. "How about I call you Daniel?"

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