Welcome fellow viewers! Here at Circus de Sang, we fully enjoy your stay. At least... if you last that long, that is. Please sit down, relax and hope you survive this gloriously gruesome day!
“Blood is really warm,
it's like drinking hot chocolate
but with more screaming.”
― Ryan Mecum, Zombie Haiku: Good Poetry for Your...Brains
A small, warped sound played treacherously as the boy of clown makeup and shadowy clothing cycled around. His face besides his eyes and mouth were covered in white. His eyes were a soulless black as his mouth was dripping with red. His name was Désenivrer, always drinking a bottle of wine. It was sickeningly sweet, according to his wonderful friend Souffrant, who was sitting beside him with a whip of gold and splattered with red. Souffrant was a bit of a smaller man than Dèsenivrer, but was taller than others. His leather jacket gave his friend's Twisted Clown a friendly feel. "Hey brother, what's eating you alive?", was the drunken slur of the clown's voice.
Souffrant looked up at his friend on the unicycle with juggling clubs, then sighed."...I'm bored. That, and I'm starving."
Dèsenivrer laughed and honked his horn. "Same here. I'm sure Little Héritière has something. She saves for you and I after all. Then again... she fucking saves for all our asses. I like her... she's all pretty and shit."
Souffrant laughed darkly, eyes of blue and red swirling."Hey, Héritier and Aveugles already are storming over the little mergirl. You don't need to put your shit in there too, ya know." The clown could only shrug and circle around the grounds in the gloomy tent. A young man with pink and purple glasses, matching his clouded eyes ran out, wearing a thing of flames and shadows.
"Guys, show's out in like ten minutes. Get your damn bodies in here, if you found any." They all laughed and headed back into the maroon tent. A small girl of gold eyes and raven hair splashed in her tub, her fins perking happily as her tail splashed the boy of flame and shadow.
"Aveugles, how are your eyes?", her high and quiet voice called.
"Just fine, Hèritère. I wish I could see what you're wearing. Bet it's pretty."
She smiled, her sharp teeth glinting."It's okay, you silly guppy. It's nothing worth waving about." Laughter, talking and murmuring was heard from the people outside the curtain. "Oh my gills! They're here!"
"Calm down, Missy. Keep your fins on." It was a pompous voice of arrogance and extreme apathy in a man of shark like looks. His fins stood at his ears, mixed together like an unwelcome birthday cake. He held a trident in one hand and a book in the other. His attire was that of a prince's from the 16oo's or so. It was elegantly purple and horrific, some things ripped and covered in blood stains. "Now please put on the crown I found. It's the theme after all" Complying to her friend's wishes, her crown of human bone and weaved veins looked beautiful in her black, long hair. It was not like most tiaras, it touching her forehead with a jewel as it's centerpiece. The others clapped happily, the little fish girl happily humming.
"Thank you so much, Héritier!" She hugged him then vanished to the depths of her tank. Héritier being rather pleased with himself, smirked at Aveugles proudly and straightened his black cape. This was returned with a glare as Aveugles stormed to his place with a lit torch of purple fire. An announcer called through the speakers with a welcoming, dark voice. "Ladies, Gentleman, Boys and Girls." A twisted music box played around the room. "Welcome to Circus de Sang." An applause was sounded with whistles and cheers sounded as the announcer spoke. "First for our gruesome act, we have our wonderful Hèritier and his lovely maiden, Hèritière!" They pair of water people came out, hand in hand. The girl's dress of green and blue flared gently as the wind blew through. The pair made a waltzing position as Hèritier picked her up and swung her around. Her tail flared as it caught onto the tank and had her flip inside. He jumped up, flipping back and diving in with her. Hèritière held him up as her partner opened the book and held out his hand in a commanding motion. A man seated before him floated upward as if he were floating in water. Drowning even. He grasped for air, Hèritier looking through emotionless eyes. Hèritier slowly closed his hand, red dripping from an empty palm. The man started to implode, blood spurting from different areas. Once Hèritier closed his fist, the man turned to nothing but blood, with chunks of flesh and bone. The audience screamed and clapped, laughing as if it were nothing but a show. How they pair loved their ignorant ways. With that, they left as the tank was rolled away. This was only the beginning of a gruesomely fun show.