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Chapter nine: Control Freaks

Blake Indigo:

Amity Park, Illinois (Timeline 3), 3:31pm Friday, 18th of September, 2011

I’ve never seen so many goths out in board daylight, or maybe I have and I can’t remember. Problem with not even remembering your own name. There wasn’t much to see. A hand grabbed my wrist.

“Tell your future sir?” Asked the black robed woman.

“I’d rather like to know more about my past.” I answered.

“Come. Madame Belladonna will tell you.” She pulled be towards a small booth with a crystal ball atop a small table. “Sit.” I complied and the woman waved her hands over the crystal ball.

“Such frighting images.” Madame Belladonna started. “You were born in blood and ice and fire and rage, taken in my the darkness, born again in light brighter then the sun. You stood in the Blood Wars. I see a woman... this Roxanne.”

“Who is she?” I asked.

“I cannot tell. But in the mist, she is light, fire, passion and fury, like the fairy queen herself. She is the heir, but you are the shadow, darkness only present in light. And you are very far from home, running from...”

In the crystal ball, an image formed of a head... but no face...

The woman screamed and tried to catch her breath. “They are watching you. But they are... No.”

“What?”

“I know who you are looking for. But the power is too deeply rooted. But pure love, blind faith, and primal fear will shatter the barrier.”

“What barrier?”

The woman smiled. “That is for you to find out.” She stood up and pointed to three barrels by the tent. “They are empty, but my lover and I still take them with us. While your here, enjoy the show.” She gave me a ticket and walked off. It was an old ticket, for the show while it was in St. Lewis...

“Hold on.” I saw a poster displayed in the booth, Freakshow and four of his troop when Danny’s voice repeated in my head.

“A large brute of a ghost, a tiny midget, a clocked tattoo girl and a woman with patch over her eye, who was very... flexible.” One. Two. Three...

“St. Lewis, Springfield, Amity Park.” I read out the cross off names of the last three cities the Circus Gothica troupe passed though. It fits. Wait a minute. If Danny’s here... and there’s... But... No... “SAM!”

Running into the big tent, I saw all I needed to. Sam Manson, on a tightrope, with a blindfold around her head. And the grim reaper cutting the rope.

Sam screamed as she fell to the ground.

Under the hood, I couldn’t help but notice there was someone I recognised under there. The feeling was amplified when I saw the glowing red eyes turn to familiar neon green. It was Danny.

Before I could say anything, the kid jumped off the platform, grabbed Sam and and landed on the ground safely. My mind at ease, I went on to notice a crossbow, throwing knives and a chainsaw... someone’s idea for a juggling act I hope.

“Oh Freaks!” I called out. First was the rope. The woman climbing was surprised to see a throwing knife had sliced it in half and fell into a puddle of green sludge. The man, juggling skulls stopped suddenly after losing his balance, and his ball to a high powered crossbow bolt. He fell out of the costume and on to the ground a green well built ghost. The third, a dwarf on stilts did not see the chainsaw coming. He also didn’t notice that it wasn’t going, but there still was a good amount of force in the throw to snap the wooden pole. He tumbled out of the passonia as a green skinned counterpart.

The last participant didn’t even wait for the crossbow bolt, she just jumped out of her body suit and attacked with every tattoo on her exposed body. The crowd cheered as I battered them away with the crossbow. I wasn’t going to fire blindly with it. Who do you take me for?

“Silence. I will not be upstaged by GHOSTS!” The tattoos stopped coming.

“Hit a nerve did I?’ I walked up to the frustrated ringmaster and took the staff from him. “Now this. Watch this. Danny. Tell her how you feel?”

In a moment, the ghost kid whispered a few words in the girl’s ear. It made her blush.

“Knew it. He likes you and this staff controls the undead.” I informed them.

Freakshow snatched the staff from me. “That’s quite right. My family had this power for generations, but all they could think to do was to entertain the masses. I found a more profitable use for these minions.”

“In other words, stealing.” I finished as I pulled off the hood of the Grim Reaper. There was shock though the crowd.

“It’s not like anything can stop them. Walls they phase though. Cops they shot at...”

“You should have stuck with entertaining the masses, and kept away from my friends.” I told him, venom dripping from my words. “This little show would have just passed though without me noticing. Or maybe not. We won’t find out now.”

“I could have let your friend fall to her death...” Freak started.

“You would have. But your losing control.” I looked to the staff. “You said generations. So why now... oh.” I couldn’t help but smile. “So that’s what she meant. I should have seen this before.”

“What?”

“Turning the town hero into your little pet comes with a cost. Turning anything into a pet comes with a cost.” I showed him my hand. It was black where I gripped the staff, but ant part that wasn’t touching the staff was still a pale, nordic colour. “Problem is, I don’t think your target audience will take well to you, making their idol do tricks like a trained dog.”

I was right. Troubled teenagers boo the ringmaster. The tent grew quieter and silent as each one left. With each one gone, the ringmaster’s eye twitched just a little more. I knew Phantom’s reputation with the goth scene. His actions went against the belief of many that ghosts could be nothing more then evil, and that was the ultimate form of rebellion.

I got a facebook alert on my phone. Turns out someone tagged Phantom in ‘Control Freaks.’ Smartphones and social networking. The lifeblood of teenage communications. I’m guessing by midnight, the news would have reached both coasts.

This didn’t solve the current problem, but it’s a start.

“I think that went well.” I said smiling with confidence. That’s bad, me being confident. It was earned, it was there, it was mine. I knew, in my heart and in the back of my head, that I was going to win this. I didn’t care how, I’ll figure it out later. I just knew the outcome. “Now, all that’s left is for you to do is release them, and I’ll let you go with your ill gotten wealth. Minus the staff. Can’t let you keep it.”

Freakshow laughed evilly. Wasn’t a stereotypical bad guy laugh, more of a madman’s laugh mixed with dramatic effect.

“What makes you think I’ll let you leave alive?” He asked.

“The massive protest of parents out there.” I answered, Sam and Tucker exchanging looks... when did Tucker get in? Never mind. Don’t look confused. Look confident. Look the man in the eye and declare outright war. “And the one thing to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

“Get out now because the writing’s on the wall.” With that, I clicked the pen three times, threw it into the centre ring and, with Sam and Tucker, we ran out of the tent like bats out of hell.

“Get...”

BOOM!!!

A rush of air silenced him as we dashed though the exit...

“Samantha!” We stopped when the tall, red headed woman in a disgustingly pink dress stood in our way. I almost laughed at the fact that this woman might have been in a nineteen sixties sitcom. I’ve heard about Pamela Manson. Good points, bad points, mostly about the filly pink dresses... I mean, why not a nice blue or green. A dull orange would be better. Pink. Pink! What is she? Dinner? “Shouldn’t you be in detention?”

“He let them out.” I answered for them. “Sorry. Blake Fenton. I’ve heard so much about you from Sam. That certainly is a disgustingly pink dress. Did you accidentally stain it with your hair dye?”

“My... but...” Pamela stammered.

“Are we late for the protest?” Came another vo... Maddie Fenton?

“I brought the Fenton Riot Gear!” Jack annouched, producing an ecto-blaster and accidentally firing a round off. Thankfully, no humans or any other sentient organism was harmed. Unless placard signs are considered sentient, I defiantly think they’re more valuable and smarter then the total sum of most humans.

“Your parents?” Pamela asked sceptically.

“Don’t hold it against me. I was adopted.” I told her before walking over to Sam.

“We have to go back for Danny.” Sam hissed.

“What’s this ‘we’ stuff?” I asked when we made it out of ear shot. “I’ll go for Danny tomorrow night. You two go home and wait there.”

“But...” Tucker started.

“But nothing.” I told him. “You’ve both done well. But it’s too dangerous to go any further. And I mean it.” I walked away. I couldn’t put them in this position. For one Danny would never forgive me. And, if they got hurt, I’d never forgive myself. I know what I need to do. I just hope it’s enough.

“Jack. Maddie.” I asked ever so sweetly. “Those Fenton Ecto Entrappers...”

Alexandra Victoria:

Amity Park, Illinois (Timeline 3), 6:51pm, Friday, 18th of September, 2011

‘In the wake of parental protest, ringmaster Freakshow declared that he would hold a free performance tonight for parents and concerned authority figures to prove they are harmless entertainment. Meanwhile, police caught a brake in the resent rash of thefts when security camera footage revealed the ghostly culprits. In unrelated news, Police have come under fire after a chase around the Mall parking lot continued into the Mall itself. Astoundingly, there were no causalities, but the culprits got away. And have you seen Mr. Lancer, the out of shape english teacher last seen in the Casper High Detention Room? More at ten.’

I turned off the TV. The news was always so depressing. I’m not in the mood. Not yet. I just need to polish down the metal.

“You’re heading out tonight?” Ryu asked, the gold dragon walking into the room, carrying his favourite pistol.

“Yes. I don’t expect to be back until late tomorrow.” I answered in a matter of fact tone. “Do not concern yourself with me Ryu. If you are needed, I will send a signal. Your best rosewood?”

He placed the pistol on the work bench, along with a spare magazine. “It has served me well. A tribute to your craftsmanship.”

I picked up the machine pistol. I remember making it when Ryu saved my life and became by bodyguard on a permeant basis. Napoleon was a fool to think he could kidnap a british royal on british soil. To think that three well trained vipères fell to a single dragon farm hand.

“I pray to my elders that you need not use it.” Ryu said.

I looked up to him, worry and fear swelling in my heart. “I pray to god that I won’t need to either.”

I assembled the container, placed the weapon in my handbag, with the magazine, and walked out of the warehouse, dread and unease as my only company on my way to Fenton Works.

There was only one thing left to do.