Discarded Luggage (Part 1)

This is also something I've written through my process of writing "Garbage". However, this story evolved and became something that really interests me. I hope you will like it. It is Part 1 of 3.

James walked from tent to tent, checking off people’s names as he saw them getting ready for the show. He passed the jugglers throwing their bowling pins and small colorful balls.  He passed the bearded lady, trimming her long smooth whiskers. James ticked off all the names of each clown that rode around him poking him, making him spin in dizziness and delight.  He made his way to the caravan parked behind the main, red and blue high top tent, upon reaching it, he knocked on the door.

‘James, is that you?’ came the soft sweet voice of the gorgeous Rozette Marie du Quan, the main attraction.

‘Everything is ready my darling, everything is set for tonight,’ he said opening the door and walking up behind her, ticking her name off his list.

Her smile gleamed at him in the mirror as she applied powder to her cheeks.

‘Ah James, you are such an excellent director, what would we do without you?’ she said seductively in her rough French accent.

He felt warmth in his chest and hardness in his trousers.  She looked at him in the mirror with a sly grin and stood up to face him.

‘Don’t worry dear director; I shall take care of that, after the show,’ she said hinting to the rise in his trousers.

She kissed him softly on the cheek and slid a finger down his chest.

Out of the caravan and making his way to the ticket booth, he noticed a tall man in a full tuxedo with a top hat looking around. Thinking that this might be the new investor, he walked on over to him.

‘Good day sir, may I help you?’ he asked politely

‘Yes please,’ said the slow monotone voice of the man.

To his surprise, the man was void of emotion, his skin had a slight blue tinge, that of a corpse.  James smiled, and asked, ‘What may I help you with sir? And if I may, what may I call you?’

The man looked down at him and his face hadn’t changed at all. ‘I am looking for a place of employment, and you can call me Dennis.’ Said the man, his voice making the hair on James’s neck, stand on end.

‘Well, Dennis, what do you do, er, exactly?’ asked James

‘I make things disappear’ he replied.

‘Oh dear, sorry Dennis, we already have a magician,’ he said frowning sadly, like when a child has dropped his lollipop.

 ‘I am not a magician’ bellowed Dennis loudly, ‘Magicians are frauds, and they hold no magic in them,’ he said again sternly straightening himself awkwardly.

James stepped back, not going to have his employees insulted by this mystery man, he readjusted his clipboard under his arm, stamped his foot and said, ‘Well I’m terribly sorry sir, but we have no positions available at the moment.’

He turned to walk away and get back to the preparations for the show that was about to start within the next hour.

‘James!’ roared Dennis, the sound of his voice reverberating like the echo one hears in a valley. ‘I believe you do have a position available starting tomorrow,’ he said, and with his words a blue lipped smile curled on his face.

James was surprised that his face hadn’t cracked yet.

‘What do you mean a position will be opening up, starting tomorrow?’ he asked back confused, ‘That’s preposterous!’ he babbled.

‘Someone in your circus will die tonight, it will be gruesome and bloody, unless. . .’

Dennis was cut short as the Strong man, Eric, who had been eavesdropping, had put his huge fist through the man’s face. Dennis lay on the floor, motionless, cold.

‘Mister was talking bad, bad talk, he not nice man’ said Eric, his face worried.

Dennis rose from the ground, like a puppet being pulled up by strings, his body swung round to face the now growing crowd of circus employees.  His face was a horror, his jaw snapped down the middle and skew in the cold blue skin caused a few women to vomit, even the bearded lady threw chunks. Then, like a snap of a fire cracker, his jaw was fixed, but his face was even worse, his mouth was smiling, literally from ear to ear.

‘James!  You will dread this day, your bloodline will suffer as you will soon!’ screamed Dennis so loudly that Eric’s ear began to bleed. The maniacal laughter was overwhelming, it sounded like a person being tortured to death.

Bang! Dennis fell with a dull thud as the knife thrower lowered his pistol. ‘Boys, find me a crate or maybe a trunk,’ ordered Blayne

‘Are ya blimmin’ mad? You can’t just go shoot every bloody loonie you see can ya?’ yelled James furiously, all self control leaving him instantly.

‘When your life is threatened, he threatens all of us!’ Blayne snapped back poking James’ chest.

Four midgets came over carrying a large black trunk, with two large latches on the front.

‘Eric, pick ‘im up big guy, put ‘im in, there ya go,’ said the clowns together as Eric picked up the body nervously, like when someone picks up a dirty diaper or your mothers undergarments.

Dennis fitted nicely in the trunk; his lanky body lay like a well bent contortionist.

‘Blayne, you take care of this, I need to get ready,’ said James wiping the sweat from his brow, ‘I can’t deal with this right now,’ he mumbled to himself as he walked away from the bustling crowd.

They had been through this before.

A juggler had come and begged him for a job, on his refusal the juggler threw tantrums and swore to burn the circus down to ashes. He was caught trying to do just that, but Blayne slit his throat and put an end to the sabotage.

 

James reached his tent, tired from all that had happened; he slumped into his chair, sighing in relief with the support that it gave him. He pinched his nose and wiped his eyes, he was tired. He pulled out his pocket watch and got up, only fifteen minutes before the show started. He put his jacket on and grabbed his top hat and cane.

‘Let’s dazzle this crowd,’ he whispered to himself as he strode out of the tent.

The show began with the usual bright lights and loud music, James walked out with a large hand speaker, holding it up to his mouth he bellowed, ‘Welcome ladies and gentlemen, I hope you brought your laughing faces because, here we go!’

Three jugglers rolled out on unicycles, juggling bowling pins, they rode fast and slow, round and around they went, they rode around to form a triangle around James and juggled with each other, the pins flying from one to the next.  The crowd “Oohed!” and “Aahed!” as the jugglers went faster and faster whilst still keeping balance on their unicycles.

Six clowns rolled out on tricycles, making squeaky noises and honking their small hooters. They exclaimed at the jugglers and pulling out their own multi-colored juggling balls they attempted the same.  With their predicted failure the crowd laughed and laughed, the clowns now throwing the balls at each other.

James now distracted by the small fight going on, he walked under the flying pins and tried to pry two clowns apart, with more laughs from the crowd, the clowns swung a bag over his head and upon removal, his face was white with a red nose, the crowd cheered and cheered. James was chasing them away with his top hat. Smiling, oblivious to his current state, he held up the speaker again.

‘Now, ladies and gentlemen,’ squealed the high pitch voice.

‘Oh dear, oh, oh my, oh my,’ said James in confusion, scratching his head.

A clown rolled out with a pink balloon and handed it to him. Honking and squeaking it showed him to breathe in whatever was inside the balloon.

James nodded that he understood and after breathing in its contents he held up the speaker once again.

‘Alright, time to get on with the show,’ said the now low deep voice.

James chased the clown, who was laughing and honking his way off stage, followed by the jugglers, who were still juggling together.

The crowd laughed and cheered, children screaming with excitement, the real show was about to begin.

The show went on quite fast; the strong man contest, where Eric had come out and lifted the heavy dumbbells, and even invited several men from the crowd to test their strength. Nobody could lift them with the ease of Eric the Strong. The dancing elephant that had dazzled the crowd as Elsa, the handler, made it stand high on its hind legs as she stood on its head. The crowd cheered and cheered, the hunger to see more was in the air.

 

Rozette strode out, the crowed hushed and men whistled for her eye. She was beautiful; her white dress was stunning, her red lips shone with glitter. She had a long black whip in her belt; she loosed it and cracked it once, twice, three times more.

The crowd cheered as she bowed to them, and then suddenly, from off stage, something roared loudly. She turned and faced the roar with a tantalizing smile. A great albino tiger walked out, grunting at the crowd. Rozette walked forward and cracker her whip on each side of her; the tiger ran around her and bared his teeth. She smiled and turned to face him again, cracking her whip on either side of her. The tiger lay down, looking only at Rozette. After a crack of the whip, he rolled over, another crack, and then he sat upright like a dog.  Crack!  He was lying down like a kitten again.  Crack!  He was now standing on his hind legs in a sort of dance.  The crowd cheered and applauded loudly.

 

Rozette cracked her whip one more time, the tiger got up and started walking off stage as she bowed to the crowd and blew kisses to the men. She froze; an odd man was watching her intently, his eyes black, his skin blue. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as the man stared at her and mouthed words. She heard her heartbeat in her ears, felt the warm feeling of urine wetting her legs, the man had her gaze locked on him.

The crowd screamed in horror as the tiger leaped at Rozette. Her screams loud and strained, the tiger bit into her throat and ripped out her vocal cords. The blood sprayed out over her dress and the beautiful white fur of the tiger, which was now devouring her, ripping flesh to get to the warm meat inside. The crowd screamed and panic ensued. People running every which way, the banisters were empty in a matter of seconds.

James ran out to see what had happened, to his horror Rozettes head lay on the ground looking at him, her mouth still open from screaming, he fell backward and screamed.

‘Blayne, kill it! Kill the beast!’ yelled the clowns together as Blayne strode out with a rifle.

‘No, it can’t be happening! She can’t be!’ babbled James as he watched the tiger ripping out intestines and innards.

Blood sprayed out as the tiger pulled and ripped.

Bang! The tiger slumped down into Rozettes rib cage as the hole in his head started to bleed.

James lay on the ground, confused and bewildered at how quick the events of the night, that had been prepared and planned for months had turned so sour in the end.

‘Do you have a position open for me now?’ asked the soft monotone voice from behind him.

He yelped as he got up to face this person.

‘You!’ he hissed as he saw his questioner.

It was Dennis, standing tall and lanky, with his top hat sitting crooked on his head.

‘I told you a position will open up for me.  So James, will you have me?’ asked Dennis with a wry smile.

James glared at him with burning hatred in him, ‘You!’ he yelled as he leaped for him viciously. His hands fell through him, like dust. He turned around to face this apparition, but a firm hard hand grabbed his shoulder.

‘James! We need to leave!’ it was Blayne,

‘Sir we need to pack up and leave,’ he said again.

‘But, what about-’

‘She’s dead! If we don’t leave now, we will all get arrested. We didn’t have papers for that tiger, remember?’

James ran out of the tent, rubbing his eyes from tears to face the confusion. He saw something very peculiar in the midst of all the chaos.

In the middle of the campsite, lay a large black trunk, its latches closed. He walked closer to it and noticed some blood flowing down from the closed lid. He tried to scream, but it caught in his throat as the trunk burst open, blood spewing out onto the canvas tents and over the hoola-hoops and juggling pins that lay strewn across the floor. He looked at the trunk; it was full to the brim with blood, still and flowing. He couldn’t look away, his chest felt hot as he felt his fear run down his trousers.

Slowly, a head rose from the blood, her hair dry, her dress dripping red, Rozette rose up like a puppet on strings.

‘James’ said the voice he knew so well, she looked at him through empty eye sockets and smiled through half of the face that hadn’t been clawed by the tiger.

He gasped as her chest cavity moved like a person breathing yet it was empty, minus a few ribs still dangling inside. He heard a scream from nearby as the bearded lady had walked out of the tent to see Rozette still floating and bleeding. She turned to run but, blood red tendrils shot out of the trunk and latched on to her ankles and pulled her towards it, she grabbed for anything to stop her being pulled, she stopped as a large rusted tent peg hit her in the groin, knocking the wind from her. She yelped and to his horror he could see Rozette laughing silently, her face contorting as she turned to face the bearded lady.

‘I never liked you, wench’ she said as the scream from the bearded lady hit the air, the ripping noise was terrifying.

James gagged as the two halves of the bearded lady were pulled into the trunk.

He ran, ran as fast as he could, looking around he saw the bloody tendrils pulling all the tent equipment and food supplies inward towards the trunk. Like a large whirlwind the tendrils sucked in everything, clowns held on to anything they could as they were pulled towards the horror.

He made it to the dirt road outside the main fence. Looking back to see the screaming bodies of the jugglers, trying to claw themselves away from the horror of Rozette and her long reaching tendrils.

The tents collapsed and slid along the ground towards the unchanging box that sucked the circus in. Tent pegs and poles darted at the jugglers, their faces as they got stabbed by the long poles was a horrific sight, their bodies dragging towards the trunk, up the side and in over the rim. James fell to his knees as he gazed at the empty field in front of him.

He looked at the trunk with bloodshot eyes, waiting for it to grab at him.

 

The wind blew softly as flyers wisped in the wind and tumbled to the ground. The red marks of blood scarred the ground around the trunk as the tendrils hissed like cobras ready to strike. Rozette opened her eyes and smiled at James. The tendrils formed stairs for her, her bare feet touching the steps made his heart beat hard in his chest. He felt himself stand, and start to move forward.

‘James, darling, come be with me,’ hissed the voice of the woman he loved.

‘Come, let’s be together forever,’ she said pouting at him.  Her dress dripped blood and left a long red smudge all the way to him. They met, within arm’s reach he stared at her. Her features had grown back, her chest was closed, her face perfect.

‘Rozette, my love, why did you do this?’ he asked tearfully

‘I did not do this, you did,’ she hissed back. ‘You did this to all of us’, her voice becoming demonic.

‘I don’t understand!’ he cried.

‘Time for you to join us, director!’ she screeched as the bloody tendrils stabbed towards him, piercing his shoulders and legs, he screamed and begged for mercy as he was dragged towards the trunk.

Click! The large black leather bound trunk closed, the two latches clinked close as two brass locks formed out of thin air, around the two latched and clicked shut.

Author's Note

Please let me know what you think, all constructive criticism is appreciated. Also let me know if you liked it.

Reviews

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This is good horror Harvey, along the lines of Stephen King meets Wes Craven meets Final Destination. This images were vivid enough that I created the scene in my imagination. I didn't really pay much attention to grammar, sentence structure, coherence and all that, but overall, the story line is tight. I also like that the story leaves us to imagine the origins of the chest, the background of the stranger and what happened to them all once they were inside the discarded luggage. The title also fit the piece perfectly. You never know where a "garbage" piece will lead you. Good job!

[Harvey Bentley]

FT Ledrew, Your words are more than I could have ever hoped for. Sorry for the delay in response, these last several days have been quite eventful. Thank you so much for your kind words, I'm glad that you were able to visualize the story. Its quite scary to write something for the purpose of just writing "garbage" and it blooms into something like this. Thank you again so much. I truly appreciate your review. God bless you.

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You are quite welcome Harvey! Sometimes we get lucky with garbage and so we keep pushing through. Hope your eventful days were positive.

Cheers, FT

[p lawrence]

I don't usually read horror, but the piece certainly held my interest. Nice pace, and lively. I might ease up a little on the gore, and rethink some modifiers, but, all in all, well written and a fun piece. Nice job.

[Harvey Bentley]

P Lawrence, Thank you for your wise words. I have rethought some of the gore and some scenes that could change. I'm very happy that you enjoyed it. Thanks again. God bless you