The Carnival

[Ander]

The first automatic response of Ander’s body was to take a deep, delicious breath as his eyes sharply snapped open. The next was for it to contort in a cruelly delayed reaction of pain. He lay on his back, in the dirt… somewhere… the thief groggily flipped over onto his side, churning his legs sluggishly. He managed to get a palm to the ground, and pushed himself up into an awkward reclining position. His other hand followed to support, and he looked around as he rose unsteadily to his feet. Bright, flashing lights filled his line of vision, and corny carnie music flooded his ears. Smells of sticky sugar and greasy fried foods wafted into his nostrils, disgusting him; he hated junk food. Didn’t these people know not to put garbage into their bodies? From his vantage point, he saw a large building to his left that greatly resembled a hotel, and to his right, a slew of rides operating without passengers. Farther beyond the rides, he faintly distinguished the beginnings of a water park. He quickly resolved to stay away from there. Not only would the water likely be cold — he hated the cold — but he wasn’t a good swimmer. Sure, he had managed to keep himself afloat when he fell into the cabana pool that one time, but that was only for a few seconds and the edge was right within his reach. The Anati breakballers didn’t hate the Water Field for nothing…

What the hell… is this…? he wondered warily. Why am I here?

A swell of panic filled his stomach as the word ‘kidnapped’ sprung horrifyingly to the forefront of his mind.

No… no… not again… not again… the thief’s mind raced as he fought to swallow the lump choking up in his throat. He frantically grabbed his wrists one by one, as if to assure himself that no shackles bound them. The scared little boy from that dark prison cell was dangerously close to emerging…

And then, it was as if he remembered he stood in a public setting. His eyes darted this way and that, scanning to see if anybody noticed him. The theme park, or carnival, or whatever it was, seemed relatively empty, striking the thief as odd; weren’t there usually more people at these things? Ander inhaled and exhaled heavily, calming himself down. It wouldn’t be good if anyone saw him freaking out, especially since he was as of yet uncertain to his exact predicament.

Ander placed a hand on his hip, resuming the cool façade he so comfortably hid behind. Somehow, the situation seemed ironically similar to what Sage had related to him back at the restaurant, about how she’d been kidnapped to participate in those things called Friend or Foe and Dante’s Abyss…

Sage!

He swiveled around in a 360-degree motion, finding no trace of his blue-haired companion. Did the robot get her too, or was she still lying in a ditch on the side of the freeway? The dune dweller clenched his jaw tightly; if anything happened to her, it would be his fault for putting her in that situation to begin with. He’d only known her for a few days, but he didn’t take well to the thought of having somebody else’s coffin resting on his conscience. The thief sighed, no point in thinking about it now. Wherever he was, he had no way of finding out the poor girl’s fate, and highly doubted he would find any means to do something about it anyway. Best to analyze his current situation and see what he could make of it.

Ander turned around, seeing a gate barring him from exiting. Beyond the gate, however, he oddly couldn’t see a whole lot. It was as if somebody took a universal lens and adjusted the world outside the theme park so it looked out of focus. He stepped up to the green metal bars, and, not expecting much, gave them a tug. Nothing. He let the ki flow through his fingertips to try and manipulate them with his binding; again, nothing. With little option left to him, Ander resigned himself to wander the carnival. The thief spun around again, and emitted a small cry of surprise as he met face-to-face with a slender, beautiful brunette.

“Whoa! Lady, don’t sneak up on me like that,” Ander breathed, his nerves settling once again.

“I’m sorry, did I scare you?” she asked sweetly.

“No,” Ander replied, a little too quickly, his mind smoothly generating an excuse. “But you see, I’ve got lightning quick reflexes, and I might have hurt you before I knew who you were, so, I’m only thinking of your welfare here.”

Truth be told, it bothered him how easily she had gotten close to him, without him even knowing. That almost never happened. A thief’s survival relied contingently on his ability to move about unseen and detect impending danger.

“Well thank you for your consideration sir,” she giggled. “My name is Mixie. I noticed you were trying to leave the park.”

“Yeah,” the thief said, jerking his thumb towards the gate. “I think there was a mistake or something. I really don’t want to be here, so if you could just unlock this thing, I’d really appreciate it. I have somewhere to be.”

“Oh I’m afraid that’s not possible, sir,” Mixie said with a smile. “The carnival isn’t over yet. All of our guests are free to leave when the carnival is over.”

“But I don’t want to be in the carnival,” Ander reiterated.

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, a gesture he did not miss. “I understand, but enjoy yourself while you’re here. There are rides and games and all sorts of fun things to do! You might even see a friend or two.”

I don’t have any friends.

“Thanks,” Ander said warily. His eyes followed the movement of her arm as she withdrew it. “Mixie, is it? And you are… some kind of… employee of the park perhaps?”

“Yes,” the brunette confirmed happily. “I will be more than happy to guide and assist you throughout the duration of Kill Town.”

“Uh-huh,” he mused. Because that name doesn’t sound threatening at all. “So, if perchance I was to need your assistance, how might I get a hold of you?”

“All you have to do is call my name, and I’ll be there just like that,” Mixie explained with a snap of her fingers.

“Okay, well, I think I will just have myself a look around then,” Ander smiled. He waited for her to walk away, his sense of caution refusing to let him turn his back first.

“See you around, Ander,” Mixie winked, somewhat suggestively, and then she turned and sauntered off.

He couldn’t help but watch her as she went, his eyes straying to the pleasant curves of her skin-tight, navy blue leather suit. Oldest trick in the book, he knew; attracting flies with honey and whatnot. Ander should know; he used it himself. The thief would be damned to see it get played against him. Still, the situation didn’t feel right. For one thing, she knew his name, without ever possessing a reason why she should, and that struck a strong chord of inner uneasiness.

Ander waited until he lost sight of Mixie before moving about to explore the park. Come to think of it, he’d only ever been to one of these types of things once, and that was to develop his crafting of pickpocketing under the tutelage of Judas. Although he doubted he’d ever feel comfortable enough to relax in such an atmosphere, he could try to have a little fun at least. After all, he was still a relatively young man, and slightly immature at times. You only got to be young once.

He strolled along the empty pathways, amazed at the lack of populace. He saw workers dutifully manning their posts, but no other customers. The fighter lingered on the possibility of him as its only patron. Somehow, though, that didn’t make a whole lot of sense, and sounded a little narcissistic. Some small part of him hoped he would eventually find Sage. Along his little jaunt, he came across a mirror. Nothing out of the ordinary, but he gave it a double take when he saw that his face was perfectly healed; not a scratch, bruise, or bump in sight, as if his fight with Belle so shortly ago never even happened. His features reflected back at him, smooth and perfectly unmarred, broken only by his meticulously kept soul patch and stubble. This place just got weirder and weirder. He shrugged it off for the moment and strolled past the hotel, eventually stumbling upon a section filled with games, the obviously rigged kind that easily parted fools from their money.

“Step right up, step right up! Knock the bottles down, win a prize! You there! You look like a competent individual! How about you give it a shot, huh? I’ll even let you play the game for free,” a game attendant called over.

Ander waved him off. “No thanks.”

“Oh-ho, a girly man is it? Can’t knock over a few harmless, stationary bottles? That’s probably for the best, son. These games aren’t for the weak,” the game attendant admonished.

The thief stopped dead in his tracks. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, son, I’m sure you’re great at knitting or baking,” the gentleman shrugged.

Ander let out a dry, nonchalant laugh. He cocked his head, sniffed, and strutted over towards the colorfully adorned booth. “I could knock those over with both eyes closed and one arm tied behind my back,” he grinned smugly. I am not weak!

“Well then why don’t you step up and prove it?” the attendant smiled, tossing a faded softball up and down in one hand.

Ander’s smile never faded as his fingers whipped out, grabbing the softball in mid-catch without him so much as breaking eye contact. “All right, I think I will.”

The game attendant stepped back and folded his arms. “Just stay behind the counter, give it your best throw. If you knock all three bottles down, you get one of our fabulous stuffed animals.”

I’ll settle for wiping that smirk off your face… jerk…

The thief, despite his earlier claims, kept both eyes open and his free arm available for the wind-up. He steadied his body, reared his arm back and threw the softball as hard as he could. It sailed right by the stack of metal milk bottles, not even nicking a single one. Before the attendant could make a snarky comment about the poorly aimed toss, Ander coolly reeled on him, gesturing his fingers for a second try. “That was a practice throw. Lemme see another one.”

He stooped over and grabbed another one out of a bucket, tossing it deftly towards the thief. “No worries, son, I’ve got all day.”