Page 7 of Carnival

Rose

I t’s chilly outside.

I’m thankful that I decided on the leather jacket; otherwise I would’ve frozen to death.

And unlike what I remembered previously, this place is crowded.

As in, Aria and I waited in line for over forty minutes to buy tickets and have our IDs inspected.

I’m not sure if it’s because of the fucking murders that had taken place here every year, but their price skyrocketed.

We paid a hundred dollars to enter this, and every ride, every meal, or trinket that we buy will be paid for separately. My wallet’s already crying from the weight that will be lifted off it very soon.

The money I get from renting out apartments in the building Noah and Hudson bought for me is being stored aside.

I don’t use it; it’s just compiling into my bank account.

I’m beyond grateful for everything that they’ve been doing for me over the years, but I can’t take any more of their money.

It makes me feel pathetic and like I’m a charity case.

So, unbeknownst to them and Aria, I’ve moved out of the apartment in that building. I rent out a cute, small place, and it’s just perfect. I pay for it with my own money that I get from my big girl job, and although it’s hard balancing university and work at times, it’s worth it.

Aria yanks me by the wrist, and the thoughts vanish from my mind. Instead, I focus on what’s in front of me, and I don’t know where to look first.

There are food stands and too many alcoholic drinks, and I think they’re serving food filled with alcohol.

Everything’s decorated as you’d expect it to be for Halloween week — many carved-out pumpkins that have scary faces and employees walking around in costumes, scaring everyone they see.

Some are ghosts; others are dressed up like characters from horror movies.

Even the music around us is eerie, creepy, and enough to send a jolt of shivers down my spine.

“Where to first?” I ask, and Aria stops walking.

Her eyes skim all around us, trying her best not to get pushed by the incoming crowd.

She pulls me aside and tries to figure out where to go next.

The terror houses are located deeper into the carnival; the part near the entrance is mainly other entertainment.

There are plenty of rollercoasters and scrambles.

The sight of a massive one provokes a heart flip from me, but Aria shoots it down before I can even think of riding it.

“No,’’ she states, firmly. “We’re here on official business, Rose. No rides for you tonight.’’

“Oh, come on!” I whine. “Just one ride, please!”

She rolls her eyes. “Alright, fine, you’ll ride the scrambler once we finish our business here, happy?”

I nod enthusiastically, and Aria snorts, rolling her eyes.

“Now,’’ she finally releases my wrists and looks behind me. “You go over there and buy us some drinks. I’ll go and ask that hot fella if he knows which terror house is the one with the most recent murder.’’

“Splitting up seems like the beginning of every horror movie, Aria,’’ I point out. “How about we both go?”

“No offense, but you’re the least manipulative person I know. You’re a little spitfire, sure, but manipulative? No. Just go and grab a bite; you’ll need it before you go on that ride.’’

She doesn’t give me the time to respond and stalks off in the direction of the ‘handsome fella’, who happens to be a man dressed up as Jason Voorhees.

I wince as the movie’s premise flashes through my mind before deciding to grab a snack.

Too many options, and as I take a step forward, my mouth waters and stomach grumbles.

From candies and corn to more concrete food such as meat, sandwiches, and even pasta at some places.

My eyes dart all around, contemplating what to eat and what to drink first. My appetite can be quite big, so I’m not scared about missing out — I’ll try a little bit of everything.

I’m about to approach a stand, but my feet freeze in place.

A wave of deeply rooted chills roams all over my body, all the smallest hairs on my body standing up and my throat suddenly going dry.

My hands tremble next to my body, and I try to move, yet my legs won’t listen.

I stay glued to the spot, people freely walking around me, and screams of those being scared filling my ears.

I swallow a thick knot that forms in my throat and force my head to turn over my shoulder and take a peek. I thought I’d spot someone staring at me — James, in particular. But that’s not what I’m seeing.

Instead, it’s a small tent.

It’s in a deep shade of purple, small, barely able to fit two people, and with sparkly decorations all over. The opening is wide, but it’s dark, hidden with a curtain, and I can’t make out anything on the inside.

My eyes flicker to the small sign next to the tent.

Tarot reading.

A small frown is etched on my face, and with newly found force, I turn around and walk toward the tent. With a shaky hand, I pull the dark curtain to the side and step inside.

I almost screamed.

The walls of the tent are covered in blood, trickling down on the ground.

Given that it doesn’t reek, I’ll give it the benefit of the doubt and hope it’s fake blood.

All around are creepy, porcelain dolls with either an eye missing, their heads separated from their bodies, or the most bone-chilling smiles I’ve ever seen.

The entire place gives me the creeps, and I start regretting ever walking inside.

In the middle of the small tent is a woman sitting on a deep purple cushion.

She looks old, probably in her late sixties.

Her hair is long, falling down to her waist, and in the purest shade of white I’ve ever seen.

Her knees are tucked beneath her, a cat with the same fur color as her hair resting on her lap.

Her eyes are closed, and for a moment, I’m unsure if it’s a doll or a person.

“Uh, excuse me?” I take another step forward.

The woman’s eyes snap open, and I think I’m about to throw up. They’re entirely white. No irises, no nothing but pure whiteness in her eye sockets, staring right back at me. Breath hitches in my throat, and I take a moment to compose myself, swallowing the uneasiness.

Such cool contact lenses.

“Ah, my child,’’ she says, voice soft, yet with a certain rasp to it. “Would you like a reading?”

I’m reluctant but also curious. I nod briefly and take a seat across from her. Between us is a small glass table that is big enough to fit only a deck of cards. They’re on the side, and the lady reaches for them, starting to shuffle.

“Tell me,’’ she starts, still working through the cards. “Are you enjoying the carnival?”

I blink, thrown off by the mundane question. “I’ve just arrived. But I’m sure I’ll have a good time.’’

“We’ll see about that.’’

Why the fuck does that sound like a threat?

I try to shake off the dread that’s slowly filling me up and focus on the shuffling of cards. She splits the deck in two and pulls the top two cards of each deck, putting them down. I’m not sure if this is how a tarot reading is done; I’ve never had one, but it looks intriguing.

“Pick a card, child.’’

My eyes dart between each one, and my finger gently reaches for the card on the far left, tapping it twice.

She doesn’t waste a second and flips the card over. I’m staring at it, blankly, because, quite frankly, I don’t know what I’m looking at, and I have no idea what it means.

“Two of Swords,’’ she hums. “Reversed.’’

“And what does that mean?”

“It means that you, my child, are in a state of confusion, aren’t you? There are choices in front of you, and you’re uncertain which path to take. You’re likely scared of the unknown and what it might bring, but you’re also not certain about taking the path you consider to be the right one.’’

Breath hitches in my throat, and I try to reason with her words. I shouldn’t be surprised that she nailed it, but the shock is still evident on my face. That’s how this whole ordeal is making me feel — uncertain and doubtful of myself.

The answers I’m seeking are either to doom me or give me closure, and although I know that I should urge Aria to find out more about what happened to my parents and grandparents, the fear of what she might discover is holding me back.

I don’t get to respond to her, and she flips the second card.

“The wheel of fortune,’’ she muses, but there’s not a single trace of amusement on her face.

Her bare eyes are making it nearly impossible to hold solid eye contact, the shivers continuously running down my body.

“Inevitable fate,’’ her eyes flicker between the card and my face.

“You’re bound to someone — a man — by fate.

You can run, but you cannot hide nor escape him. ’’

My body goes rigid at the words, and I hear ringing noises in my ears. For a moment, I’m somewhere else completely, because the first and only person that pops into my head when I hear the words is James.

What does she mean when she says I can’t escape him? What sort of sick, twisted fate would tie me together with a murderer?

“Does… does that mean he’s my soulmate?” I ask, voice barely above a whisper.

A deep, rumbling chuckle comes from her, and the cat on her lap purrs, snuggling further into the lady’s lap. Her free hand strokes the back of the cat’s head, looking at me, straight into my eyes.

“My dear, you two have been connected by the stars. You’ll remember soon enough.’’

A small frown appears on my face. Remember what?

If she means the night when James took my virginity, there’s not much to remember.

Yes, I was drunk, but I remember most of the night.

In fact, the only thing I don’t remember is leaving the terror house, but given that I woke up next to Aria, I’d say that she brought me back to the place we were staying.

Her fingers drum over the third card, and she seems reluctant to flip it over.

“The world, reversed.’’

“And that means what, exactly?”

“Incompleteness, or no closure,’’ the lady explains.

“In your case, I can see that the answers you seek won’t satisfy you.

You’ll be thrown off balance, and the need to find closure will consume you.

However, you will not find the answers that you’re desperately seeking.

Because you will not be prepared for the ache they will bring. ’’

My eyes fall on the last card. “And this one?”

She turns it over. “The king of swords, reversed,’’ she chuckles. “You don’t strike me as the manipulative type, my dear. And it’s not about you.’’

I lift a brow, trying to ignore the chilling sensations spreading through my entire body, my bones feeling cold. “Then?”

“He will use every manipulative tactic to keep you by his side. And you’ll fall for each and every single one, my dear. You ought to be careful.’’

My mind is a wild storm of thoughts, my emotions at an all-time high. I’m unsure what to make of all of this — and I’m not someone who believes in tarot reading. Yet, with each word she’s spoken this entire time, my mind is less and less clear.

As if she’s successfully forced her way into my head, causing uncertainty and doubt to rear their ugly heads to the surface.

If it’s about James, then I’m fucked. The man seems to be the manipulative type, and if he’s good, I’ll need to be extra careful around him.

All in me is telling me that he’ll reappear and that it will cause more conflict between my mind and heart.

I shake off the thoughts. “Uh, how much?” I ask, pulling out my wallet.

The lady shakes her head. “No need to pay me, my dear. You’ll pay the price soon enough.’’

Again, why the fuck does it sound like a threat?

“Now, off you go.’’

I stand up, feeling more confused than before I entered the tent. I glance at her one last time, then head toward the exit; however, her voice stops me, and I don’t dare to look at her. The tone in her voice is low, and it’s almost like a warning.

“Keep your eyes and ears open, my dear; he’s near — he’s everywhere.’’

I exit the tent with a run.

I don’t stop running until I’m a bit further away from it, then stop, allowing the cold air to hit my face and bring me down from the sudden high I’ve been feeling. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes for a few moments.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Aria’s voice causes me to open my eyes. She reaches me and narrows her eyes at me. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“I was just…’’ I pause, breathing out. “Getting a tarot reading.’’

“Without me?” She frowns. “Where?”

I point with my thumb behind me to the tent, carefully looking at her. Aria’s eyes dart between the spot I’m pointing at and my face, a brow lifted.

“There’s nothing there, Rose.’’

I whip my head around immediately, my heart sinking to my feet. The spot where the tent was is now completely empty, with a small bench and two people sitting on it. I start looking around, thinking I might’ve pointed to the wrong spot, but there isn’t a single trace of the tent.

What the fuck just happened?