Page 3

On the back of the face painted strangers motorbike, the roar of the engine vibrates through me as I grip his shoulders, my fingers digging into his leather jacket just slightly. The towering trees on either side of the road swallows us in darkness, but as my eyes scan the deserted woods, a flicker of colour catches my attention.

Bright, flashing lights pulse through the gaps in the trees like a heartbeat. Reds, blues, and white flashing against the night. He swerves left down a narrow road and I lean forward, peeking over his shoulder just as something big comes into view—a carnival.

A monstrous, frightening sign arches over the entrance, its peeling paint barely holding together the lit-up letters. The bulbs around it flicker in irregular bursts, buzzing like dying fireflies.

Welcome to Oddity Carnival it’s his entireaura. I can feel it. Deadly and suffocating, even from this distance.

“This is Hollow Soul,” Harley continues, her hand gesturing to the green-eyed, blonde-haired guy.

“And that’s Hollow Wrath.” She finishes, finally naming the red-eyed man staring straight through me.

Hollow Wrath? That’s his name?

God, these guys have bizarre names.

“They’re performers here at Oddity. Known as The Hollows.”

That explains their names and horrific appearance then.

My eyes lower further, noticing how Wrath’s tatted fingers, adorned with a few silver rings, stretch out with a slight tremble before they clench into tight fists, as if he is holding onto something. Possibly himself.

Strange. Yeah, he’s definitely strange.

Suddenly, Harley is snatching my arm again, dragging me in the other direction, toward the circus.

“Noir, what are you doing?” Hell calls out, and when I look over my shoulder, I notice Wrath has now disappeared, but Hell is following behind us.

“Noir? Who’s Noir?” I ask before glancing at Harley.

“That’s my name here.”

“You work here?”

She smirks slightly before glancing at me.

“Didn’t I ever tell you I was a dancer?”

I vaguely remember, but there’s no chance to respond because I’minsidethe circus before I know it.

The atmosphere feels different in here. The red and white fabric hangs low, draping the area like a smothering veil. The heavy scent ofdampnessseeps into my nostrils, mixing with something else. Something old, something almostrotten beneath the surface.

Harley moves forward quickly as Hell’s heavy boots catch up behind us. She pulls back a curtain, revealing a hidden room within, and we step inside.

As soon as we enter, she releases me, but I barely notice. The air is thick withincense, a smoky, intoxicating smell. Crystals glisten under the dim, flickering candle light, lining cabinets along withstrange, mysterious objects. Things I don’t recognize but somehow feeldrawn to.

“Madame!” Harley yells, but I’m too mesmerized to pay attention.

Just as Hell steps inside from the corner of my eye, I take one forward, completely entranced by thebeautiful, hauntingartifacts surrounding me. My fingers hover over a delicate, antique-looking pendant, its deep red center twinkling against the glow of a nearby candle.

When I see another curtain being sharply pulled back at the far end of room, my gaze slowly pulls away from the pendent and they land on an older women entering.

My hand snatches back before I turn to face her. Black hair, streaked with grey cascades down her front. Her dress is red and gold velvet, making her look like a timeless beauty.

When she sees me, she pauses and her dark eyes settle on mine, studying me with a depth that makes me feel slightly uncomfortable.

It’s not just curiosity I see, it’s recognition. Like she already knows me, and she’s seen every dark corner of my soul. But I don’t recognize her. I would definitely know if I’d seen her before.

“Madame, I’d like to introduce you to my sister. Arabella.” Harley announces and I can feel the tension in the room shift.

Madame raises a single eyebrow, her face unreadable, expression perfectly controlled.

She moves without a sound, gliding around a massive oak desk, only her dress whispering against the floor. She never breaks eye contact, and I force myself to hold my ground, squaring my shoulders as she stops right in front of me.

Her gaze sweeps over my features. Then, just as she lifts a hand, her fingers hovering like she might touch my hair, she abruptly recoils. Her breath catches and her fingers curl into her palm. And for the first time since she entered the room, something flickers across her face.

Something like fear. I’ve seen it enough since the day I was born on thisrotting, fucked-up earth to know when I see it.

“Your sister?” Madame asks, and Noir stands beside her, facing me.

“Yeah, isn’t she beautiful?”

I cringe internally. I feel far from beautiful. So I don’t react to my sister’s compliment. My body is scarred, bruised, and malnourished, a map of every battle I’ve fought just to be standing here.

But my mind? That’s in a broken league of its own. Shattered. Warped. Twisted into something that barely resembles what it used to be. I’ve got serious work to do to rebuild, to regain, and to become before I carry out what I need to do.

Madame begins to circle me, her eyes dragging over every inch of me like she’s dissecting something dangerous, but I just stare forward.

“Look, Madame, I was thinking—” Noir starts, her voice determined, but Madame cuts her off without hesitation.

“No.”

The room stills, the weight of that single word pressing down like a held breath.

“But…” Noir tries again, but Madame doesn’t budge.

“She’s not staying here, Noir.”

“But why? Please, we can—”

“I said no!” Madame’s snaps, final and firm.

My gaze flicks to Noir and she’s staring at Madame, fire in her eyes, jaw clenched tight.

Madame moves around me again, but this time, I side-eye her, watching the way she moves, the tension in her posture.

“She’s got a very dark energy around her,” she states calmly.

I lift a brow, staying completely silent, but Noir scoffs, throwing her hands in the air.

“What the fuck! Haven’t we all?”

“Noir…” Hell's voice is a low warning from behind, reminding me he’s still there.

“No, Hell!” Noir bites, her frustration boiling over. “She’s my sister. My responsibility!”

“Maybe it’s for the best, pretty girl. I have plans for us. I can set her up somewhere safe.” Hell’s voice follows, deep and reassuring.

I glance at Noir, and I can see she’s clearly getting upset.

“Plans?” She sniffles, her tone unsteady. “But…”

“I was gonna take you away from all of this for a bit. Just me and you. But I found her, and I knew I had to bring her to you.”

I inhale deeply, my stomach twisting. I don’t want to be a fucking burden or get in the way of her happiness.

“It’s fine. I can just leave.” I say, but Noir shakes her head.

“No. You belong here. With me. With us,” her tone is softer now. “You can stay here with Blush. Train. And when I get back—”

“What don’t you understand about the word no, Noir?”

Madame’s voice cuts through the room like a whip, and we all look at her as she continues. “She has no talents, and I don’t house outsiders. You’re aware of this.”

“Outsiders?” Noir repeats. “So what the fuck am I, then?”

Madame’s expression remains composed, unreadable as she turns to her.

“You have a gift I wasn’t willing to let slip. And deep down, you always belonged here.”

My fists clench at my sides, my gaze falling to the floor.

Hell steps forward now, taking control of the situation. “Noir, Arabella, give me and Madame a minute.”

Madame exhales sharply, irritated but willing to listen to him, before turning and making her way back to her desk.

As Noir and I turn to leave, I notice she looks at Hell, and he gives her a small nod.

Standing outside the circus, Noir faces me, her eyes soft.

“I’m sorry about her. She’s not usually like that.”

I blow out a big breath as I look aside.

“I mean, she has her reasons and maybe she’s right. Maybe I shouldn’t be here, Noir. I don’t have any quirky talents. I don’t know anything about this life.”

She shakes her head, refusing to take no for an answer.

“You can learn. I didn’t know either.”

I stare at her, realizing my sister is much more stubborn than I ever thought. Although I admire her fight to keep me with her, I can’t help but wonder if this place is really for me.

“Hell will sort it. He always gets what he wants,” she says, lifting her chin in defiance.

“How did you end up here?” I ask, my eyes searching hers. “Did he kidnap you?”

Her brows knit together for a second before she glances around at the place she now calls home.

“No, but it’s a long story. One I plan to tell you as soon as you’re settled here. And I’m sure you have a story of your own to tell.”

Suddenly, I notice Hell leaving the tent and he walks toward us before stopping.

“Well?” Noir probes, eyes glistening with anticipation.

Hell lifts his hand calmly, a set of keys dangling between his tattooed fingers. The metal glints under the flickering lights, but before I can understand what they’re for, Noir lets out an excited squeal, leaping off her feet and throws herself into his arms.

He catches her effortlessly and over her shoulder, his gaze darts to me. It’s in that moment, it sinks in. It’s happening. I’m staying here, in this crazy place and there’s no getting out of it.

“Thank you! Thank you!” Noir’s voice is muffled against his leather jacket, her grip tight, as if she could squeeze her appreciation into him.

“It’s a trial, my little dolly,” Hell murmurs against her hair, his voice carrying a warning.

Noir nods quickly, as if his words barely register and the moment he sets her back on her feet, she turns to me, her blue eyes bright with mischief.

“Come on! Let’s take you to the Hollows’ trailer. I have some clothes that should fit you, well, at least until we go shopping or something.”

Following behind Hell and Noir, I take another glance around as we reach the edge of a trailer park, tucked right behind the circus. Rows of trailers sprawl across the gravel and grass, stretching as far as the eye can see, their doors and windows lit by the soft glow of string lights.

The bulbs connect from one trailer to the next, like makeshift street lamps. The woods press in closer here and shadows spill between the trees, darkening everything it touches.

I lag behind, my steps slowing as my gaze drifts to Hell and Noir once more. He walks with that typical dominant male confidence, his arm draped around her shoulders, pulling her close into his side. She leans into him, as if she belongs there, as if this world, this place and him, have always been where she was supposed to be all along.

And me? I don’t know where the fuck I belong. Not yet. That old lady clearly doesn’t want me here.

My mind drifts back to a time before all of this, before being taken by Kyro. A time when I once felt that way about someone, when I had handed over my soul to someone I believed I could trust. I believed it was something unbreakable, but trust is a fragile thing, and in the blink of an eye, it fucking shattered.

The memory cuts deep, and as I feel the betrayal resurfacing, anger coils in my stomach, hot and seething like molten lava. It simmers, old but never forgotten. It’s been so long since I’ve felt free enough to face those demons, to let myself feel the fire instead of burying it beneath the ashes of I’ve become.

I was ready to hunt down those who took everything from me, but before I could turn the rage into revenge, I was taken. And just like that, my plans crumbled to dust.

I was facing a different kind of nightmare all together, not knowing if I would survive again. Not knowing if I would ever escape. But I’m here now. And the moment I’m steady on my feet again, nothing and no one will stop me.

A sudden chill spikes up my spine, fast and unusual, stopping me dead in my tracks. I’ve never felt anything like it before. It’s as if a dark entity has wrapped itself around me, cloaking my body in an unseen weight and instinct claws at the back of my mind that something is behind me.

Watching. Waiting.

Noir and Hell continue ahead, unaware that I’ve stopped, and my pulse unexpectedly thrums against my ribs as I slowly, warily, turn my head, side-eyeing over my shoulder.

A figure stands motionless in the distance, just by the circus tent. Covered in shadow, he is nothing but an ominous silhouette, and I feel a sharp thud in my heart from it skipping a beat way too fast.

Then, as I turn my head fully to get a clearer look, his eyes snap open, red spirals scorching through the darkness, locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath hitch. His body is poised to pounce, tension coiled in every inch of him.

Wrath.

I roll my eyes and face forward again, exhaling shakily through my nose.What is with this guy? I haven’t just got my freedom back to let someone like him drag me back into the dark. I’m not here to play games with some fucking sideshow freak.

Without hesitation, I lift my hands, yank my hood over my head, and keep walking, ignoring the heaviness of his stare.

Let him watch. Let him try me.