Night of the Tiger(19)

As much as she wanted it to happen, it wasn’t going to. But the carousel would live on in her work. She planned to draw the funhouse, the carnival, the rides and all the rest as soon as she got home. But before she drew any of those things, she was going to capture the carousel on paper. It would be a pale imitation of reality, but it was the best she could do.

Music filtered into the tent. It was low at first, but got louder with each passing second. It was traditional carnival music, the type of song that had no name but was instantly recognizable as the type of music that accompanied a carousel ride.

It was pretty and Aimee found herself humming along as she settled herself on the tiger’s back. “Da da da da dum,” she sang, alternating between humming and murmuring aloud.

Closing her eyes, she imagined herself actually riding the carousel as it whirled around. Her eyes shot open and she jerked her arm away as she felt a ripple beneath her hand. Had the tiger moved?

“You’re imagining things,” she muttered. But she was no longer quite certain. She’d seen many strange and impossible things here tonight. But it was a carnival, all smoke and mirrors—the funhouse, the performances and the rides. Everything about this place, from the pounding rhythm of the music to the bright flashing lights of the rides, was designed to give the customer a sense of excitement and wonder.

But the evening was over, the carnival was closed and it was time for her to leave.

Aimee was shocked by how badly she wanted to stay seated on the tiger. It was as if a part of her was urging her to hang on to him and never let go. “He’s not real,” she whispered. “He’s just a carved animal.” Besides, if he were a real tiger, he’d probably eat her for breakfast.

With great reluctance, she started to release her grip on the tiger’s neck. Just as she did, the carousel bucked and began to move.

“What the hell?” Grabbing hold to keep from falling, she looked frantically around. There was no one there. Yet the music continued to play and the ride began to circle around, moving faster and faster with each revolution until Aimee felt dizzy. With her weak leg, there was no way for her to get off without hurting herself.

“Stop.” She didn’t know who she was talking to, but there had to be someone out there operating the controls for the ride. “Please stop.”

“It’s too late to stop now,” a disembodied voice from the shadows informed her. “It was too late from the moment you chose one of the beasts and climbed onto his back.”

Lights flickered on, one by one, slowly illuminating the entire tent. There appeared to be benches circling the carousel, and all of them were filled with people. Aimee recognized the old man who’d sold her tickets at the main entrance, the fire-eater and the magician. All the performers and carnival workers were there. As she spun around again, Aimee saw the red-haired girl who’d taken her ticket for the sideshow and the smirking man who’d been in charge of the funhouse.

“Please let me off,” she begged as the ride moved more rapidly, the background nothing but a blur. It was going so fast now that she was afraid she was going to be sick. The hotdog she’d eaten earlier churned in her stomach, and she swallowed hard to keep from losing it.

The lion in front of her turned its head and stared at her. Her eyes were watering from the sheer speed of the ride and the dust being stirred up from the canvas floor. She blinked, not believing what she was seeing. The lion opened his mouth and roared before returning to his original position on the carousel.

The wolf howled, the bear growled. Aimee wanted to cover her ears but didn’t dare let go of the tiger. If she lost her grip, she’d be thrown from the ride. At the speed she was traveling, she’d at least break a limb or two, if she weren’t killed outright.

The crowd began to yell and then they began to chant. They were all crazy. She was crazy. Because they all began to change before her eyes. Whether it was a trick of her eyes because of the speed she was traveling or whether she was seeing them as they truly were, she had no idea. Their faces changed, their skin growing leathery and their eyes glowing like red embers. Some of them seemed to have horns. They morphed from people into the demons from her nightmares.

She couldn’t understand what they were chanting at first, but their words eventually came into focus. “Roric! Roric! Roric!” Aimee had no idea what the word meant, and she didn’t care. All she wanted was to get out of this place and go home to her familiar, two-story cottage just outside town. She would be safe there. If only she could get home.

Closing her eyes, she leaned down and wrapped her arms completely around the tiger’s neck. “Please. Please take me home,” she pleaded.