Ring Master Guide

{Word Count:1336}

The evening sky was heavy with rain laden clouds, the occasional flash of lightning made the field seem more abandoned and ominous than it already was. The simple wood post and barb wire fence was rusted and broken, almost broken, or missing in places altogether. The grass and weeds had grown up to at least knee high and the scent of impending rain clung to the violent winds like the finest lotion on skin. The woman adorned in vintage ring master fashion vaguely acknowledges as she approaches the old and rotting "circus graveyard" a menagerie of decayed equipment. As she walks through the tombstones of tents and rail carts, the oppressive atmosphere hugs her like a second skin.

Walking up the rusted rail cart steps, she pries the semi-open door open further. Stepping inside the smell of dust and stale air greet her. There was no light to guide her way but then she needed no light to see, for you see she is dead. Treading along the corridor she payed no heed to the broken and empty windows, nor to the equally deteriorated condition of the seats. The rats and birds that scattered around her did nothing to unnerve her. Any spider web that happened to be in her way was torn aside with the brush of her hand and floated harmlessly away. To where it did not matter. Stopping at the end of the once luxurious rail cart's corridor, she forces the rusted and partially unhinged door open. Where she stands in front of rusted and broken animal cages, which mentally she counts one, two, three, all seven cages are here, with it's phantom occupants waiting only for her command.

"Perfect" she thinks with a wicked half smirk, half snarl on her face. Her melodic and southern accent tinged voice begins to fill the room, and she does not have to wait long for her circus animals to answer their master. Like some hallucinogenic dream the sound of animal roars drown out her calling, beckoning message. A mix of blue and white and grey-black mist that form into the shapes of lions and tigers fill the broken cages. Cats eyes watch her waiting for their first command, "Come", she says turning and walking back the way she came. Immediately her phantom animals follow behind their master like the well trained circus acts they are.

Exiting the "circus graveyard" and walking down the narrow dirt path that leads to a small Spanish village where she will begin her dia de los muertos act as a "payment collector" of souls. Her new role is really no different in form and fashion than being a ring master, just a different setting. She thinks with some macabre amusement. Tonight she will lead those she came for to a place where life is just a dream for the dead and the weight of that knowledge hugs the soul like lotion that can't be washed away. It is not long before she reaches the outskirt of the village where the smells of the living and pan de muertos and candy skulls mix. The colors of the decorations, and lights from all the candles lit in the cemeteries and lining the streets and window sills, the hammering of the work men building alters and mock coffins, children and adults dressed as devils and ghosts and various creatures, along with the puppets and pinatas becomes almost painfully overwhelming.

She did not let that deter her as she walked further into the village until she was practically in the center of it all. So far few had noticed her and those who had she surmised were smart enough to keep silence and avoid her. Up the hill like alley way to her left and coming down the dirt path was another of her kind, masquerading as a candy skull vendor, covered in a sombrero that obscured his face and a bright cape like poncho covering his shirt. She did not need to to see him to know that he was an elder among her kind, nearly as old as time itself she had heard whispers of. She wisely left him be.

She went up the street and stopping at the elderly woman's cart where she had created mass array of stark white candy skulls to be had. She looked over the names presented and picking relevant to the evenings work, strung them with string used to hang the skulls upon. Placing the money in the vendors hands she left as quietly as she came leaving the woman shaking, pale, and worried. The ring master found her first "soul collection" of the evening in the courtyard of a rich mans villa, a pretty young senorita stood laughing and making merry as a gaggle of young men surrounded her. The woman still looked as young and beautiful as she had ninety years ago, but, the ring master was not fooled. She knew how old and faded the "young senorita" had really become. A hollow thing of the past who was well past her prime.

Well she had saved her mother and sister ninety years ago and now there would be no other bargaining time was up she had her fun and now it was time to pay up, just as she had been told it would, death had come to collect. The ring master signaled her phantom animals to scare the men away and that's just what they did, appearing seemingly out of thin air all sharp claws and teeth, snarling and growling, circling and chasing. The men fled terrified before the animals finally settled forming a "moving circle" around the woman. Surely this must be some bad jest or dream she thought will pensive hope. She would have tried to escape her fate but somber remembrance and the ring master standing in front of her and blocking the path out of the court yard stopped her. "I thought the one I made a deal with was to come for me. He would demand payment and I would have to pay." The ring master said nothing for a few moments before finally speaking with a sneer on her lips and harsh, mocking tone, "Perhaps, my dear, that would have been so. But even still payment has been sent for and payment will be made. I come and demand payment and you pay was that not the agreement for saving your mother and sister?"

"What's that in your hand, Collector?" The woman asks impatiently, nervously. The ring master pretends to look interested in the sugar skull as she holds it in her hand "why that's your sugar skull, my dear." she says as the breaks the skull with the "young" senoritas name written on it. Turning her hand palm down she lets the broken pieces of sugar fall from her hand and to the ground. With a final breath and a scream that goes un-heard, drowned out by the noise of the festivities and celebration the ring master takes payment. With a flick of the wrist and a sharp thundering of the wind tinted with hues of blues, purples, and pinks she leans down and picking up the newly restored sugar skull the ring master observes the new fashion of it, no longer stark white with only a name on the forehead, but, instead brightly colored.

Images of a crude cross and halo marks replace the name on the forehead, shapes of flowers circle both eyes, shapes for teeth line the top and bottom of the mouth, swirls and dots line the cheeks while a spider web with a flower in the center of it is on the chin. Tying the skull back into its place on the stick she walks out of the courtyard with her phantom animals following behind. The darkness that remains in the little village where candle light can't reach hugs and hides her and her phantom army as she goes about her evening to collect the seven other souls required of her.

{Word Count:1336}