“Ladies and gentlemen, good evening,” in the center of the ring the Ringmaster stood alone, “ the show is not yet over. Please, remain as you are.”

Filled with the creaking of hundreds of bodies shifting forward in their seats, the big top trembled with a pulse of its own. A steady drumming from the band picked up as a grin like I’d never seen before split the Ringmaster’s face in two.

“A creature from the deepest bowels of Hell. Born of Satan-no. No folks, the monster of which you are about to behold here, pulled up from his fiery throne bears the bloody crown of Satan himself!”

The drumming mixed with the pounding of my own heart. This wasn’t right. A shudder ran through the audience as the screech of iron gates slammed open. They dragged him in by chain, eyes covered with a bandana. I had never seen that contraption before but even from my distance I could see the sharp slivers of red in his skin from the steel bands that encased him.

Forgetting everything she had just told me I leapt up, pushing away any final thought of what did or didn’t make sense anymore. I didn’t have anything to free him with. Just my hands. The Star-Spangled Banner erupted from the band in a muffled flurry among the screams and pounding that rattled like a tremor around us. I tore the bandana away and caught his blood-shot eyes.

The ringmaster was on me, furious. His fingernails, like claws, slashed for my arms though all I could notice was the heat from his palms. He didn’t say anything amidst his anguished cries, but he didn’t have to. I could already hear her in my mind-her warning, ‘Do you realize what you’ve done? Do you see what you have caused?’

We stopped. I could hear the music-the quiet tinkling of the of the monkeyman’s bells from the opposite end of the ring floating over in a sardonic melody . My head snapped up, eyes meeting with Ivan’s. He heard it too. But the screams that broke through our momentary gaze was from the creature I had tried to save, Fyedka. Fakia. It was enough to tear the Ringmaster away from me. Leaping over the ring, outstretched fingers grasping for the nearest audience member. She was small, young. We both knew what had happened even before her bonnet fell loose of their curls and the still moist flesh sagged against her skull.

They were all dead.