Goblin Bites: Scary Stories 8

Ben absolutely hated carnivals. Everything from the rattletrap rides that were one loose bolt away from collapsing, the greasy, disgusting food that was literally Salmonella in a paper boat, and those annoying, terrible midway games. The midway games to him were the worst: every single one was totally rigged, so you always wound up spending three months allowance on trying to win a stupid, threadbare little plush toy you could buy at any discount toy store. On top of that there was always a crowd at the carnival, meaning hours upon hours of pushing and shoving to even get anywhere while trying not to get trampled by snot-nosed little kids and their often obese, negligent mothers.

Cassie on the other hand was different. She absolutely loved carnivals, for reasons Ben couldn't fathom. All she talked about was the annual carnival coming to town as soon as the posters went up every year in their school. So, like an idiot, he'd asked her to go to the carnival on opening night. Normally, a cheerleader wouldn't dare waste her time on a dorky guy like him. Ben thought they'd rather get acne or a bad hair day first. But Cassie wasn't nearly as stuck up as the other girls on the squad, which was why he liked her... and shockingly she'd said yes.

So there he was: stuck in the middle of the crowd with a greasy, limp funnel cake in hand and an aching shoulder that he'd nearly thrown out winning Cassie a cross-eyed stuffed little pig, debating with the girl of his dreams which ride to go on next. Her vibrant blue eyes lit up suddenly and she began grinning with excitement. "Look," she gasped, "A funhouse! They haven't had one of those here in years! C'mon, let's go in!" Ben winced as she began dragging him along by his sore arm, but pulled back to stop her in her tracks once they were standing in front of the attraction. If any of the slapped-together attractions at the carnival should be condemned, this one was definitely first in line. The funhouse was beyond ancient, constructed of moldy plywood planks with badly peeling paint, held together by a handful of rusty nails and a prayer. Ben wasn't even sure if the attraction was open. There was no line - which was unheard of - and everyone around them just kept walking past, as if it didn't exist.

"That's stupid," Ben thought, "Look at that giant eyesore! How could they not see it? They probably just don't want to get Tetanus." Before he could say anything to Cassie though, she was already walking up to the man in charge of the attraction. He stood behind a rickety old podium in a grungy looking clown costume. If the attraction itself wasn't enough to make Ben "nope" out of the funhouse, that guy certainly was.

Of course, all clowns were creepy, that was to be expected. This clown however was definitely creepier than most. His face was painted in thick layers of dirty grey greasepaint that probably used to be white at some point, with the stereotypical comically overdrawn red mouth and triangles under the eyes. His costume was even filthier and covered in hand-sewn patches, most of which were already coming unstitched. Crowning off his faded, colorful ensemble was a matted rainbow curly wig, fitted around the back of his head liike a half-eaten donut that left the top of his scalp totally bald. Most unsettling of all were his eyes. Ben thought it was strange that even from a distance of fifty feet he could clearly see their color - a bright, almost glowing red that pierced his very soul. The sight of this clown alone could make a roomful of toddlers pee their pants in fear at a birthday party, and honestly Ben wasn't too far off from that.

Cassie looked back at Ben and waved him over eagerly, leaving him no choice but to begrudgingly jog to her side. "It's just one time," he thought, "If I wimp out now, I might never get a second date. Just suck it up and deal with it." Outwardly, he forced a smile and looked from Cassie to the clown, "Okay, I'm here. Uh... hey, man. How much for a ticket to the funhouse?" The clown slowly turned his head to look at Ben, causing a strong shiver to run down the teen's spine. He said nothing, just raised his arm beckoningly toward the attraction with a nod. Ben blinked at the clown and the funhouse in confusion, "Huh? Wait: we can just... go in? We don't have to pay? Are you sure?"

The clown nodded slowly, which earned a squeal from Cassie, "It's free?! That's awesome!! That means we can go through as many times as we want! Let's go!!"

Ben yelped as Cassie grabbed his arm and started running toward the funhouse entrance, "Cassie, wait! This doesn't seem a little shady to you?! If it's really free, why aren't there more people lined up to go in? Also, doesn't that guy give you the creeps?!"

Cassie roled her eyes and tossed her long, black hair, "Benny, please! It's just a gimmick; every barker for every game and ride has one. People are just probably nervous to go in considering what happened the last time the carnival had a funhouse."

Ben narrowed his eyes at Cassie curiously, "Why? What happened last time?"

Cassie huffed out a breath and tossed her hair again, "I dunno, like, some girl died or something. C'mon, let's go in already!"

She started pulling on Ben's arm again, but he pulled back firmly, "Hold it, back up!! Somebody DIED in that funhouse?! Cassie, are you for real?! No way am I going in there!!"

Cassie puffed out her cheeks and crossed her arms angrily, "I never said it was this funhouse, you idiot! Besides, that happened, like, thirty years ago!" When Ben refused to budge, she glared at him with the fury of a thousand suns and sighed again. "Fine," she grumbled, "If you want to act like a big baby, I'll go in by myself... and you can forget about a goodnight kiss or any other dates from me!"

As she started walking away, taking all his hopes and dreams with her, Ben rubbed his face with a groan. If he let her walk in there alone, he would never hear the end of it. Cassie would probably tell her friends how much of a panty waist he was at school Monday morning, and by Tuesday his reputation (such that it was) would be forever ruined. "Cassie, wait," he called, running after her. When he made it to her side again and took her hand, she gave him a smile that turned his legs into putty, then held his arm as they walked into the funhouse together.

The inside of the funhouse was almost pitch black. Every now and again they came across a flickering flourescent light, but the illumination it gave was barely enough for them to see their hands in front of their faces. It was honestly a little unnerving to Ben, even without seeing dozens of warped versions of himself looking back at them in the mirror maze. "Cassie, I don't like this," he muttered, "Something doesn't feel right. I think we should go back." When he got no response, it hit him then that the only reflection he saw was his own. "C-Cassie?!" he called out, looking all around for her, "Cassie, where are you?!"

Ben's fear grew by the moment as he began spinning around in circles, disoriented by his own terrified face everywhere he looked. Eventually his fear took over and he began running, smacking head first into a dead end made up of a triple-paned mirror. Suddenly, he felt a hands on his shoulders, gripping them with inhuman strength to hold him in place. "Surprise," Cassie's voice purred, but it didn't sound quite exactly like it usually did. It sounded deeper, sinister, and almost like an animal's growl. Ben was confused that he heard and felt Cassie holding him, but he couldn't see her in the mirror. He turned to look at her face, and froze solid when he saw it: her beautiful blue eyes had changed to a glowing red, and her teeth had elongated into dagger-sharp points. Before Ben could even react, she suddenly sank those teeth deep into his neck.

Ben's screams were drowned out by the sounds of the noisy carnival outside. When they eventually silenced, Cassie walked out of the funhouse alone, licking her fingers clean with a satisfied little grin. She nodded to the clown and gave him a wink as she passed the podium on her way out, "Thanks, Patches. I left you some this time. See you next weekend." The clown returned her nod, hanging a "closed" sign on the podium after she vanished from sight, then entered the funhouse with a mop, bucket and a rolled up plastic sheet tucked under his arm.