Monday, February 18, 2013
Notes of the wicked: Dr. Morose: February 18th, 2013:
"Removing them wouldn't be a problem. They wouldn't be missed because no one knew for certain that they were ever there to begin with. They were a legend. A campfire tale. Something to be spoken of in hushed whispers for fear that the very darkness surrounding you might pick up on the suggestion and bring them back.
The history is muddled, at best. The most we can put together and prove, factually, is that the carnival troupe had mysteriously disappeared during the early 1890s in their travels from one town to the next. This was long before lengthy investigations for missing people, and no one was about to bother looking for a group of misfits and freaks of nature like these. They "why" is still unknown. There are versions of the tale that blame everything from witchcraft to pacts with the Devil himself, though if you ask me, this seems like classic curse territory. So all these years have passed and all this time, they've been here, trapped between worlds. A haunting of sorts, in the routine - that they've been performing the same show every night for the last hundred and twenty years, for no one in particular. But unlike ghosts, who we've had our dealings with in the past, these... creatures... can get really physical. Over the years, they've sort of warped and mutated into something else entirely. Something not human... at least not anymore. One look at them with their soulless eyes and their beautifully broken bodies and we knew they had to be ours.
It was simple. We waited until dawn when their bodies just slowed to a halt and shut down and we packed them into crates. One by one. It isn't technically kidnapping if they're not human. Or alive, for that matter. It was a lot of work, but the payoff will be worth it. And after the.. err... "unfortunate incident" that happened at Phantasmagoria Theatre last year (where all of our guests ended up slaughtered by a slew of pissed off ghosts), we needed a new project to keep us busy. And these freaks would be perfect. Just perfect. And who doesn't love a carnival, anyway?"
Friday, February 15, 2013
Welcome to the very beginnings of this twisted tale....
"Soft music haunted the air all around us. The song hung thick, a soft and disturbing voice murmuring in our ears and telling stories of the horrors that lay ahead. It pierced through our skulls and deep into the core of our grey matter where it embedded itself, making it impossible to think clearly.
The faint glow of a dimly lit string of circus lights gave warning that we had reached the edge of the thick wooded area, we had reached our destination....
We have finally found it.....the curse and the myth.....Commedia Dell' Morte's Carnivale....The comedy of death's circus.
Behind their cracked, emotionless masks they had long past the point of humanity years ago. No telling how long they'd been performing....silently....in this empty, dilapidated tent.
Monsterous, deformed shells of what they used to be.
Who are they?
Who WERE they?
We would soon find out......and bring them home."