» Tue Sep 07, 2010 1:14 am Tales of a Gentleman Madman
Chapter 1 ? You're Scared of the Circus? Well, you should be?
"Doctor Foster went to Gloucester
In a shower of acid-rain;
He stepped in a puddle,
Right up to his middle,
and never stepped out again?"
I couldn't help but smile at the twisted nursery rhyme. It had long been perverted and was used to scare the children of city of the dangers of drinking the irradiated water. The ironic think was, there wasn't half as much water around those parts anymore ? not since the river dried up. Now the once lush countryside was barren and scorched, browns and blacks replacing greens and yellows. The people of Gloucester had been farming folk, nowadays they spend their time fighting amongst each other; killing for the sake of survival. It was a grim state of affairs.
I'm sorry, beloved guest, I haven't introduced myself. Please, forgive my rudeness. I am known as Jacques de'Oaker, by my closest and dearest. However, to everyone else ? including you ? I am J.Oker. My brethren and I are members of the troupe known as the Bloody Circus. I assure you, my pseudonym and the name of my gang is entirely coincidental. The Circus is my gang, and I am its leader; each of my men would die if I gave the word. To them I am Master; as the saying goes, what is the Circus without the Joker? Each of them, like me, has killed hundreds of times. It is a fact that is rather unfortunate I know, not that we remember doing so ? it is our sacred practice to intake in a hallucinogenic cocktail of drugs, making the dark deeds a lot easier on our spirits. Hence our name ? we often howl with laughter as we kill.
But anyway, please don't let me bore you with details. Let the tale continue?
Three men were waiting by the crossroads; as usual, the rain was hammering down. Each of the men was wearing a cloak, each with their hoods up ? protecting themselves from the storm. They seemed to be waiting for someone, when they talked it was in hushed tones and with cursory glances at their surroundings. After what seemed an age two lights appeared in the distance, two more men ? cloaked ? carrying oil lamps. They were carrying large packs on their backs.
They joined the other group and began conversing with them. My vision shifted back to the packs, my eyes were fixed on them. Impatience welled up inside me; I could feel it moving up my throat like sick. But then, perhaps that was the result of the drugs we had injected into our veins. I look at my brethren, each of them dressed in prewar clothing. Each of them wore a theatrical mask, covering their faces. With this they wore shirts, trousers and high boots, akin to the highwaymen of old. Over this, they each wore a renaissance-esque jacket of differing colours, complete with frilly cuffs and collars. Mine, I knew, was gold.
Finally, my impatience got the better of me. I stepped out of the shadows and made my way over to the group. "Evening, gentlemen. My apologies, but, I must request that you give me that pack and any items of value that may be on your persons." As expected, the group reacted violently ? each of them drawing a blade. "How about you f*** off." I remember smiling at that, and the feeling of anticipation rising up in me. I remember drawing my sword. My memory fades then?
I awoke back at our hideout. My garments were soaked and stained red. The men's packs were stacked against the wall, each full to the brim with food and glittering coins. What I saw next managed to jolt my memories of last night?.
Without thinking I plunged my blade, to the hilt, into the body of the first man ? I was offended, such vile language; I hadn't the time to pull the weapon out of his bleeding corpse before the next man came for me. He swung his dagger at me; I ducked and moved into him. I distinctly remember the warm feeling of his lifeblood flowing down my throat, and the raw taste of meat as I bit into his neck. I remembered the sound of ripping flesh; imagine pulling apart a steak with your bare hands my friend, as I tore his throat out with my teeth. His friends watched me in horror. I was distracted, I was eating, I was so hungry. This is where my troupe came in handy. The remaining two would have slain me where I knelt if it weren't for my brothers.
The three corpses were hanging from the ceiling, held in place by large billhooks and rope. I guess that was tonight's dinner. I smiled as I realised that one corpse was missing. I really had been hungry. It was a shame we didn't leave one alive, to spread the tale of our deeds; ensuring that all the people of Gloucester knew my name. Alas, it isn't to be.
