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Wicqued Truth
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Chapter 1:- The Ringmaster
I’ve always hated circuses… yet… I was still here, waiting.
“Axelle!” a small yet demanding hand tugged at my shirt, forcing me to glance down at the tiny figure that snuggled into the seat next to me. It was Henri, my five year old brother. He stared at me with eyes of curiosity and questioning as he struggled to come up with the right words to form his coming question. I watched him closely, my observing eyes noticing how his face expression didn’t show much excitement at all. That was mere disappointment. The whole point of having me bring him here was to cheer him up. It seemed that this was just worsening his mood and that was certainly not something satisfying, especially after I risked the wrath of my father for coming here.
It didn’t take very long until I heard him whisper, his voice this time less harsh, but shyer than ever, “When will the show start?” With a cutesy blink of his eyes, he pouted to indicate his impatience. I didn’t quite know the answer to his question yet, so I responded simply by shrugging my shoulders. He didn’t seem to mind and just went right back to shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Henri was a quiet kid and I enjoyed that, but sometimes I do wonder what goes on in his head. He tends to hold onto that blank gaze of his on a daily basis. It stares out of his eyes into the empty spaces of wherever he chooses to doze off to. His suspicious gazes have even brought me to wonder if he ever saw things that my father and I couldn’t catch with our own eyes. He was indeed, a kid with many wonders. I envied him because of that.
My attention was easily carried away by the different assorted colored crystals of lights. They lit up the whole tent with an illuminating glow and because they were aligned in neat, orderly rows circling the ceiling above, that allowed them to shimmer with superiority. Even the simple way they glistened with the lost strands of sunlight made the rays of aurora billow with much elegance. Eventually, all the light started to crowd into my vision, making me blink away the overwhelming amount of luminosity. The more I stared, the more my eyes began to hurt.
This feeling of interest licked me with familiarity. Where have I felt such an emotion before? I didn’t remember, and there wasn’t enough time to spend wondering more of the thought. I was already moving on to observe the rest of the magnificent decorations.
There were small triangular flags of even more colors that bordered the rims of the stage. These colors though, they weren’t as extravagant and interesting as the crystals were. They stung at plain colors you probably see every day. Ribbons laced against the smooth fabric of the tent, two shades of red caressing each other as they intertwined with one another. The stage was alight with bright golds and silvers, seeming as though fairies had exploded onto it with possible glee. The shimmering substances were sparkles I assumed; sparkles of all sorts that glimmered with a magical feel to it. Everything seemed exaggerated. Almost as if it was all bought from a dream and dragged out into this single tent. The audience grounds where I was sitting at, were raised at least 10 feet from where the stage was. From my seat, I could make out the sea of cluttered people surrounding the stage, their muffled but hollering voices drifting away with the cold winter air. There must have been at least a thousand some people that have come to watch the show. This was after all, going to be performed by a very famous traveling troupe. It would certainly be a one in a lifetime chance to come see them. Or so I have been told.
That was right. I had come with Henri to watch the famous Cirque Du Méchant perform their ever so stunning stunts and acts. No excitement dared trickle over my face though. I was much too busy trembling inside, sweating even in this freezing weather. The voices of warning within my head whispered quietly to me; their scolding voices listing the reasons as to of why I shouldn’t be here. I only shook my head violently, doing everything I could to scatter those doubting thoughts.
Not after all of that. I would not give up now.
A sudden clapping of one’s hands entranced me with surprise, the sound ringing with a suspicious echo and slowly hushing the voices of others. It had an alluring sound to it, the pace drawing in my curiosity easily. Everyone turned to one another, searching for the source of the sound. I was one of the many people, my eyes determined to find the owner of the clap. But of course, the clapper’s source didn’t show itself. It only continued on in slow, shortened beats; the sound growing louder and louder as seconds past.
Voices broke out in confusion, the chattering among the audience rising once again. I simply lifted my head to see above the heads of those who had stood. Henri had gotten up on top of his seat, small hands cupped around his eyes like binoculars.
“What’s happening?” his voice was so quiet compared to the shouting of frustrated people. I barely caught what he had said. Biting my lip, I inched closer to him to make sure he would hear me. “I’m not sure. I think the show’s going to start soon.”
A smile easily swept across his face almost immediately. His hands were thrown into the air with glee and my eyes shot towards the stage, the place where his gaze had shifted so suddenly to.
A tall man with a top hat colored in five—six different shades of red shimmering silk stood on the stage. He was strangely… beautiful. His hair swayed down his back like a purifying waterfall that rained the color of midnight. Eyes the color of blood stared alluringly to anyone mesmerized by his looks. That pretty much narrowed it down to everyone. The topcoat he wore consisted of black expensive fabric that I couldn’t quite identify because of the distance. It was lined with various scarlet designs that were very sharp and easy to notice within a blink of an eye. Maybe it was just me, but his snow, pale white skin glowed under the bright lights that drew to him. The sight of him reminded me of all the fantasy movies I’ve seen, times ten.
He greeted us all solemnly as his expressionless face scanned through the quieting crowds of people. Everyone stared at the man with much curiosity clear in their eyes. Then, a single, sly grin curled onto his lips deviously as his feet swiftly carried him towards the middle of the stage. His midnight hair trailed behind him, allowing the winter breeze to somewhat play with it.
“Welcome~” his voice drifted off into the air with a hint of singing, “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages ~ to the Cirque Du Méchant”
Everyone threw all of their attention to the man I figured was the Ringmaster, their eager expressions seeking excitement and suspense.
The show was finally going to start, and my stomach twisted with both regret and guilt. I fought the urge to run out of the circus in horror. Just the ringmaster's appearance knocked me with slight fear. Maybe coming here... was a bad idea after all.
Henri on the other hand, was enjoying this already. He was smiling so naturally that it caused me to wrinkle my face in disgust a couple of times. I didn't understand him, and he didn't understand me either. As long as he was enjoying his time here, I wouldn't leave. I left it at that, and shifted my attention to the stage once more.
The determined look spread across the Ringmaster's face sent me shivering. He looked so calm, yet crazed. I couldn't quite identify what I thought of this man.
The tent filled with an unexpected silence. Nobody dared to break it.
As the Ringmaster's eyes continued to graze among the crowds of clueless people, I laced my fingers together nervously. When he reached me, his eyes suddenly paused. Our eyes met and I trembled. His blood bathed eyes were stone cold, staring right at me as another grin secretly slipped onto his lips. I stopped breathing, my heart sinking into a dark hole, begging him to look away. The cold winter air bit me with frost, but my face heated up with beads of sweat. I was shaking rather uncontrollably, and Henri noticed. He shook my arm, releasing me from my moment of horror.
I broke away from the Ringmaster's gaze, turning my head to Henri.
"What's wrong Axelle?" His voice was both concerned and curious.
I wet my lips before replying to his question. "N-nothing... It's just a little cold."
He looked unconvinced but returned to watching the Ringmaster anyways. I, on the other hand, decided not to look down. I was afraid that he would still be staring right at me.
The lights suddenly dimmed, eventually fading, and turning the whole tent into a room of darkness. It was indicating the start of the show.
I glanced downwards towards the stage, waiting for the lights to reappear and shine down on it.
"And what might your name be?" Someone's voice suddenly whispered quietly to me, their breath softly beating against my right ear. The sound of it froze me in complete alarm for a second or two. I cautiously turned around to meet whoever this person was.
His beady crimson eyes stared right through my soul, his grin somehow visible in this darkness. I could feel his breath caressing my face. It smelled of danger and mysteries. Swallowing down a muted shriek, I studied his face in complete apprehension. His lips stood only an inch away from mine. I wanted to pull away, but his presence had slowly wrapped around me, not allowing me to move even the slightest. His face was slowly nearing mine, his grin growing smaller. And then, he brushed a kiss upon my quavering lips.
-----------------
I feel as though this chapter was rather boring and uninteresting to read.
It was pretty much just a description of the circus and the ringmaster.
Hopefully the next one can have more action.
Comments and Criticism would be much appreciated.
My grammar isn't the best, so tips and advice would really help.
I’ve always hated circuses… yet… I was still here, waiting.
“Axelle!” a small yet demanding hand tugged at my shirt, forcing me to glance down at the tiny figure that snuggled into the seat next to me. It was Henri, my five year old brother. He stared at me with eyes of curiosity and questioning as he struggled to come up with the right words to form his coming question. I watched him closely, my observing eyes noticing how his face expression didn’t show much excitement at all. That was mere disappointment. The whole point of having me bring him here was to cheer him up. It seemed that this was just worsening his mood and that was certainly not something satisfying, especially after I risked the wrath of my father for coming here.
It didn’t take very long until I heard him whisper, his voice this time less harsh, but shyer than ever, “When will the show start?” With a cutesy blink of his eyes, he pouted to indicate his impatience. I didn’t quite know the answer to his question yet, so I responded simply by shrugging my shoulders. He didn’t seem to mind and just went right back to shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Henri was a quiet kid and I enjoyed that, but sometimes I do wonder what goes on in his head. He tends to hold onto that blank gaze of his on a daily basis. It stares out of his eyes into the empty spaces of wherever he chooses to doze off to. His suspicious gazes have even brought me to wonder if he ever saw things that my father and I couldn’t catch with our own eyes. He was indeed, a kid with many wonders. I envied him because of that.
My attention was easily carried away by the different assorted colored crystals of lights. They lit up the whole tent with an illuminating glow and because they were aligned in neat, orderly rows circling the ceiling above, that allowed them to shimmer with superiority. Even the simple way they glistened with the lost strands of sunlight made the rays of aurora billow with much elegance. Eventually, all the light started to crowd into my vision, making me blink away the overwhelming amount of luminosity. The more I stared, the more my eyes began to hurt.
This feeling of interest licked me with familiarity. Where have I felt such an emotion before? I didn’t remember, and there wasn’t enough time to spend wondering more of the thought. I was already moving on to observe the rest of the magnificent decorations.
There were small triangular flags of even more colors that bordered the rims of the stage. These colors though, they weren’t as extravagant and interesting as the crystals were. They stung at plain colors you probably see every day. Ribbons laced against the smooth fabric of the tent, two shades of red caressing each other as they intertwined with one another. The stage was alight with bright golds and silvers, seeming as though fairies had exploded onto it with possible glee. The shimmering substances were sparkles I assumed; sparkles of all sorts that glimmered with a magical feel to it. Everything seemed exaggerated. Almost as if it was all bought from a dream and dragged out into this single tent. The audience grounds where I was sitting at, were raised at least 10 feet from where the stage was. From my seat, I could make out the sea of cluttered people surrounding the stage, their muffled but hollering voices drifting away with the cold winter air. There must have been at least a thousand some people that have come to watch the show. This was after all, going to be performed by a very famous traveling troupe. It would certainly be a one in a lifetime chance to come see them. Or so I have been told.
That was right. I had come with Henri to watch the famous Cirque Du Méchant perform their ever so stunning stunts and acts. No excitement dared trickle over my face though. I was much too busy trembling inside, sweating even in this freezing weather. The voices of warning within my head whispered quietly to me; their scolding voices listing the reasons as to of why I shouldn’t be here. I only shook my head violently, doing everything I could to scatter those doubting thoughts.
Not after all of that. I would not give up now.
A sudden clapping of one’s hands entranced me with surprise, the sound ringing with a suspicious echo and slowly hushing the voices of others. It had an alluring sound to it, the pace drawing in my curiosity easily. Everyone turned to one another, searching for the source of the sound. I was one of the many people, my eyes determined to find the owner of the clap. But of course, the clapper’s source didn’t show itself. It only continued on in slow, shortened beats; the sound growing louder and louder as seconds past.
Voices broke out in confusion, the chattering among the audience rising once again. I simply lifted my head to see above the heads of those who had stood. Henri had gotten up on top of his seat, small hands cupped around his eyes like binoculars.
“What’s happening?” his voice was so quiet compared to the shouting of frustrated people. I barely caught what he had said. Biting my lip, I inched closer to him to make sure he would hear me. “I’m not sure. I think the show’s going to start soon.”
A smile easily swept across his face almost immediately. His hands were thrown into the air with glee and my eyes shot towards the stage, the place where his gaze had shifted so suddenly to.
A tall man with a top hat colored in five—six different shades of red shimmering silk stood on the stage. He was strangely… beautiful. His hair swayed down his back like a purifying waterfall that rained the color of midnight. Eyes the color of blood stared alluringly to anyone mesmerized by his looks. That pretty much narrowed it down to everyone. The topcoat he wore consisted of black expensive fabric that I couldn’t quite identify because of the distance. It was lined with various scarlet designs that were very sharp and easy to notice within a blink of an eye. Maybe it was just me, but his snow, pale white skin glowed under the bright lights that drew to him. The sight of him reminded me of all the fantasy movies I’ve seen, times ten.
He greeted us all solemnly as his expressionless face scanned through the quieting crowds of people. Everyone stared at the man with much curiosity clear in their eyes. Then, a single, sly grin curled onto his lips deviously as his feet swiftly carried him towards the middle of the stage. His midnight hair trailed behind him, allowing the winter breeze to somewhat play with it.
“Welcome~” his voice drifted off into the air with a hint of singing, “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages ~ to the Cirque Du Méchant”
Everyone threw all of their attention to the man I figured was the Ringmaster, their eager expressions seeking excitement and suspense.
The show was finally going to start, and my stomach twisted with both regret and guilt. I fought the urge to run out of the circus in horror. Just the ringmaster's appearance knocked me with slight fear. Maybe coming here... was a bad idea after all.
Henri on the other hand, was enjoying this already. He was smiling so naturally that it caused me to wrinkle my face in disgust a couple of times. I didn't understand him, and he didn't understand me either. As long as he was enjoying his time here, I wouldn't leave. I left it at that, and shifted my attention to the stage once more.
The determined look spread across the Ringmaster's face sent me shivering. He looked so calm, yet crazed. I couldn't quite identify what I thought of this man.
The tent filled with an unexpected silence. Nobody dared to break it.
As the Ringmaster's eyes continued to graze among the crowds of clueless people, I laced my fingers together nervously. When he reached me, his eyes suddenly paused. Our eyes met and I trembled. His blood bathed eyes were stone cold, staring right at me as another grin secretly slipped onto his lips. I stopped breathing, my heart sinking into a dark hole, begging him to look away. The cold winter air bit me with frost, but my face heated up with beads of sweat. I was shaking rather uncontrollably, and Henri noticed. He shook my arm, releasing me from my moment of horror.
I broke away from the Ringmaster's gaze, turning my head to Henri.
"What's wrong Axelle?" His voice was both concerned and curious.
I wet my lips before replying to his question. "N-nothing... It's just a little cold."
He looked unconvinced but returned to watching the Ringmaster anyways. I, on the other hand, decided not to look down. I was afraid that he would still be staring right at me.
The lights suddenly dimmed, eventually fading, and turning the whole tent into a room of darkness. It was indicating the start of the show.
I glanced downwards towards the stage, waiting for the lights to reappear and shine down on it.
"And what might your name be?" Someone's voice suddenly whispered quietly to me, their breath softly beating against my right ear. The sound of it froze me in complete alarm for a second or two. I cautiously turned around to meet whoever this person was.
His beady crimson eyes stared right through my soul, his grin somehow visible in this darkness. I could feel his breath caressing my face. It smelled of danger and mysteries. Swallowing down a muted shriek, I studied his face in complete apprehension. His lips stood only an inch away from mine. I wanted to pull away, but his presence had slowly wrapped around me, not allowing me to move even the slightest. His face was slowly nearing mine, his grin growing smaller. And then, he brushed a kiss upon my quavering lips.
-----------------
I feel as though this chapter was rather boring and uninteresting to read.
It was pretty much just a description of the circus and the ringmaster.
Hopefully the next one can have more action.
Comments and Criticism would be much appreciated.
My grammar isn't the best, so tips and advice would really help.
