“It always looks abandoned when we’re Inverted.” Amanda said it like it made perfect sense. “And a lot of times there’s no record of us coming or going. It’s only when we’re here for a long time that it leaves enough of a mark that people remember. Otherwise, we’re wiped from their minds.”
“I…don’t…understand.” Cora was going to get a headache from this.
“I know. Not yet. But you will.” Amanda gestured for Cora to keep eating.
Cora took another large swallow of her coffee. She hoped it wasn’t drugged. But the caffeine was worth the risk. “Magic is real. I accept that. I can’t deny it anymore. I’ve seen too much weird shit this week. But I…I can’t accept that I’m trapped here. I need to try to get out. I’m not one of you. I can’t be. I just can’t.”
Amanda and Donna looked at each other for a long moment.
Amanda nodded.
Donna shook her head. “No. It’s too gruesome.”
Amanda shrugged. “It’d get the point across.”
“What’d be too gruesome?” Cora shifted back in her chair.
“Oh, it’s an old trick to break people in. Coming back from the dead usually does it. I was going to see if you wanted us to break your neck.” Amanda smiled sweetly, like it was no big deal at all. “It’s not so bad. Doesn’t hurt.”
“No!” Cora shot up from her chair and went for the door. “That’s it. I’m out of here.”
“Wait—”
She didn’t know which of them shouted for her to stop. She didn’t care. She threw open the door and bounded down the stairs. They were going to hurt her! Everyone here was a murdering psychopath—
And she ran right into a tall, skinny wall of red and black stripes. “Good morning, cupcake!” He beamed cheerily down at her, a smile plastered on his face. But, like it always was, it was filled with cruelty and edged in madness.
Simon.
“Fuck, no!” She pushed away from him and went to run. She made it ten steps before her limbs froze in place mid-stride. She sobbed in defeat.
“Where’re you going, Cora dear?” He sounded honestly confused.
“Let her go, Simon!” Amanda shouted from behind her. She twisted her head to watch.
Simon bowed. “Oh. Hello, ladies. I didn’t know you were here. I see you beat me to it. I was going to take Ms. Glass to breakfast.”
“Let her go,” Donna snarled angrily at him as she stormed down the steps. The little woman stood close to the Puppeteer, trying to get as much in the face of a man who was well over six feet tall as she could from more than a foot lower. Simon only smiled like he found it adorable. “Whatever sick games you think you’re going to play with her, I won’t allow.”
“Sick games?” He put his hand to his chest in mock hurt. “Me? Hardly. I can’t touch her now, as well you both know. Someone has to show her around. Teach her about her new life. I figured it might as well be me. She is mine, after all.”
They were talking about her like she wasn’t there, stuck in mid-running-stride, frozen like she was only a frame of a piece of film. “Hey, ass-clown!”
All three looked over to her. Simon sighed. He flicked his hand, and whatever was holding her like that—his strings—dropped her to the ground in a heap. She groaned from the impact. When she got up, he was already standing there next to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m not the Clown, darling. I’m the Puppeteer. Did you hit your head last night in your pathetic attempt at escape?”
She yanked free from him, and backed away slowly, not turning her back on him. “I’m getting out of here. Screw this. Screw you. Screw all of you.”
“Careful what you ask for. They’d probably take you up on that offer.” Simon shrugged. “All right, well, I’ll find you when you tire yourself out.” He gestured like he was shooing a child out of the room. “Go on. Do your best.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. Ignoring the calls from Donna and Amanda to stop, she turned and ran. Again.
She was going to find a way out of here.
She was going to go home.
2
When Cora got to a break in the fence that surrounded the fairgrounds, she knew better than to run into it headfirst like she had last night. She reached out and placed her hand…directly on an invisible barrier.
“Fuck!” She pounded her fist into it.
Picking up a rock from the ground, she threw it at the barrier. It passed through it without a problem. She threw another rock, and then touched the same spot. The rocks had no problem, and yet something was keeping her in.
She picked up a stick. She held it out in front of her like a wand and stepped forward. The stick passed through. Her fingers touched the barrier, and she couldn’t go any farther.
“Donkey cock!” She kicked the invisible barrier then swore again when she hurt her toe. “God damn, monkey-fucking piece of shit!”
She heard someone laughing behind her. A sadistic cackle she was already starting to recognize because of how it made goosebumps explode across the back of her neck. She turned her head to see Simon there, propped up against the back of the nearby storage building.
He was eating a bag of popcorn, smiling as though she were providing the best show in the world.
“Oh, screw you.” She glared at him. “Go sit and spin on some barbed wire.”
“What’d I do?” He looked down into the bag then back up at her. “I’m hungry.” He waved at her, motioning for her to go back to what she was doing. “Don’t let me interrupt. I’m having a blast watching you play Sisyphus.”
“I have a hard time turning my back on you.”
“Then you’re smart.” He smiled and munched some more popcorn. He held the bag out toward her. “Want some?”
She shook her head and turned back to the gap in the fence. Looking around, she saw a box and began dragging it over to the fence.
“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” He sighed.
She rolled her eyes at his asinine question. “You were going to turn me into a doll against my will. You were going to eat me.” She kept shoving on the box. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I be mad, Simon?”
“That’s fair.” He paused. “You really think you can escape, don’t you? You’re not just making a show of this. This is a real attempt.”
“Of course it is.” She growled. “I’m getting out of here.”
“You can’t. You’re one of us now.”
“No, I’m not! You’re all just fucking around with me again.”
“How do you feel today, Cora?”
She huffed as she tugged the crate. It was heavy and hard to move. She had to dig her heels into the dirt as she yanked on it. Simon didn’t offer to help. Not like she’d want his help, but still. More proof he was a douche. “Pissed off.”
“Mmhm. Besides that.”
She stopped dragging the box to stand up and glare at him. “What the hell are you asking me?”
“Your pain. Your OCD.”
“EDS.” She corrected but suspected from his broader smile that he was teasing her.