AUTHOR'S NOTE AND A WARNING TO READERS: My first attempt at a Non-Human story, with light elements of Erotic Horror weaved in here and there. It's pretty extreme, so be warned. Read the tags, make sure you're okay with them, and then proceed with caution.
It is a work of fiction, and all of the characters in the story are above the age of eighteen.
All of my work - including this one - is copyrighted. © Devinter.
--- ASTOR BACHERET'S CARNIVAL OF DREAD ---
The poster, stapled to the weathered bulletin board, look aged in a decrepit way - but Raven figured it must be an aesthetic choice, as she couldn't imagine the funfair workers would bother to collect and reuse them from every location they visited. The paper itself was flimsy, easily wrinkled, and the print looked as if it was put on there with the use of an old stencil machine, with printing in bold, black lettering - all capital letters. A border-like illustration of eerie masks framed the words in the centre. "Astor Bacheret's Carnival of Dread. Entry: Free." Underneath, the date and location seemed to be handwritten with dark paint, as it had run and smeared, leaving irregular blotches in various sizes. The carnival was to take place that very evening, for one night only.
"Could be fun," Amaya mused, leaning over her friend's shoulder so she could read along. Or perhaps merely because the goth girl was in no position to rebuff her closeness right then. The taller lady had a tendency to draw close without being asked, but the two were just friends. Raven's nostrils could smell a mix of lilac perfume and vanilla body-wash on the young woman's skin. "Want to go?"
Raven turned around, and looked into her friend's amber eyes - like two shots of Jack Daniel's whiskey. Those big doe eyes - the sort that usually held an innocence to them, absent whenever she'd look at Raven. Replaced by hunger. That wicked lust, ever lurking under the surface. How small it made Raven feel to be stared down with those eyes..
"Uhh.. Seems a bit creepy, don't you think?" She frowned.
Amaya shrugged, playing with her wavy hair, one lengthy handful of the long black tresses looped through each of her fingers. "Exactly! Which is why we'll fit right in. Two goth ladies, ready for a night of horror! Besides, the weather's finally getting warmer and I'll have a chance to show off my cute new dress without needing to cover it with a coat. Please, Birdie? It'll be fun!"
Raven's frown only deepened. "You know I don't like when you call me that." She came from a wealthy background, and her father was co-owner of the Apple Valley golf club, obsessed with - and practically married to - the sport. With an avian inspired name to begin with, the nickname 'Birdie' had been stuck with Raven at home since before she could remember - and when Amaya found out, with her penchant for finding everything a little bit silly to be 'cute', that meant she had taken to using it as often as possible. Raven's complaints did little good in swaying her friend's teasing but affectionate habit.
"Fine, fine. Listen, we'll meet up at my dorm room an hour before and get just tipsy enough for a good time, but not too much so they won't let us in. We both deserve something fun after studying so hard for the midterms! We've been nerdy for long enough. Please?" The other girl added the last word on, apparently realizing how Raven wasn't overly thrilled by the idea. "If I have to spend another weekend with my nose in textbooks I'll die. Can't we take a little breather?"
She kicked at a rock with her converse shoes. The college town's streets were littered with pebbles and small stones, but they were surprisingly clean - and by the state of the local parks, you could tell both the city council and the students took pride in their environment. After a few seconds, Raven relented. "Ugh. Alright, but if it's too creepy we're leaving."
Amaya squealed a little, pulling her friend in for a tight hug, which took some strength due to Raven's stubbornness when it came to affection - the 2-months-younger of the goth ladies being introverted, cautious, and inexperienced. They were opposites in many ways: Amaya instead loud, outgoing and a natural show-off. But they shared a passion for melodic metal music and occultism, and had been friends ever since they met in Mrs. Small's English literature class during the first week of college, both of them giggling over her last name as their professor was anything but small. People called her 'The Balloon' behind her back for a reason.
The town of Marbella Springs were known for three things; the prestigious college, having the oldest still-running train station on the east coast, and for supposedly being one of the most haunted places in all of America. This meant that the town attracted those believing in ghost and spirits in droves, and no small part of the businesses catered to some form of tourism - offering both urban legend tours or amateur paranormal investigations to the general public. For a hefty fee, of course. So a horror-themed freak show of some kind fit right in. Locals who had grown up in town said they could hear whispers and sobbing at night - though most of the student were naturally quite sceptical.