All Hallows Eve Fun-Fair
Please do not read if you are creeped out by zombies/horror/gore or under the age of 18. There may be gross imagery associated with this should you read on.
This is not a representation of my actual mind and how I think - but a suitable scary story. Written for the 2011 SoFurry Halloween Writing Contest.
The puppy looked about six or seven but the grime encrusting the fur of his hands and face made it impossible to be sure. Between pinched finger and thumb he held one end of a length of green string. The other end was tethered to the ankle of a wailing infant, equally grimy, that floated a few feet above the pup's head.
The puppy smiled at me with brilliant-white teeth. "I won him at the funfair," he said, his voice old and gravelly. "You wanna come to the funfair? You can win all kinds of stuff." The infant stopped wailing. "Don't listen," it said. Its voice, neither male nor female, was soft and chiming and I felt myself go a little weak at the sound of it. "Don't listen to a word this lying little toe-rag says. He's filth and dirt through and through. Don't listen."
"All kinds of stuff," said the young dog, emphasising the words. He was well I didn't know what breed; the only thing I was able to pick out was the red merle coat that covered one of his arms, the other oddly black with a dirty white to the wrist. He was dressed in a tattered old coat, worn and faded in places, while on his legs were a pair of frayed jeans, with faded holes making the denim look stressed. They were just as dirty, if not dirtier than the fur on the puppy's face, the infant bobbing in the air above him making him look all the more bizarre.
That bizarre voice spoke again, making me blink a little as I felt my knees go weak. "You can't come to the funfair - there is no funfair. This is a trap, a trap. Doom and disaster befall all who happen to the funfair on All Hallows Eve!" With these final words, the infant let out another wail, the sound almost piercing. The only thing that really disturbed me was the fact that apart from a little twitch of the ears, one upright, one perked, made no sign that he even realized there was such a harsh cry a few inches above his ears.
The little dog-puppy slipped his paw around my own, the other still holding the screaming infant as a normal child would hold a balloon. He led me down the empty, oddly desolate hill and through the little wooded cemetery until we entered what was normally the field where Farmer Hogs kept his sheep but which was now covered in brightly coloured lights and theme park rides.
I saw neighbours and work colleagues riding about, walking about and laughing. The puppy kept hold of my hand, keeping me away from the rides as the now mostly silent balloon hiccupped, bobbing along behind us on a faint breeze. We walked past different games and rides - all the typical ones that you would find in a normal funfair - though something made me think that this was a themed funfair. Orange, black and purple rides were the main colour patterns, but I noticed dancing skeletons that looked so real that they burned my eyes.
My eyes fell back down to the puppy with a question in my eyes, but all he did was smile up at me and wag his spotted tail - though when I saw the state of his teeth, I winced. They were grey now, which piqued my memory slightly. I wagged my own tail instinctively as I heard the sounds of the fair, laughing as a rollercoaster rumbled over our heads and screams sounded through the air, the terror making me keen to have a try myself. I loved the fear that you felt just before the tracks twisted and looped and sent you hurtling so far and fast that you screamed, scared you would fall out or throw up.
When I noticed all the Jack-o'-lanterns everywhere, at the base of every ride, providing five of the points of the compass, I looked down at the pup holding my hand, only to recoil. What I had mistaken for dirt became weathered bone peeking through tattered fur. The infant 'balloon' cackled down at me, causing me to become weak as that soft, chiming voice became harsh commanding. "Such easy prey this town was. Who can resist a little puppy with a speaking balloon telling them about the Halloween funfair, in town for one night only?"
It was then that I realized that everything had gone silent, that of all the furs on the rides, no one was screaming or laughing, everyone riding the rollercoasters, the teacups, and the ghost train - even the Ferris wheel was being weighed ridden in silence. The sudden contrast to what had been ringing through the air made me pause and frown at the balloon. "What are you talking about?" It was only at that moment that I realized. I was listening to a talking balloon. Who would listen to a freaking talking, coherent balloon capable of conversation?
"Bah! Patchwork puppy! He was brought to life through odds and ends from my feast. He is always small, always helpless, always so cute and neglected that everyone will be willing to do as the puppy asks. I love the way I can feed on towns, leaving ghost towns behind me and dried up husks. I can feed fully on a town like this and sleep for thirteen years until the veil is thin enough for me to pierce through again." The puppy whimpered as the string cutting into his paw and dragging a drop of something thicker than blood to the surface, revealing another notch of bone.
"Show the kind lady your special pretty fur puppy. Patchwork puppy, do as I say or back in the ground you go!" A nasty growl rumbled through the chest of the puppy, though I saw now that he wore a dingy grey t-shirt. That was the first to go, and it was then I stumbled away from the puppy. He had the torso and head of a Labrador crossed with something else, but from the lower ribs to the hips - there was nothing but bone. From hips down he was a liver spotted Dalmatian pup. As I had noticed earlier but forgotten, his left arm was that of a red merle collie - the other that of a black and white collie.
As I stared in horrified disbelief, I noticed that tears were dripping down the puppy's face, the balloon lifting the little stitched and scarred puppy into the air so far and fast that I heard bone creak...
...and then noticed that the arms were of different lengths. The merle arm was only three inches smaller than the other one, unnoticeable with the balloon in hand but now I could see it too clearly. The fact that the puppy cried tugged at my heart strings. He could still feel, that poor puppy, trapped in the rotting body and forced to do the bidding of what evil spirit made him.
Tears rolled down my face as the balloon lowered the puppy down. He stumbled towards me, the balloon following, jerked about by the string of what I now noticed was blood. The longer I watched the puppy, the more he disintegrated in front of my eyes, rotting to the same bones that danced between the rides. All the furs on the rides were slowly fading in front of my eyes, as though they were slowly being drained like a bug by a spider.
The puppy wrapped his arms around my waist, whispering a soft apology before I felt my body split from breast-bone to stomach. Burning pain followed afterwards as blood bloomed along my clothing and I collapsed. My eyes were closing as I felt bony hands at my body, dragging at my skin and pulling me about. My screams echoed those of the little Frankenstein zombie puppy while above us all the balloon swelled with life and laughed and laughed and laughed...until I fell into blessed oblivion, the pain too much.
A little pup sits huddled over on his knees in front of a small shape in the dirty, raw and bleeding as soft words were muttered. No longer tethered to the balloon, but supervised by a skeleton who wore the bleeding fur of the female sprawled in the dirt and abandoned. Black and white fur was torn and tattered along the chest and stomach, and down the arms and legs. As a paw twitches, the little pup jumps up, skipping along to the bundle of 'cloth' on the ground and shaking it out to reveal a scavenged pattern of fur. Tiger fur bordered dog fur, wolf fur and rabbit fur also stitched together into the rough approximation of a body shape.
All around the three moving 'creatures' sat bones surrounded by skin, tightly bound into a bag of bones, though from a dozen of the corpses fur was missing in wide swathes.
The End.