I always wanted to find a place where I belonged. A place where I wasn't looked at differently for being one in a million. I left home when I was seventeen looking for this nirvana on Earth that I knew had to exist somewhere, and I finally found it in a small revival of traveling performers. No one here looks at me any differently because of my illness. See, even though I look like the perfect picture of health, that couldn't be further from the truth. I don't believe that my anomalies make me any less of a person than someone who has the ability to feel certain things. My new family has welcomed me with open arms, and even made me a top billing because of what I can withstand—which to say is a lot. Until him. I never knew that I didn't care to feel anything until he joined us. I want to feel him. I need to feel him. I’ve finally found the one thing I’m unable to withstand, and when I feel his eyes on me, I know that things will be alright eventually. He wants to help me—I can see it in the way he looks at me. Whether he admits it or not, I know that he’s come here for me.

BEAU I hate the Carnaval. The freaks and wide-eyed visitors make my flesh crawl. They are lower than my brother and I. We are gods amongst monsters. As they say, two heads are better than one. Everyone else is dirt. But Nox is all that matters. He’s not just an extension of myself. He is more than flesh and blood. To me, he’s all I need. The only man I’ve ever loved. And if anyone dares hurt my brother… I’ll make the whole world bleed. NOX The Carnaval is my home. These are my people. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with the troupe and Beau right beside me. The two of us spent years aching to see the world, and now we live the dream every day. Almost. What will it take to truly win over a Beauty? And what lengths am I prepared to go to in order to make sure she stays by our side? MINERVA Elysium is in sight. So close I can almost taste it. The two-faced god is the gateway to our true home. He will take us there, that much I’ll make sure of. Even if it means spilling the blood of a thousand pathetic mortals, which I’ll do with a grin upon my face.

Family. Friends. Freaks. I'm a little person, but more than that I'm a fairy. It’s not by birth, or by choice. These people who surround me every day accept me for who I am, and what I was transformed into. Yet, none of them truly understand the weight I'm carrying on my breaking body. I'm running from a past that's riddled with pain. It haunts me. Every single day, every time I look in the mirror, it feels like he's there too, looking over my shoulder. I was born a freak. He turned me into a monster.

Animal. Pet. Dog. Freak. Entertainment. That’s all I’ll ever be to those outside of Carnaval des Ténèbres. So I perform for them. I fetch, roll over, and stay. I fulfill their demented need to see me as an animal, as something beneath them. But underneath the hair, I’m just a man. A human being with human needs and emotions. Now I’m trapped in a cage. He’s taken me away from the only family I’ve ever known and if I ever want to see them again, I need to play the part. I’ll be his pet. I’ll play his games. I’ll be the best damn show dog in the world. I just pray I still have my humanity when it’s all over.

Ezra I am the Ringmaster. A monster. Not a knight in shining armour. She would do well to remember that. Delilah was running from something, and I refused to save her. The Carnaval was not a place to hide when life was hard, it was a last resort. The thin line between life and death, when there were no other options. It was all we had. Delilah I like to play with fire. A Runaway. For five years I have waited for him. For the Carnaval. He thinks I need saving, but I can save myself. The Carnaval calls to me, I feel it in my soul. I need the darkness to make me feel alive, so I can set the world on fire.

It’s that perfect tingling feeling just beneath your skin, the one you can do nothing to fix. She’s the needles to my pins, she gives me that feeling. When I saw her I felt it and I knew—mine. Needles, my quiet packrat, my sweet seamstress, she thinks I have a heart inside this hollow chest. I stick a knife through it everyday just to show her I don’t. Still she won’t believe me, leaving me notes sewn into my clothes, and touching me when no one is looking. No matter what I stab into myself, it doesn’t take away that feeling, the skin crawling, needle pricks that scuttle just below the surface whenever she’s too close. I love it—it’s mine. I will be her pincushion, she pins the pieces of me together so softly with her quiet smile and shimmering eyes. I don’t need her words, I have her and I’ll never let her go.

The lights flickered. The crowd turned silent. Then all eyes were on me. They watched me every night. Captivated by each layer of clothing I removed. They salivated at the sight, but only one lucky man would get the chance to have me. I’d been trapped in the confines of slavery for as long as I could remember. My body hadn’t been my own, not until I came here. This freakshow was my home. The only place I felt safe. And the only way I could regain my control. I’d served men for years, but now it was my turn. With a flick of my hair and a purse of my lips, I caught them in my web. I let them have my body because I needed their souls. My beauty knew no bounds, and neither did I.