Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
“Welcome one and all to the Misfit Cabaret!” Dante stepped into the spotlight, his commanding presence silencing the murmurs as all eyes, including mine, were drawn to him. His attire was impeccable; a tailored red coat that accentuated broad shoulders and a dark, enigmatic charm that seemed to weave through the air like a tangible thread. Each word he uttered seemed to echo around the tent, mesmerizing the audience with tales of awe and wonder. Watching him, I felt an involuntary pull, a mix of professional curiosity and an inexplicable personal interest that fluttered in my chest.
As the final act drew to a close and the crowd erupted into applause, I slipped out, heading toward the animal enclosure. The night had draped the circus in shadows, and the enclosure was dimly lit, creating pockets of darkness that made it perfect for unnoticed observations. I wandered among the cages, feigning concern for the animals while keenly observing the handlers. Their interactions were brisk, professional, but there was an undercurrent of tension that didn't escape me. In whispered exchanges and hurried glances, I sensed a hierarchy of fear—perhaps of someone or something that wasn’t as benign as the colorful posters suggested. I noted every detail, each peculiar exchange, storing the information away like contraband. Exiting the enclosure, I made my way to the nearly deserted concession stand where Lila, the enigmatic trapeze artist, stood alone, sipping a drink. The faint moonlight cast a halo around her, enhancing the mysterious aura she carried like a second skin.
"Ava, isn't it?" Lila's voice was soft, yet it cut through the night air with clarity.
"Yes, and you’re Lila. Your performance was breathtaking," I replied, matching her tone, half-hoping to bridge the distance between professional curiosity and personal intrigue.
Lila smiled, a slow, knowing curl of her lips. "Thank you. But remember, this circus isn’t just about the dazzle and swing. It’s deeper, darker...and more consuming than the audience ever sees."
Her words hung between us, heavy with implications. Before I could probe further, she excused herself, leaving me with more questions than answers. I turned back in the direction of my small caravan, my thoughts swirling with thoughts of Lila. I’d only met a few of the performers so far, but already I could tell each of them were chosen not just for their charisma, but the way something sensual clung to them. Lila had a certain energy that dripped sex appeal. Her high cheekbones and dark eyebrows were striking and her skin was a warm, sun-kissed shade as if she spent all day in the sun. She was enticing in every way.
I closed the door of my caravan against the chill of the night and the lingering buzz of adrenaline. The space was cramped but functional, a temporary haven from the whirl of my new, double life. I sat at the tiny table and pulled out my journal, the pages waiting like silent confidants. I began to scribble furiously, each note a breadcrumb on the trail I was blazing into this hidden world. Dante’s image dominated the page, his allure etched in every line I wrote. There was something about him that was both captivating and alarming. My mind replayed every moment of the night, from his magnetic control of the crowd to the subtle discord among the animal handlers.
As I wrote, the excitement of unraveling a mystery meshed with a tinge of apprehension about the shadows I might uncover. My heart raced with the thrill of the chase, yet a part of me dreaded what I might find. Dante’s dark eyes seemed to haunt the edges of my thoughts, a puzzle that was both inviting and warning. Settling back, I closed my eyes, letting the day’s sensory overload wash over me. Tomorrow, I would delve deeper, armed with the snippets of whispered secrets and the almost mystical smiles of circus performers. But tonight, I allowed myself to drift into a restless sleep, where the real and the imagined began to blur.
Chapter Three
Dante
In the cool dimness of the main tent, I adjusted the spotlight above the center ring, ensuring each beam cast the perfect glow on the silks that hung like specters waiting for their dance with gravity. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Ava, the new assistant who had been subtly making her presence felt around the circus. She watched intently, her notebook clutched against her chest, her eyes following every one of my instructions.
"More to the left," I called out to the lighting technician, my voice echoing slightly under the vast canvas. I wanted perfection—nothing less was acceptable. Noticing Ava scribbling furiously, I couldn’t help but wonder what she was writing. Was it admiration or critique penned in those pages?
Under a sky streaked with dawn's first light, I was overseeing the setup of a new high-wire rig. My voice carried across the tent as I directed the crew with precise commands. Each member moved with urgency, a blend of respect and apprehension in their eyes—a usual reaction to my stringent demands. Ava stood a safe distance away, her gaze analytical. I wondered if she saw the necessity behind my strictness, the safety it ensured for my performers up in the air. A short while later, in the bustling confines of the costume department, I discussed fabric choices with Marla, our head costume designer.