The Silent Orchestra

15

His eyes fluttered open.
White ceiling. White hallways. Big white building.
Horseback.
Roger sat up and gazed around.
It had a strange smell; Like the combination between a circus and a doctor's office.
There was no more Alex.
"Ah, Skye. It seems you are awake."
"I am not Skye."
"But you are, lass. You're still Skye. You can't change yourself. You will always be Skye. Forever."
"Where am I?"
"Safe."
"What?"
"Welcome to the Wonderland Asylum."
The Wonderland Asylum, beneath the fairgrounds. Roger remembered that from the stories that Alex would tell. He was sure it was just a legend, though.
The Wonderland Asylum, the place where, Alex said, was where the "Ringmaster" kept all of the "Circus Freaks." "They're all mad here." She would say.
And so the realisation hit, that Christopher was the ringmaster, and he was the show.
"Get off."
Roger climbed off the large steed, and just moments later, Christopher guided him through a large set of doors. A sign above the double doors read in bold black letters;
"ANXIETY WARD"
And then he was thrown into a room.
Roger had expected a typical asylum room. Padded walls, all white, closed in; But it was anything but.
As soon as he stepped inside, the padded floors disappeared beneath his feet, and were replaced with soft grass. The smell of stale air was replaced with the musty scent of old popcorn and fair foods, and the silence was broken by the music of a fairgrounds organ.
It was the fairgrounds again. But now it was back to normal. How it had been before the land got caught up in the war.
Then his fantasies shattered before his eyes as Christopher spoke in a thick tone.
"Look, Skye. It's everything you've ever wanted, right here." The ringmaster leaned in quietly, his face getting uncomfortably close to Roger's. Roger's face contorted into a twisted grimace as he smelled the heavy scent of smoke and whiskey from Christopher's breath.
"And it's all yours. On one condition. Join me. Join my circus. Become one with the show. It can be just like how it was whenever you would perform with that old marching band back when you were a young girl. And when we aren't performing, you can be here. But you will only be here if you come with me. Come on, Skye. Give into your temptations. Run away from this war and just join the circus..."
"Alright...Master."
Roger gave a gasp and covered his mouth, disgusted at himself. Did he really just submit to the forces of the dreaded Christopher Joeseph? His thoughts were silenced as he felt it all change.
He felt his teeth becoming sharp. He felt a flutter within his chest, and he felt colours pooling behind his eyes.
And then he felt nothing.
Christopher Joeseph gave a low cackle as he gazed upon his new performer. His bold blonde hair now cotton candy pink, and his mouth appearing to melt from his near-white skin. His eyes had become different as well, with his left eye a shade of magenta, and his right one cornflower-blue. Plasters were stuck to his face, and strawberry-syrup blood trickled from his nose.
So Christopher was proud.
"There, Skye. Now you are perfect. Just like we all should be."
He opened his mouth to speak, but he found himself unable to form any words.
"Ah yes, Skye. You cannot speak. It makes things a lot easier for me, without your arguing."
Roger looked up pathetically, fear etched out onto his delicate features.
"Oh, and I nearly forgot, Skye! I've also decided to numb your emotions, all but one. Fear. Now fear is all that you can feel. It dominates your fragile mind. You're afraid of me. You're afraid to disobey. You no longer want to find out, just how far the rabbit hole goes. Now you're helpless! You're my property! All mine, and you can't do anything! A circus freak is what you are! Welcome to my show! We're all mad here!"