Night of the CarnEVIL Part 2

The last time we saw the Gunslinger, he was investigating some strange occurrences occurring in a small coastal town. Unlike others, he thought the new carnival in town might be worth investigating. After encountering a spectral carney, the Gunslinger is treated to a nostalgic show, but not everything is what it seems…

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The Beard Master draws closer to the Gunslinger, confident that he has him in his thrall. The snakes that writhe from the monster's face slowly contort their way to the Gunslinger’s. It had been such a long time since he had allowed his beard to feed. The Gunslinger continues to stand, entranced by the Beard Master’s hypnotic spectacle. 

Suddenly, as the first snake coils to strike the Gunslinger, the Gunslinger’s eye snaps to attention, reacting to the imminent threat. Despite the Gunslinger’s incapacitation, his mechanical eye is still able to interpret the threat and signal the Gunslinger’s arm to subconsciously react. Resulting in his hand drawing his pistol and…

*BANG BANG BANG*

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The Gunslinger is shaken from his stupor face to face with an enraged Beard Master three smoking tendrils hanging limply from his beard. The rest of the serpents flail wildly, agitated by the death of their brethren.

The Gunslinger stumbles backward, drawing his other six-gun and firing at the Beard Master. He strikes several more tendrils and the Beard Master roars. The Beard Master swings his cane, swiping one of the pistols from the Gunslinger’s hand. The Gunslinger draws his hand back grimacing in pain. He reaches around his back, grabbing his lever-action rifle. The Beard Master sees this and runs out the back of the tent.

The Gunslinger follows, sliding under the tent canvas. He slides back to his feet, rifle butt snapping snuggly to his shoulder and scanning his surroundings. His bionic eye clicks, turning an emerald green color, granting the Gunslinger night vision.

“Strange,” thinks the Gunslinger to himself, “I don’t remember these tents looking so run down.”

He turns looking around for any trace of the strange beings he’s seen this night. Behind him, from out of the shadow, he hears a quiet hiss. Suddenly, he feels the sting of a bite on his shoulder. The Gunslinger whips around and levels his rifle, finding nothing behind him. The sound could almost be chalked up to a figment of the Gunslinger’s imagination, if not for the throbbing pain in his shoulder. 

The Gunslinger knows the snake bite could mean trouble if not treated quickly. Not wanting to break off the pursuit, but needing medical attention, the Gunslinger begins to make his way back to the turnstiles. The Gunslinger walks carefully down the midway, covering himself searching every corner of darkness for the master of the carnival.

The sky begins to lighten as night transitions to day. The Gunslinger takes one last look around the park. He swears he sees movement in a shadow, but with his pulse pounding in his head, finally makes his way to the turnstile, gingerly sliding over. The sun peeks out from over the water, bathing the boardwalk in light as the Gunslinger walks away. He’s unsure if it’s delirium from the bite or waning spirits from the spectral carnival, but he could swear he heard the voice of a Carney on the breeze.

“Thank you one, thank you all… be sure to come again next year…”

Narrated by Brandon Warner