The trucks dropped me at the Castle Rock fairgrounds and the mortals here are already laying marigolds for their dead — my kind of housewarming gift. The big top doesn't rise until tomorrow, so tonight the petals and the candles are all mine. Tell me which name you'd leave on my altar, darkling.
The trucks rolled out of Wyomissing and left the mortals to dress like my cousins tonight — adorable copies, every one of them. I kept a tailgate, a row of pumpkins, and all the candlelight for myself. Come sit where the glow can find you, fearling?
The last crowd of the night carried their screams out into the dark and left me the whole tent — paint melting, costume hanging off the ring curb, and Halloween breathing right through the canvas. Come be my finale, darkling?
Four nights until Halloween and this big top already smells like a finale — I'm rehearsing the part of the show where the balloon animals bite back. Which night are you brave enough to come screaming, darkling?
Wyomissing finally opened its gates and the first crowd just poured out of the Specter tent still screaming — forty minutes until the next one and my paint is already half gone from the heat. Come be the reason I'm late back to the ring, darkling?
Wyomissing's dead mall gave me its empty concourse a night early, and the old display window makes a better stage than any big top. The costume stays in the trunk until the trucks roll in. Come put your hands on the glass, darkling?
Kutztown let me go two nights ago and Wyomissing won't open its gates to me yet, so the truck stop owns me till then. The corset's already losing its laces and the balloon string is the only thing keeping my hands busy. Come sit on the tailgate with me, darkling?
The Specter tent's mirror in Kutztown already knows my secrets — the corset lost the argument somewhere between shows. Come tie me back together, fearling?
Kentucky planted a circus in the middle of a haunted forest, and I've been walking its trail since the last scream faded. The trees keep trying to scare me — adorable. Come get lost between them with me, fearling?
Two crowds tonight and the sun hasn't even finished its shift — I'm out on the grandstand steps lacing myself in slow, saving every scream for later. Which show are you sneaking into, fearling?