Carousel by Jordan L. Hawk

Author:Jordan L. Hawk [Hawk, Jordan L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, Paranormal, short story, Historical, Victorian, whybourne, widdershins
Publisher: Jordan L. Hawk
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

V.

They rose slowly, jerkily, like giant marionettes but without strings to pull. Their faces, frozen in joyful smiles, turned slowly to us.

I fired, sending wood chips flying everywhere. The automaton I’d shot didn’t seem to notice.

“Griffin!” Whyborne cried.

I spun around in time to see the carver lunging toward us with the chisel upraised like a weapon. Acting on instinct, I fired a second time. He proved far more vulnerable to the bullet than his creation. The chisel fell to the ground, and he went to his knees before collapsing altogether.

To my dismay, whatever magic infused the automata seemed to operate independently of the sorcerer’s life, because they continued to stagger forward, arms raised to grasp us.

“I’ll draw them off,” Whyborne said. “You save the boy.”

Before I could object, he snatched up a can of mineral spirits from the workbench. “Here, over here!” he shouted. “It’s me you want!”

His cries seemed to gather their attention, because they both turned toward him. They moved quite a bit faster now than at first, like men who’d woken from a long sleep and shaken the blood back into their limbs.

Whyborne ran out the workshop door, the unholy creatures following behind.

Damn it! I wanted to rush after him, but he was right—Reggie had to be my priority. I ran to the child, scuffing the chalk circle and kicking over one of the candles for good measure. The blue glow vanished.

Dropping to my knees, I pressed my finger to the boy’s neck. Although his skin felt chilled, his pulse beat strong.

I couldn’t leave him here, even with the old carver dead. What if something else came to life? Cursing silently, I stripped off my coat and bundled it around him before heaving his limp body over my shoulder. A small hand ax on the workbench caught my eye, and I snatched it up before leaving.

The tracks of Whyborne and his pursuers led straight to the gate to the midway. I ran to one of the deserted stalls, laying Reggie down behind the counter where he’d be concealed from any casual glance. Then, steeling myself, I ran for the carousel.

The light of Whyborne’s lantern flickered through the open shutter. Gripping the ax tightly, I plunged inside.

A wooden hand grasped my arm in an implacable grip, spinning me around and into one of the horses. I shouted and chopped wildly, not certain if I meant to strike the hand gripping me or the horse. The blade bit into nothing but air.

“Griffin!” Whyborne cried.

The automaton loomed over me, its smiling face horrible in its immobile joy. I swung the ax again, bringing it down hard on its wrist this time. There came a solid thunk, but its grip didn’t slacken.

Blast!

I kicked one of its jointed knees as hard as I could. It stumbled, but instead of letting go, it reached for my ax with its other hand.

Then Whyborne was there, bashing at it with the can of mineral spirits. I reapplied my ax, and a moment later its hand came off altogether.

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