Night of the Creepy Carnival Read online

  About the Book

  You are excited to check out the new carnival in town. But as soon as you arrive, the creepy clowns catch your eye. You know something weird is going on, but are you brave enough to follow them? There’s so much more to explore, especially the freak show tent with its disturbing display cases …

  Will you defeat the evil clowns or lose yourself in the carnival’s strange attractions?

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  You Choose 5: Night of the Creepy Carnival

  Collect them all

  About the Author

  Copyright Notice

  Loved the book?

  For my friend Michael McGoldrick, the real Wonder Llama

  – G.I.

  The clowns march past you. They are not funny – not even a little bit. They are creepy!

  The lead clown glares at you as he moves through the carnival grounds in the twilight. His dark eyes look evil, rimmed with pale blue and set deep in his stark white face. He grins, his exaggerated red mouth looking weird. His nose is also red, but misshapen rather than the traditional round clown nose. It looks like a lump of plasticine that’s been hammered into a vague nose-shape. Tufts of frizzy red hair poke out from under a conical blue hat.

  He touches a white forefinger to his temple in a strange mix of salute and wave, as he turns and marches off.

  The other clowns follow him in single file, dressed identically in baggy blue polka-dot outfits, but without hats. There are seven of them. Their red mouths are down-turned, making them look sad, and their eyes are glazed. They march as if in a trance.

  Your mum shivers as she watches them.

  ‘I don’t like clowns,’ your dad says, his eyes quickly moving to the other carnival attractions. ‘Look over there! There’s a sign that says WONDER LLAMA. Let’s check it out.’

  ‘I’d rather go see the hypnotist,’ says your mum, pointing in the opposite direction.

  You gaze around at the carnival, its coloured lights making bright splashes in the darkening evening. The Freak Show tent catches your eye momentarily, but you’re drawn to the clowns. The last clown looks back at you over his shoulder and mouths a word. Was it HELP?

  Your mum and dad move in opposite directions.

  If you want to see the Wonder Llama with your dad, go here.

  If you want to see the hypnotist with your mum, go here.

  If you’ d rather go off on your own to the Freak Show, go here.

  Or you could follow the clowns. Maybe that last clown was asking for your help. Go here.

  You go with your dad to the Wonder Llama tent. A man in a shabby safari suit steps out and starts calling:

  ‘Roll up! Roll up! Come and see the greatest spectacle of the animal kingdom. Michael the Wonder Llama!’

  A few people enter the tent. The man looks hopefully at you and your dad.

  Michael? The llama’s name is Michael? It sounds a bit lame. Maybe there are better things to do at the carnival?

  Your dad goes into the tent. Do you follow?

  Perhaps you’ d be better off going with your mum to see the hypnotist? Go here.

  Or you could go to the Freak Show on your own? Go here.

  But your dad’s already inside. You should probably go after him. Go here.

  You go with your mum to see the hypnotist.

  There is an image of a large eye above the tent flap. You feel like it’s watching you as you enter.

  It’s a medium-sized tent with about twenty chairs set up in front of a makeshift stage. You and your mum get seats in the front row.

  A man walks up onto the stage. He’s ordinary-looking, wearing brown pants and a cardigan. But then he turns to face the audience and you see his eyes.

  Dark blue and wide – too wide. His pupils are large.

  ‘G’day, everyone,’ he says in a broad Australian accent. ‘Me name’s Bruce. Thanks for comin’ to me show. Now, to get the ball rollin’ I need me a volunteer from the audience. Any of youse up for it?’

  Your mum nudges you with her elbow. ‘Go on,’ she says. ‘Why don’t you volunteer? It’ll be fun.’

  You’re not sure that it will be fun. You look around. No one else has put their hand up. In fact, everyone seems to be looking at you. Your mum nudges you again, a little more insistently.

  If you put your hand up and volunteer, go here.

  If you think it would be better to stay put, go here.

  You head for the Freak Show. It’s a medium-sized tent with an old faded sign.

  You pull back the tent flap and peer into the gloom. There are a dozen or so display cases positioned inside. There are no people.

  You step into the tent and are immediately hit with an odd musty smell. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. You’re about to leave when a woman appears from behind one of the display cases.

  ‘Come to see Grizelda’s babies?’ she asks in a gravelly voice, looking at you from under an explosion of dirty, matted hair. ‘Grizelda’s love-ely freaks.’

  She scuttles towards one of the displays, her mismatched array of old clothes making her look like a bundle of rags.

  ‘This here is Barnabas,’ she says, pointing to the display case. ‘Grizelda’s love-ely Barnabas.’

  You step forward and peer through the glass. It’s just a mouse scurrying around. What’s so special about that?

  ‘Look closer,’ murmurs Grizelda.

  You do. And then you jump back in shock.

  The mouse has two heads.

  You look around at the other display cases, wondering what’s in each of them. Then you notice a pair of eyes glaring at you from the far case. It’s a little shrivelled head, dangling from a piece of string like a grotesque Christmas tree ornament.

  ‘I see you’ve caught Mr Montgomery’s eye.’ She beckons you over to the far display case. ‘He’s very special, is Grizelda’s love-ely Mr Montgomery. It’s not often he takes a liking to strangers. Come, take a closer look.’

  You’re a little creeped out by Grizelda, Mr Montgomery and this whole Freak Show. Do you really want to go any nearer?

  If you would like a closer look, go here.

  If you would rather leave, go here.

  You decide to follow the clowns. Something about them isn’t right and you want to find out what it is.

  They march in perfect unison along a path formed by rows of tents and booths. As they move through the crowd of carnival-goers, the lead clown smiles and waves. But people shy away, looking frightened rather than entertained.

  You hang back as the clowns stop abruptly. The lead clown points towards the dark space between the carnival tents on either side of him. Four clowns break ranks and disappear into the darkness, following the lead clown’s unspoken command.

  The remaining clowns move on through the carnival. You follow.

  The lead clown produces four balls and starts juggling as he marches on.

  Reaching the final tent, the lead clown throws a ball high into the air over his shoulder before the other clowns follow him into the darkness beyond that last tent.

  The ball lands at your feet. You jump back with a little gasp and stare at it. The ball bursts into a puff of smoke and you jump again. Looking up, you see that ahead of you is the fortune teller’s tent.

  If you want to continue following the clowns, go here.

  If you’ d rather have your fortune read, go here.

  You follow your dad into the tent.

  At the far end, on the straw-covered ground, stands a tawny llama, surrounded by partially eaten apples. The llama is completely still, unblinking. You wonder if it is real or j
ust some stuffed animal.

  You take a few steps towards it. The llama’s eyes move to follow you.

  So it is real!

  The man in the safari suit comes in, introducing himself to the spectators as the llama-wrangler.

  ‘Now, prepare yourselves to see something truly wondrous,’ he says, coming to stand beside the llama.

  The llama continues to stand there … doing nothing.

  You joke out loud about it being a Lame Llama rather than a Wonder Llama.

  ‘Don’t make him angry,’ warns the llama-wrangler. ‘You wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.’

  You laugh, and poke your tongue out at the animal.

  The llama spits at you.

  A green glob of mucus hits you on the cheek. You stagger back and fall to the ground.

  ‘I warned you,’ says the llama-wrangler. ‘Now you better apologise.’

  Apologise to a llama? You’d rather throw something at it. Your hand brushes one of the apples.

  Do you want to throw an apple at the llama? Go here.

  But maybe it would be safer to apologise. Go here.

  You tentatively raise your hand.

  ‘Bonza!’ says Bruce, the hypnotist. ‘Jump up here on stage.’

  You get on the stage, and he gently takes you by the shoulders, looks into your eyes and starts talking in his soft voice.

  ‘Now then, all you need to do is look into me eyes and listen to me voice. Empty your mind and listen. Don’t worry about nothin’.’

  Bruce’s pupils seem to expand. His eyes fill your vision. His voice fills your mind.

  ‘Now, how’s about I make you cluck like a chook?’

  Your mind fogs over. Your vision blurs. You hear whispering voices and clucking sounds. Someone laughs. You can’t think. You can’t focus. You’re not sure where you are. All you know is that you need to make a choice – but you don’t know what about.

  Go here.

  Or perhaps go here.

  You don’t like the idea of someone playing with your mind, so you don’t raise your hand.

  ‘Aw, come on,’ says the hypnotist, looking out at the audience. ‘No volunteer, no show.’

  Your mum elbows you.

  You shake your head and fold your arms.

  Your mum lets out a theatrical sigh and sticks up her hand.

  ‘Bonza!’ says Bruce. ‘Jump up here on stage.’

  Bruce gently takes her by the shoulders, looks into her eyes and starts talking in his gentle voice.

  ‘Now then, all you need to do is look into me eyes and listen to me voice. Empty your mind and listen. Don’t worry about nothin’.’

  Your mum’s eyes glaze over.

  ‘Now, how’s about singing Mary Had a Little Lamb?’ Then he leans in and whispers something in her ear. You wonder what he’s saying.

  Bruce snaps his fingers and your mum blinks and shakes her head.

  ‘Now then,’ says Bruce, ‘time to … sing!’

  Your mum starts singing Mary Had a Little Lamb, and the audience bursts into laughter and applause. Bruce has no shortage of volunteers after that.

  At the end of the show, you and your mum go to meet your dad. You manage to slip the word ‘sing’ into the conversation and your mum breaks into Mary Had a Little Lamb.

  She’s not happy about that. But you think this could be fun.

  If you’ d like to make your mum sing again, repeatedly, go here.

  But if you think it might be more fun to check out the Freak Show you noticed earlier, go here.

  It couldn’t hurt to take a closer look … could it?

  You approach the display case and realise that it’s open.

  Mr Montgomery is like an oversized prune with wispy white hair and goggling eyes. You stare at the eyes. They are mesmerising.

  The shrunken head is whispering to you in hushed, raspy tones. But you can’t quite make out what he’s saying.

  You edge closer. You reach out, feeling the urge to pat the head.

  ‘He likes a good scratch behind the ears, he does,’ says Grizelda, her grin revealing yellow teeth.

  You’re not sure if you’re more revolted by Grizelda or Mr Montgomery. Either way, should you really be touching a speaking shrunken head in a carnival Freak Show?

  Perhaps it’s best not to pat the head. Go here.

  But, then again, what harm could it do? If you want to touch Mr Montgomery, go here.

  You pull your hand back and turn to go. ‘Wait,’ shrieks Grizelda, lunging at you and grasping your arm.

  You try to pull away, but she’s surprisingly strong. She pushes you towards the display case and stretches your arm out so that it’s closer to the shrunken head.

  ‘Mr Montgomery needs a scratch,’ she cackles, forcing your hand to the gruesome display. ‘And Grizelda needs a new baby. Grizelda needs a love-ely new display.’

  Mr Montgomery grins, revealing perfect white teeth. He snaps at you.

  Rather than resisting Grizelda, you push forward, knocking her into the case.

  The case topples.

  Mr Montgomery’s string snaps.

  The head hits the floor and bounces up at Grizelda, biting her on the nose.

  Grizelda shrieks and stiffens, her skin turning grey and hard like a petrified tree. Her eyes roll in their sockets to look at you, then freeze, never to move again.

  The shrunken head falls to the floor and rolls towards you, teeth snapping.

  You race out of the tent and stand panting in the carnival grounds. This Freak Show really has freaked you out!

  Go here.

  Pain flares up your arm.

  Grizelda cackles loudly.

  ‘Join us,’ murmurs Mr Montgomery.

  You feel a stiffness travel along your body, as if the blood in your veins is slowly being replaced with cement.

  ‘Grizelda needs one more baby,’ says the old woman. ‘One more love-ely display for the Freak Show. A perfectly petrified person.’

  You open your mouth to scream. But your vocal cords have already hardened.

  ‘Grizelda has a display case all ready. Welcome to the carnival, my love-ely.’

  Your eyes look to Grizelda. It’s the last movement you will ever make.

  You simply have to know what makes this llama so special. You stay in the tent and watch the animal.

  ‘The act is over,’ says the llama-wrangler, as he too leaves the tent.

  But you stay. You watch the animal intently, never taking your eyes off it.

  The llama stays right where it is, unmoving.

  It stares at you. You stare at it.

  You lose track of time.

  Eventually your dad comes back. ‘Time to go,’ he announces. ‘The carnival is closing.’

  What? Closing? You missed the whole thing!

  You follow your dad out of the tent. As you walk out, you’re sure you can hear the Wonder Llama laughing at you.

  You scoop up an apple and throw it at the llama.

  The animal ducks. The spectators laugh.

  You scrabble around on the floor, grab another apple and lob it.

  The llama ducks. Again, the spectators laugh – including your dad.

  You grab a third apple, but before you can throw it, the llama spits at you. This time its saliva hits you right in the eye.

  You scream and clutch at your eye – it feels like it’s burning!

  Your dad rushes to your side and picks you up. As he carries you out of the tent you catch a final glimpse of the llama through your good eye. It’s grinning at you.

  You are taken to the hospital, where your eye is held open with a little metal clamp while you are given an injection into the eyeball.

  On the drive home you hear a report about the incident on the radio.

  ‘Michael the Wonder Llama, the star carnival attraction, was attacked today,’ says the reporter. ‘In an unprovoked assault, a hostile youth threw apples at the poor defenceless animal. The onlookers were traumatised!’
r />   You are forever branded a ‘hostile youth’ and attacker of defenceless llamas.

  Your mind clears and you realise you’re still up onstage with Bruce. He’s smiling at you. The audience is laughing.

  ‘How are you feelin’?’ asks Bruce. ‘Ready to perform?’

  He doesn’t wait for you to answer. He snaps his fingers.

  You open your mouth and start clucking. You cluck, louder and louder. You lift your arms to make flapping motions. You squat down and make scratching movements with your feet.

  You try to stop yourself but can’t. It’s as if someone has taken control of you, operating you like a puppet – a puppet chicken!

  You look out into the audience as you cluck. They are all still laughing.

  Bruce clicks his fingers again and you stop. Mortified, you run from the stage and out of the tent.

  You see your dad leaving the Wonder Llama tent and run over to him. As you try to explain what just happened, your mum comes up behind you and snaps her fingers.

  And you’re clucking like a chicken again.

  Your mum and dad are laughing. So are random passers-by. You’re scratching at the ground with your feet when you spot a worm. A big fat juicy worm. You can’t help yourself. You lunge at it.

  Your mum, still laughing, snaps her fingers again and you regain control. You stop chewing and spit out the worm, horrified at what you’ve done.

  ‘This is going to happen every time we snap our fingers,’ says your mum, still chuckling.