Paradox Chapter One: The More Things Change...

[Overcast]

The freak show marched on, even with the odd drug addled zombie that stumbled along nearby. Riley was barely able to keep up with the organized march of the freaks, different monstrosities limping along under overenthusiastic whip cracks and the music that in his ears sounded strange and twisted.

Then something strange.

More strange than just seeing a freak show marching down. More strange then the sensation that had itched him before that his concussion had knocked right out of his head. He could have sworn he saw Fiend slithering along with the freaks. It wasn't an isolated incident, every closet freak in the crowds caught flashes out of the corner of their eyes, images of their less favorable counterparts skulking in the show. Then a voice, through loudspeaker, called out to the crowd, the speech resonating in a different tone for those special someones,

"Come one, come all to the Circus of Dreams! What images haunt us in sleeping have been sampled and taken by our ringmaster Morpheus, from the beauty of your lost subconscious, to the monsters that haunt your nightmares. Come experience a world beyond your imagining, all are welcome to the Circus of Dreams."

His voice seemed to creep to you, beyond the loudspeaker, into your head. Inviting you come, be accepted, learn the reasons for your nightmares. The speakered wagon passed on by, closed shut so no peeping eyes could see the ringmaster himself. Morpheus. But without a doubt all of you could feel it, more than any other freak here, that feeling of just what he was.

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The wait at the police station hadn't been very long. The station as a whole may have had a lot of things to worry about, but nearly everyone wanted to see this epidemic shut down. It was bad for their image, bad for their funding, and just plain bad. Corrupt cop or pure this hit you in all the wrong places. Nobody was going to slow this down for the world,

"Miss Prochainezo, Mister Sorensen, thank you for coming in today."

The centerpiece of the case at the time was the man being forced on nearly every lead they got, Detective Nearstaph, who looked just as he did the first time the two of him had seen him. If just a bit more ragged. No man in the station would want to be in his place, seeing the things he was forced to on a daily basis, or moreover trying to make sense of the mess of evidence that seemed to point to absolutely no one,

"I'm only going to be able to show you the lineup one at a time, do either of you have a preference of who would like to go first?"


((Mostly just getting my bearings in, and checking on who is still around. I figure most of the responses, short of Ifrit, will be rather easy. Follow the freak show to the big top, say you want to wait in the waiting room or hit the lineup. Start eating people. You know the routine. Just give me a little something so I know you are still alive.))

[The Artist Formerly Known as Hawk]

James felt numb. It was as if all the nerve endings in his body had shut down from shock, and were only just now starting to come back to life. The pain of transformation was like that he guessed. It had been over two hours since he had turned back into himself, since he had sated the beasts appetite with the raw meat he had laid out for it.

His plan had worked it seemed. Ifrit had fed, then it had found the scent of more food and had followed the trail James had left for it. Around and around in a circle, never straying beyond, but getting more angry the longer it went without finding the meal it had scented. And then somehow, it had happened, James had managed to reassert himself, to take back control of the instincts driving his body. He had transformed back, his hunger somewhat dimished, but still not entirely gone. Never the less, it had worked, he had controlled it, fed it. With time he had thought, maybe he could learn to fully control it, perhaps even prevent it outright. It was the slimmest hope, but hope none the less.

Now he was driving back into town, the sky growing dark as night began to fall. He shifted down a gear and slowed as traffic started to build up ahead and thought idly about going back into work tomorrow, getting his life back on track again. He'd been calling in sick the past three days, too afriad to show his face unless he accidentally changed and killed someone, but with the hunger lessened and the renewed hope that he could beat this thing, he felt it was safe again. Besides, he needed money in order to live at all.

Why isn't this traffic moving yet?, he though impatiently, craning his neck to see ahead. He could see a crowd ahead, and a traffic warden directing cars away down a side road. Ah, damn circus of course. He'd forgotten about that until now, forgotten the odd feelings of concern he'd had only a few hours earlier when the parade had passed by. He'd felt something odd then, something which had made his monster self recoil and snarl, as if afraid. Or trying to warn me, James realised. Was there something about the circus in town tonight that the monster could sense? It was a stupid thought, preposterous, but still...

Traffic was moving again now and James pulled away slowly, following the diversion down a side street. That nagging sense of something wrong came back to him again, knawing at his mind. It wouldn't hurt to make sure, would it? James began looking for a parking space. At the very least he could check it out...

[Girasol of Chaos]

Beatrice paused in front of the museum as she passed it. A sense of mixed curiosity and dread prevailed, so she continued past with little more than a mental note. Perhaps tomorrow she would return to town and visit it. Anything to distract her from the loud, obnoxious circus. Even now as dusk reddened the sky the traffic in the small city was choked with people wanting to see the freak show. Hah, they'll fall for cheap parlor tricks as the real beasts lurk among them. There was an odd sense of pride in that thought. She tried not to dwell on it.

Crossing the traffic she noted the faces of the populace trapped in their vehicles. Most were excited, curious and lively. Beatrice noted with comfort that she wasn't the only one who seemed annoyed at the presence of the entertainment troupe in town. One pale man in particular, face framed with black overgrown hair, appeared to be in a state of cautious alarm. Yeah, I hope it leaves soon too dude.

Night had long fallen by the time she arrived back at her residence. Tired, sore and weary, the young woman sealed her retreat and turned on the only lamp in the basement. She was fortunate enough to be able to leech electricity from her neighbors, and limited herself so no one would notice. Content that to the outside world this small haven didn't appear to exist, Bea relaxed. Stripping herself of her shirt, she inspected herself. Her battle had left her mostly bruised, but some of the needles had messily retracted from her skin, and the wounds started to show sign of infection. With surgical precision, Beatrice opened up each puncture and treated it. Her voice kept her company until she was satisfied with her handiwork and settled down to sleep.

[Riin Whitewind]

"It is good to see you again, Detective." Rawli smiled, ignoring the stilted pronounciation of her surname. The good Detective had been very kind, one of the few who hadn't pretended 'the accident' hadn't happened as soon as she was out of the hospital.

"If it does not bother Mr. Sorensen, I would like to go second." She freed a shaking hand from her coat pocket to gesture at the pale figure near her. He didn't look well, in fact - he looked drained. Like he had lost a lot of weight and color recently. Rawli couldn't see that they looked rather alike in that respect.

"With my memory, I would not want to take up too much of his time." Each word was spoken carefully, measured and given the weight of respect. Almost everyone on Rawli's block spoke of how overworked Detective Nearstaph was - the cases he was working on made for excellent gossip among the wives, even if they ignored that she was in any way involved.

"I would like to wait outside, if that is alright?" Patting the packet of cigarettes through the coat's breastpocket, she continued, "I was hoping to have a smoke before we began."

[lazy man]

"I'm only going to be able to show you the lineup one at a time, do either of you have a preference of who would like to go first?" Ryan took a breath and tried to say something, but could barely work up to will to exhale, let alone talk.

"If it does not bother Mr. Sorensen, I would like to go second."

Ryan hadn't even gotten through with what to say, but this "Miss Prochainezo" had managed to get a word in before him. Many of them, in fact. Despite the fact that her hand was shaking so much and her face was probably just as pale as his. And before he could process that she was already planning on heading outside.

"Great, can't even get my act together.," Ryan thought before taking a deep breath and a couple seconds to get his head on straight.

"I don't mind. The sooner I do this the sooner I get to go home, right?"

[Astral Harmony]

Kaitlyn Wales had found her way out of the circus and into a nearby convenience store, where she looked around and picked up a few snack items despite not really wanting anything to eat. Maybe subcontiously she was hoping to feed her other self with something that didn't bleed and scream.
Relaxing near her van, Kaitlyn frowned. "I guess I couldn't do it, after all," she said to herself, feeling disheartened and angry with herself.

She knew it all along. Trying to find out about Mawface was certain to put her life in danger, but if she avoided confrontation, then what? She remains ignorant of it all, maybe even of learning about a cure, and then just lives her life gruesome murder after gruesome murder?
Maybe her second victim deserved to die. Kaitlyn absolutely hated rapists. They were worse in her mind than simply murderers. At least a murderer ended your life. A rapist would turn your conscious existence into a ever living nightmare.
But Jeffery didn't deserve to die. He was one of the nicest guys Kaitlyn had ever known and she was prepared to spend the rest of her life with him. Kaitlyn balled her fists until her knuckles were white. "I have to do this. Mawface is not something I can live with. Not after what happened. I can't just dick around and try to find some absurd happy medium."

Then it hit her. Kaitlyn was nearly floored by the impact from within. Kaitlyn's desperate eyes darted this way and that for a place to hide. Then, she broke out into a full on sprint.

[Overcast]

"Right."

The detective let Mr. Sorensen pick himself up. He looked ragged, tired, pained. Which made he and Nearstaph a matching pair of awful for everyone to see passing. It gave off the impression of the kind of horror was running in this case, even if both men had separate reasons as to why they were as sour as rancid milk.

They walked together past the watchmen that kept the boundaries between what was public access and private evidence. They stepped into a room, looking over a white wall with various height markers behind a two way mirror,

"Alright Mr. Sorensen, we'll bring in a group of men and all you have to do is identify one if he looks like what you may have seen. None of them can see you and none will ever know you were even here. So feel free to choose with absolute confidence that you are safe."

The typical words of confidence, Nearstaph didn't know that none of these men would be what Sorensen saw, after all none of these men were Sorensen, but if he had to identify a cannibal murderer he'd like to know the man could never retaliate.

The lineup walked in, and at first there was nothing, but as Ryan stared at them he started to get a feeling. An itching sickening paranoia waving off from one of them. If Ryan knew what that meant was still blunt, but the man in the room did.

There was a Paradox nearby.

The man stopped in his tracks, staring into the mirror with wide eyes, right at Ryan. He grinned in a way that made anyone feel like something was wrong. Nearstaph was starting to feel like they should save this, that the man's eyes were far too accurate. But it was too late. Things started lifting from there,

"I can feel you." The man said staring into the mirror, stepping out of line, one of the officers started moving to get him, grabbing him and trying to force him back into the lineup, "You're like me. You know it. I've been waiting. Waiting for another to come and take me." His eyes seemed filled with exaltation, sure as shit sending Nearstaph to try to get Ryan out of here, "Come. Come brother. Let your beast out. Let us show them our power. They are nothing compared to us. Give in to the hunger."

The sick feeling in Ryan's head pulsed, his hunger wrenching at him harder than ever before,

"GIVE IN."

[lazy man]

Ryan felt something squirm in his head the moment the lineup entered the room. He didn't know what it was, but then one of the men stared straight through the glass at him, and he could finally tell what was going on, what this sick feeling was.

The beast inside of him was feeling threatened. And it wanted out if only to defend itself. Ryan didn't know how he understood that much, but it didn't care about feeding right now. And the more this... thing talked to him, the closer he got, the more the demon inside of Ryan began to tear at Ryan's control.

If Nearstaph looked at Ryan while all of this was going on, he only would have seen someone who looked so petrified that they were frozen stiff. Ryan's eyes were wide, his skin was somehow paler than it was before and his breathing was getting heavy. If anything he looked even more like he belonged in the hospital.

"GIVE IN."

With those words something clicked inside Ryan's head and he could feel the beast begin to take hold. He could feel an electric charge start to build in his body, and he doubled over in pain as it slowly grew in intensity.

"Detective... get... out... noooaaaAAAAAAAAA!!" Ryan barely managed to get out before he started to transform, his body lengthening and his flesh hardening while arcs of electricity shot off into the air.

A lightning storm was about to hit the police station, and the results wouldn't be pretty in the slightest.

[Overcast]

Nearstaph stared shocked as the pale ragged man shifted violently into the the deadly thunder lizard. He backed himself up against the wall trying to keep his composure, but fuck all if you weren't scared out of your wits when someone turned into something like that. He backed up for the door in a hurry as the officers started responding.

But not a one of them were trained in something like this, for a minute all they could do was stare, then one took the initiative and shot at it, and soon they all were.

A mistake they wouldn't make twice.

In the lineup room there was nothing, in the spur of the moment that man had changed. The door torn off its hinges and no corpses left to speak of. But blood, there was plenty of blood.

[Riin Whitewind]

Eyes screwed shut against the pain of a migrane, Rawli leaned against the sturdy concrete of the wall. Unlit cigarette perched precariously between her lips, she pressed a shaking hand to her forehead. The migrane had come on so quickly, she barely made it around the corner of the building before she threw up bile.

Rawli couldn't know that the pressure, which squirmed through her head like a living thing, was merely trumpeting the presence of another Paradox. Something inside her knew. A part of her that she had beaten down, starved, and then ignored. Forgot what occurred during 'the accident', so that she might never have to face herself.

But how could she truely forget? When the mere mention of food brought such swift, unexplained nausea? The doctor at the hospital was confident that the nausea would pass in time, once Rawli had a chance to recover. She had wondered then how he could be so confident, postive that he was putting on a false mask of surety to instill some hope in her.

Doubling over in pain, Rawli fell to her hands and knees. Sheilded by the partial corner of the building, she stared numbly at the cement between her palms. A second passed, bringing an image of two pairs of eyes surrounded by darkness. Another, as gunfire ripped through the quiet night air, glimpsed the baring of teeth. Any further sharp crack of gunshots from inside the building were covered by her screams as the beast within her sprung free.

---

Blood dripping from both sets of jaws, Grin stood blocking the street outside of the police station. Under one of its huge, stone paws lay the hood of a crushed cruiser, as one of its heads jerked the door off the driver's side with quick, snapping movements. Behind it lay the detrious of other cars, crushed and mangled in a similar fashion. Bright red lay splattered over the street, pooling underneath most of the cars.

Once that obstacle was out of the way, the second head snaked forward, crushing the uniformed officer between long, granite teeth. She screamed, pain and terror quickly voiding any courage she might have posessed. Still buckled into her seat, the officer was pulled against the seatbelt as Grin strained to drag its prize from the hard shell.

Seeing an opportunity, both heads took a grip on the little morsel, teeth sinking into her legs and chest. Both pulled as one, a sickening crack of bones and tearing of flesh as the officer came apart, cut into sections by the safety belt designed to save her. Its long, heavy tail curling around to the side, Grin lay on its stomach to better reach the mutilated flesh inside the vehicle. This hunt, the joy of meat and flesh, had been denied too long.

Satisfied for the moment, the stone guardian sat up, bringing the second story of the police station to eye level. Scattered gunfire still cracked from the station near it, but the sound was far too few and far between - the tide of this battle had clearly ebbed. Curious to see the victor, Grin prepared to lay in wait by the corner of the building. Blood and saliva dripped, pooling and mingling with a forgotten cigarette and bile as it waited.