werewolvesversus:

In Chris Pearce’s story for WEREWOLVES VERSUS: THE CIRCUS, masked revellers arrive in Ellenora’s town to celebrate a great many things. Will she resist the temptations of their dangerous jollity?

The masquers came to us under an autumn moon, a harvest moon, a moon that shone like a bonfire flame, flickering strange shadows upon our doors. They all hid their faces: masks polished white and black in perfect balance, day and night cast in battle against one another; masks of crescent grins and empty stares; masks inlaid with gold polished smooth as a mirror–just a glance and you could see yourself painted upon them. But most of all they wore masks like wolves’ heads, masks of toothy grins and lopping tongues, fur carved from marble so fine that it seemed to prickle as the breathed, masks sewn so tightly it was as if they were growing out of their skin.

They juggled and they danced; they sang and howled and revelled as we watched them from our windows, wondering what had brought them to us on this cold autumn night. One of them did card tricks outside of my window, ripping the Weeping Lady to pieces with his teeth and then swallowing them up entirely before coughing them back up again, somehow wholly restored. I looked away when he leered at me, his mouth splitting into a wide smile, his tongue rolling down across his chin.

“Who are you?” cried out my father from a crack in our door. I grabbed him by his shoulder but he ignored me, swatting my hand away and continuing to stare at the men in the street. One of the crowd turned to answer him; his mask covered his entire face like it had been carved out of a single piece of ivory, a hungry smile sketched out in bone–and yet his voice was as bright and as clear as the dawn.

“We,” began the man, flourishing into a deep bow before looking up at no one in particular, “are the Fingers of the Moone. The Brotherhood of the Howl. The Humble Servants. We are here for your delight. We are here for your sorrow. We are here to learn your stories, and for you to learn ours. We are–”

“We are here for a party!” shouted one of the mummers behind him as he threw his arm around the man who must have been the Fingers’ grandmaster.

“Indeed, we are! We hope that you will forgive our nearly tardy arrival. Our patroness will soon reveal her face in the night and then all masks will be cast aside. But until then–please, join us! There is so much to know before night falls upon all of us!”

My father scowled as the men cavorted and we both watched as our fellow townsfolk emptied out of their homes, joining the newcomers. “Such nonsense,” he said, shutting the door and drawing our drapes tight. He glanced at me as he returned to his bedchamber, dousing his candles and he did, leaving me in the darkness.

Read the rest in WEREWOLVES VERSUS: THE CIRCUS! Download the entire issue for any price on Gumroad or Itch.io! Your purchase will benefit all of the contributors to this issue.