To Catch A Breath

By James Suriano

In this collection of tantalizingly weird fiction, acclaimed author James Suriano makes what seems innocent wicked and what seems strange sinister.

In the opening story, “Carter Delight,” a teenage boy faces his fears as he wanders into an abandoned carnival, only to find three malevolent beings have taken up residence where frivolity once lived. In “Lathia’s Gun,” a tattoo artist unknowingly opens the door to a magical but dangerous realm when she inks college students late into the night. And in “The Towers,” the obsessions and vulnerabilities of asylum residents are a magnet for one of hell’s most powerful demons. Each of the twelve stories asks a question we might not want to answer: what evil lurks in all of us?

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Suriano
• Release date: Aug 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370671878

James Suriano

James grew up in New York and was educated at Johns Hopkins University. He currently lives in Fort Lauderdale, FL and writes speculative and book club fiction in his spare time.He loves to hear from his fans at [e-mail]

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To Catch a Breath

James Suriano

Copyright © 2016 James Suriano

All rights reserved.

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There are many rooms in my father’s house.

Some are terrifying aberrations of nature.

Some are elations of pleasure and excess.

Some are where greedy, lusty creatures dwell,

but there is only one room for you.

The room where terror sucks the air and monsters devour the atmosphere,

where you gasp for help and struggle to catch a breath.

Also by James Suriano

Inbiotic

The Antarcticans

Dark

The Cult of Mao

Contents

Also by James Suriano

Carter Delight

The Corpse Reviver

The Alcombery Way Station

Trance

The Harvest

The Sera Beaux Chalet Inn

Lathia’s Gun

The Towers

The Boltenhouse Dinner

The Martian Undertaker

It’s a Pleasure

Schweebit

Afterword

About the Author

Carter Delight

Thirteen-year-old Carter was on his way back from his best friend Jimmy’s house. He quickly traversed the boardwalk connecting his neighborhood and Jimmy’s. The planks were splintered and fissured, and beach sand was toppling over the degraded barriers. There was grit between the rubber of his soles and the wood. But this was his dilapidated strip of safety between the unsettling natures on both sides of him. On one side, the vast, dark night sea endlessly expanded and threatened to engulf him. This was where he could never know what was lurking beneath the surface, the waves often lapping under the boardwalk itself. Carter found it unbearable to look at it; something inside him churned when he was near dark water.

On the other side of the boardwalk stood a derelict, abandoned carnival. The former attraction was surrounded by a chain-link fence the city had erected long after the carnival had closed, when it had become a danger to the public. The elements had taken their toll on every man-made material within reach. Piles of rusted old rides had collapsed in on themselves. The big-top tents were faded by the sun and torn by the storms, with shredded fabric blowing like flags in the wind. Covered with images of cotton candy and cartoonish characters, they now provided shelter for the seagulls and local birds. Each of the perky, bleached, smiling, pastel faces were covered in seagull feces. The wind picked up off the ocean, whistling through the lonesome structural metal like the siren song of Homer’s Odyssey. Carter crossed the stretch, keeping a locked focus on the planks ahead of him, busying himself with how many he might need to replace if he were a carpenter.

His first thought of the wind was that it was a lone stranger meandering along the shore, whistling from afar. This late October night, he walked quickly, skipping from board to board and looking ahead at a small metal box he was sure hadn’t been here the last time he had come this way. Brightly painted, it sat on the edge of the boardwalk closest to the carnival. When Carter got to it, he saw the paint was peeled away, exposing the silvery rusted metal underneath, but enough of the paint was left for him to make out the circus scene on the front: clowns, elephants, tigers, big-top tents, and a Ferris wheel. The brass latch didn’t have a lock on it. As Carter’s curiosity swelled, he looked around to see if anyone had left it here.

He raised his voice and let out a Hello?

The sea breeze silenced. The boardwalk wasn’t giving any clues.

Did someone forget this box? he called out.

He picked it up, set it on the railing of the boardwalk, and unbuckled the brass latch. Even though the rectangular box was only a foot long, it was incredibly heavy. The top squeaked open to reveal a red satin interior. The tinny notes of the music box started immediately, playing an oddly familiar tune. A handle at the far end of the box was turning, driving the music and the mechanics inside. It resembled the music box his sister, Valerie, kept on her vanity. This one was slightly bigger, though, and three odd figurines popped up when the lid was fully opened. The typical ballerina had been replaced with a dark clown, a joker, and a female dwarf in a pink tutu. A small mirror stood behind each of them. They turned in sequence with the crank on the side. As the tune played, words chimed into the melody.

What’s your name?

What’s your name?

Tell us your name.

We know a game.

What’s your name?

What’s your name?

Carter dropped the box when the words started, frightened at the sound of the three voices together in a macabre chorus. Although the box was on its side, the figures kept turning on their pedestals. Carter stood up quickly, grabbed his backpack, and kept his eyes on the box. The three voices continued to chant, What’s your name?

As he took off running, the wind picked back up. He thought he heard the boardwalk’s timber creaking behind him, out of step with his sneakers striking the surface.

…

When Jimmy called him the next afternoon to see if he wanted to come over, Carter hesitated to answer. Will the music box still be there? he wondered. Can I find another way to walk to Jimmy’s house? The sky was overcast again; he saw the orange-and-yellow glow of the dying tree leaves leaking through the window. He didn’t want to disappoint his best friend. He swallowed hard, trying to push away the nauseating thought of the clown, the joker, and the dwarf ballerina spinning in place.

I’ll be over in thirty minutes, Carter said, and hung up.

He crossed the threshold of his front door, into the fall air. It was the day before Halloween, but it was Sunday, and little kids were swarming the streets in costumes, bags in hand, looking for treats. He pulled his hoodie up over his head to keep the cold from nipping at his ears and put his head down. He didn’t want to run into anyone; he knew any diversion might break his already thin courage. When he reached the five steps that led to the boardwalk, he stopped and looked out at the ocean, keeping the abandoned carnival, which was farther down, out of sight. He knew he was being ridiculous; it was just a stupid music box. He jumped up the steps and quickly walked the path. Then he heard the familiar whistling. It was pushing the carousel around slowly, its metal gears grinding noisily. The aging pink merry-go-round filled with horses and elephants went round and round. Carter was trying not to look at anything, but that small voice inside him kept telling him to just peek. Just see if the box was still there. So he gave in and looked. There it was, innocently closed and back in the spot where he had found it yesterday. He was getting closer when he heard the chorus start.

Tell us your name.

We know a game.

Tell us your name.

Carter yelped in fear; he thought someone was beside him, whispering in his ear. His eyes were tearing up, but he couldn’t look away. I’m going to do it, he told himself. This is just a dumb box. It can’t hurt me.

Carter! he called out.

He gazed across the planks at the box. The chorus stopped. He took a few steps toward it and reached out to open the lid. The music started playing The Carnival Dance. He watched the three figurines spin around. The joker stopped, and something flashed in the mirror behind him and caught Carter’s eye. A carousel was turning in the mirror. It wasn’t a reflection; it was a screen. Children were laughing and smiling as they sat on the animals, going round and round.

We know a game, the chorus repeated. Then the joker spun wildly and laughed. It was hard and high-pitched, like the sound of a sick hyena.

Carter’s heart sped up, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. But he wouldn’t give in to his fear; he wanted to know what this thing was. As he looked over the top of the box, he noticed the carousel at the amusement park was moving faster. Some of the lights were on; it seemed to be electrified with an unknown force.

Come play the game.

Come play the game, the voices beckoned from the carousel, which was now turning wildly.

Carter set the music box down and jumped off the boardwalk toward the carnival grounds. The barrier fence had been weakened by age, as well as the corrosion of the salty air, and had been peeled back by teenagers and vagrants wanting to get inside. Entranced by the carousel and the voice, he pushed it aside and ducked under it.

Over and over, he heard the three ominous figures chanting.

Come play the game.

When he reached the carousel, it was whizzing by him. He noticed the paint was fresh and all the lights were on. He heard distant squeals of childhood delight. When the carousel slowed to a stop, he grasped one of the candy-striped poles and stepped on. His feet left the ground, and it began to turn again. The voices were louder now. In the center of the carousel, mirrors hid the interior mechanics and the motor from the riders. One of the mirror panels opened, revealing an entrance to the center of the carousel. As Carter walked toward it, the voices poured from the darkness within. Crumpled brown leaves, an old red-and-white popcorn bag, and cobwebs blew from within the entrance. The hinges protested as he pulled at the mirrored door so he could look inside. His hands were shaking. For a moment it crossed his mind that this was a terrible idea and he should just leave and continue to Jimmy’s house, but his adrenaline kept him going. He smelled the musty oil that greased the gears inside this room, while pinpricks of light filtered into the center from the outside. As Carter’s eyes adjusted, he saw an object was shiny and moving. The sounds of the chorus were close now.

C’mon, Carter. We’re inside. Come play the game.

I can’t see you, he said.

Just step inside. You’ll see us when you step inside. We have a game for you.

Although his knees were weak, he forced his legs forward. His foot came to rest on something solid, so he moved his other foot forward. Then the door slammed behind him. A short, stubby, and cold hand took his.

Oh, Carter. It was a high, squeaky voice.

Can you dance with me? No one will dance with me! She pulled his hand to rest on her pink lacy tutu.

Yes, that’s it. One hand there and one hand in mine.

She was small and robust, and she led him through the motions of the dance. As they glided through the dark space, Carter heard other whispers, people moving behind him.

You’re so talented. I’m so glad you played the game! she said.

Beams of foggy light from outside caught her face, and Carter realized it was the dwarf ballerina from the box. He froze, his limbs seizing in place, putting a stop to the ballroom dance she was leading him through.

You’re the ballerina in the music box! Carter exclaimed.

Yes, yes, I am. But what’s wrong with that?

Did you put that box out on the boardwalk for me to find? he accused her.

Carter, every day I’ve watched you walk by our carnival, and I always wondered why you didn’t come in. All the other teenagers want to come in and enjoy our space. But you…you always just walk by and ignore us, she whined.

Carter shook his head. I wasn’t ignoring you. I didn’t even know you were here. I want to leave now. Open that door. He had become disoriented from the dancing and the movement of the carousel.

"You did ignore us!" the three figures sang out as one.

The whirring of the gears and levers resounded as the carousel outside the room spun around them, picking up speed. The ballerina pushed Carter back. She was surprisingly strong. His frozen arms couldn’t hold her off and he was forced back, losing his footing. As he tumbled backward, the whirring of the gears came closer to his ears. As one arm reached out to catch his fall, searing pain radiated up his arm as the gears crushed and mangled his hand. The gears drew his arm in, pulling him closer. His bones splintered apart, and his elbow exploded. The joker’s shrieking laugh filled the small space.

Ugh, oh, God. Ugh, no, no, help me! Carter screamed in agony.

A single incandescent lightbulb attached to a withered brown string illuminated the space. With the cover of darkness now lifted, Carter made out the joker and the clown, standing arm and arm, with broad grins on their faces. Something was moving at their feet. The ballerina grabbed his arm and yanked him free from the gears. His blood splashed on the joker and clown as they watched, and then the clown extended his tongue and tasted it. Carter was in shock now, his face moon white. He slammed into the floor, and someone pushed something against his half-torn arm. He watched the three of them run to the spot where he’d just lost his arm. Screeching and laughing and pushing each other out of the way, they scavenged for the bits of flesh. When their grubby fingers found a morsel, they’d quickly pop it into their hungry mouths, afraid the others might steal it. The joker smiled as he chewed voraciously, blood running down