offline COLOSSAL-TCA Novice Time Conquers All
Sunday 25/08/2013, 03:29

Here is a short story that I've been writing. I share it with you here, because it draws a good deal of inspiration from the Urban Rival's website. Or more, specifically, the Freak's clan. It is NOT a direct fan-fiction, though I'm sure you will spot some of the characters while reading it.

The work below is part of a greater work of short stories, that I've been writing in my limited spare time. The collection is entitled 'From A Bird's Eye View'. All of the stories within the collection focus around a very unusual perspective.

The story below is one of the stories within the collection. It is called 'Hear The Crowd Roar' and is one of those stories you'll need to read multiple times in order to discover all the hidden meanings and allusions.

I'm NOT a professional writer by trade and this is only the first draft, a good deal of editing is still required on this particular work. However, I hope you will enjoy it all the same.

Please Enjoy!

edited by COLOSSAL-TCA sunday 25/08/2013, 03:29

offline COLOSSAL-TCA Novice Time Conquers All
Thursday 27/12/2012, 05:38


I wait my turn.

I know that it will come and so I wait it patiently. My face betrays not a hint of anticipation and yet, I'm ravenous for its birth. Hungry for my absolution.

Though this is not my first dance of shame, tonight, will not be the same. I'm changed, but it'll be too late before they can know it.

I wait my turn. And so too, do they wait. Their breath, bated with buttered popcorn, teeth, stained with soda, tongues, lapping at the gloomy air in the massive mildewy tent that has all but outlived its purpose.

They wait, like they have waited their whole lives for this one, desperate rush of excitement, something to stray their minds from the desks they seem to sit at for most of their waking hours. From the child, pondering some quadratic equation, to the man, calculating his company's expenditure. From the babe at the breast, that
robotically sucks, hibernates and shuts down. To the aged crone sat alone at home, finishing her meager mémoires to the few loved ones that survive her.

They do not know, they all wait for death, and death, is always on time.

But tonight, they burn the desks of their minds and though death never dances here, death is coming all the same. But not for them, not tonight. He has but only one in mind and I can see her, see her fine...

offline COLOSSAL-TCA Novice Time Conquers All
Thursday 27/12/2012, 05:38

I wait my turn. We wait for it to start.

All eyes are center stage, though some may spot the podgy man beginning his descent. Ringleader of the animals that took away my pride. Mister Boris, fat and penguin like, harbouring the black egg of greed. Its yoke drips money that splatters on his fine violent green suit, as he walks to the best seat in the house. Not that he'll justify using it, for he will see nothing, his magnificent beak is his act and that is all that he will use until the
curtain closes.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, Freaks in mind and body... Welcome!"
"Welcome to the greatest show since... Christ darn it... I dunno!"
"Boy, have we got something special for you good people tonight! This ain't gonna be anything you ever gonna forget, or your money back!"
"I guarantee you ain't never seen anything like this. We got's here a guy, that's gonna eat an entire Chevy 1956 convertible... right in front of your very peepers!"
"That's right kiddies, he takes the biggest dump you ever saw!"
"And if you ain't got the stomach for that... have you ever heard a wittle bunny rabbit sing?"
"That's right folks, we's gots a genuine singing babbit... and yes, he does take requests."
"Of course, we's gots all your favourites too, from fire-eating to knife throwing, clowns to contortionists to..."

offline COLOSSAL-TCA Novice Time Conquers All
Thursday 27/12/2012, 05:38

I wait my turn. He'll end this semi-oratorical white lie with 'This will be a night to remember!' And this time, he'll tell it true.

I've heard his little speech a thousand times before, and it rarely deviates from the original copy he once wrote, on the inside of an empty cigarette packet. This will be the last speech he makes, however. He'll probably go back to selling second-hand cars in the cesspit he once called home. A pity I won't be around to see it.

I wait my turn. His oh so honeyed words, invite his pets to join him. One by one, they slither to him willingly, obediently performing the twisted task he 'honoured' them with. Mocking them at every turn and praising their repulsiveness. Continuing in this way, till all manner of Freaks and Circus Performers have filtered into a bottle of their own perfections and imperfections. A greyish mess. Poison. The crowd slurp it greedily, clapping and guffawing like mongoloid seals begging for rotten fish.

Hear the crowd roar!

And after Mister Boris is done, said farewell and checked the purse, he'll finally shut his greasy beak. Mayhaps first coerce some poor soul to follow him back to his trailer for a nibble or a bite... Often, I have caught the scent of nervous sweat, mingled with stale tobacco, rising from his den. But there will be no such prize tonight. There may still be an aroma of sweat, leaking from Mister Boris's trailer, as he lies awake, but it'll be perfumed in the stench of blood.

offline COLOSSAL-TCA Novice Time Conquers All
Thursday 27/12/2012, 05:39

I wait my turn. I wait for my release.

My prison lays me still, but I can see the light between the bars. I can see the faces behind this masquerade. Familiar faces, that only ever acknowledged me in fear, apprehension and loathing. Only she, she, ever loved me. We even lay together once, not as lovers, but as kin. And I accepted her warmth in this cold unusual place. But I'm but her slave and every day she chastises me. Curses me when I fall foul and beats me for my
anger, my very natural anger... broken.

But no... it still lurks in its dreadful deformed form, deep beneath the surface, like a venomous worm... waiting.

I wait my turn. I wait for my redemption.

So let them come. Let the fat man call them by false names and let them dance their dance of shame. The dance of the dancing bear. Chewed and moth eaten, stitched with sadness, like teddies that children leave in dusty corners which only spiders share. I'll watch them from my prison and pray for foulness in the air.

Our Father who art in Heaven, give us this day our daily meat? Perhaps something to splatter, something to burn, something to bleed?

Anything for a little taste of vengeance. Une Entrée avant main course? Something to whet the appetite? Something to still my beating heart before it bursts and everything is spoiled? Oh God, Almighty, please?!

Leave me an inch, one simple inch... Is that too much to ask for?

offline COLOSSAL-TCA Novice Time Conquers All
Thursday 27/12/2012, 05:39

Let the knife thrower's perfectly weighted blade with the ivory grip, miss it's goal. Let it, instead, fly an inch to the left and puncture the right eye of his beloved, like a tiny water balloon. Pop. Splatter. Ooze. Beautiful.

Let the acrobat mistime her jump. Let her reach out for the rope and lose it by an inch. Falling at first like a rose petal in the wind, then becoming as heavy as a severed head thrown from an Aztec temple. Crunch, Snap, Scream. Wonderful.

Let the snake awake and ensnare its charmer, its fangs an inch apart.

Let the fire-eater's lung thicken with that last inch of tar, the inch that gets him.

Let the clown weep bloody tears, an inch before insanity.

Leave me an inch, one simple inch... Is that too much to ask for?

An inch is all it takes. One inch. So small and insignificant and yet it tethers universes. Sun and moon, light and dark, love and hate, all separated by a single inch.

How long until my turn I could ask but... how long is a piece of string?
An inch, it whispers. An inch. Life and death at either end. An inch.
Leave me an inch, one simple inch... Is that too much to ask for?

I wait my turn. I wait... for my inch.

offline COLOSSAL-TCA Novice Time Conquers All
Thursday 27/12/2012, 05:39

She wishes she was as I was once. Her very soul shakes in the need of it. How she needs it, craves it, longs for it. She smells of green and brown and red and moves as stealthy as a lover. She perfects my mannerisms, mimics me, mirrors me. At first I believed she mocked me, but no, adoration, flattery.

So similar to the ones I once ran with, back in the good old days. I would have chased the stars for her, fought the sun for her, perhaps, even in spite of her deformities...
Aye, I could love her. I could love her.

But tis' not her body that disgusts me... but her mind.

Nay lady.
Tis' not thine hands of yellowish pale flesh, cursed to seem like boneless chicken breast, but the whip they hold and beat me with.
Tis' not thy breath which pukes out unknown scents, but the words that fall from under it.
Tis' not thine face, more ugly than sin, with bloody lumps and broken skin, but the lying eyes, that doth lie, within.

Aye, I wait my turn, my decision made.

offline COLOSSAL-TCA Novice Time Conquers All
Thursday 27/12/2012, 05:39

5 minutes of fear, sheer terror, urine dribbles everywhere. Eye to eye with the Grotesque!

"Ladies and Gentleman, may I present..."

See the sword, see it well.

"The Gigantic..."

Remember the pain, searing pain.


My children butchered.


Never stood a chance.

"And ever so slightly... Psychopathic..."

My courage and my pride.


And hear the crowd roar!

offline COLOSSAL-TCA Novice Time Conquers All
Thursday 27/12/2012, 05:40

"Oh never fear my good people, never fear... This 9 feet tall colossus might look like he just walked outta an R.L Stine, but he's as obedient as Bow Wow, the perfect lil' woofer.

Here, I'll prove it. Oren... sit... Oren... sit... Good boy!"

"Thank you! Thank you! You're far too kind!"

"Now, see the great battle sword he swings, the magnificent Nero, huh huh huk... Nero he calls it. Originality isn't Oren's strong point ya see, he's only spelled his own name backwards!"

"How many braincells have you Oren? Five? Can you count five? Count five Oren, go on...

"Nope, that's four, Oren, one, two three, four! Imbecile! Can you say imbecile Oren?"

"You're an imbecile aren't you Oren? Nod your head Oren. Oren nod.... Oren nod... Good boy!"

"Thank you! Thank you! You're far too kind!"

"During the cold war, Oren used this magnificent sword to butcher a thousand Commies. He drenched the sword in lighter fluid, so it burned with a flame as hot as the Earth's core. I spect', he just wanted to warm them up, huh huh huk. Can you say marshmallows over a camp fire?"

"Now, watch Oren perform this sacred act once more. Let him fire up this ancient blade and engulf the flames through his humongous gullet!"

"Never fear my good people, never fear... Oren's insides are stronger than steel... he'd eat the sun and ask what was for dessert..."

"If he could put the words together, that is, huh huh huk, huh huk huh, huh huh..."

I wait my turn, I wait for it to end...

offline COLOSSAL-TCA Novice Time Conquers All
Thursday 27/12/2012, 05:40

Mister Boris will start singing, as Oren swallows the sword that killed my kin. Singing in that blunted, stumpy voice of his, so devoid of life. I've heard the song a thousand times before, tis' a song of misery and sadness.

"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,
Jack Frost nipping on your nose,
Yuletide carols being sung by a choir,
And folks dressed up like Eskimos."

He always replaces 'folks' with 'freaks', perhaps unintentionally, who can say for certain? And all throughout, the Grotesque thrusts the flaming weapon into his gaping maw and pulls it back out, for all see, as happy as a child that just learned to piss in one direction. Repeating this process all the time in cursed repetition. In, out, in, out, in, out, perversely sexual.

Answer to this subject

Clint City, day.