Shortly after, the three arrived at the stage. To Rags, it looked desolate, especially in comparison to how crowded and loud the circus had been not too many days ago, like seeing an empty spot where the moon used to be.

Glee quickly led Rags and Griff backstage. Tiny beings no more than six inches tall emerged from the shadows in the curtains. All were slightly translucent so you could see their organs, which almost made Rags gag, despite how he was used to gore, especially when he saw Griff licking his lips. Their foggy glass skin was tinted different colors, the majority green, some purple, some blue, still others reddish, each equipped with a small pair of insect-like wings. They were humanoid, and their “clothing” was very crude. They all seemed to be wearing loincloths made out of leaves or segments of the stage curtains. As far as Rags could tell, there were no female pixies in the crowd. The small imp-like things seemed to be plotting something, each one glaring at Glee.

Glee didn’t seem particularly bothered by the things, even when one tossed a small pebble at them. “Well, before we can practice we’ll have to get these things out,” they muttered, before announcing it louder so the others could hear.

“How?” Asked Rags.

Before Glee could answer, Griff lunged at a red-tinted pixie and gripped the thing around the abdomen. The little thing looked like it might be sick as its tiny arms pushed against Griff’s tight grip.

“Oh, Griff, you’re holding it too tight! Loosen up a little bit, kid.”

Griff did and held the pixie up to his face to examine it closer. The small creature gave a high-pitched scream that Rags suspected was a war cry and stabbed a tiny dagger into Griff’s nose.

“Ow!” He exclaimed, dropping the pixie.

“Yeah, that’s why we don’t mess with the pixies. You alright, kiddo?”

Griff nodded. “Can we cook one of the green ones? And can I have a blue one?”

The blue pixies snarled and the green ones hissed towards Griff.

“That’s a no,” Rags supplied, his hands already twitching nervously towards his twin blades. The things were tiny, but there were many and they could likely overpower at least one of the three, particularly Griff. “And, Glee, why do these things want to kill you? They’re all… glaring at you.”

Glee shifted uncomfortably. “Y’know, we had to have some way to get the things to shoot at me for the show…”

“Glee, what did you do!?”

Glee coughed and Rags caught a word in the noise, something involving fire.

“What?”

“I had to, uh. I’m not proud of it… we just… weren’t very nice to them. So that they would dislike us.”

“Yeah, because whenever I don't like someone, I want to kill them.”

Glee relaxed. “Yeah, see, you get it!”

“Glee! That was sarcasm!”

They slumped. “Right.”

Before the conversation could continue, every pixie at once lunged towards Glee, climbing up their clothes. In a moment of panic, Glee burst into flames. Fifteen seconds later, all that remained of most of the pixies were considered edible by Griff.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” Glee said numbly. “I panicked.”

“It’s okay, Glee!” Griff said brightly. “You got us lunch!” The seven-year-old scooped up a handful of toasted pixies and bit into one with a crunch.

“Yeah, Glee, it’s alright. I can get the rest of the pixies out,” Rags agreed, though his voice was a bit shaky.

Great job, Glee, proclaimed the shadow’s voice. Now another person is afraid of you.

“Shut up,” Glee muttered aloud, but their discomfort only fueled the shadow.

How old is he? The voice continued, audible only to Glee. Thirteen, fourteen? He’s gone through hell and back when he was in the Arena, and look what you’ve done. You’ve managed to scare someone who’s killed dozens of cold-hearted killers. You’re a horrible, horrible person.

“What did you say?” Asked Rags.

“N-nothing, I’m just thinking out loud.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Of course you are, P.E.R.C.E., Going insane by the moment.” announced a voice that Glee knew all too well. They stifled a yelp.

Rags instantly jumped into a fighting stance.

“Glee? What was that?” Griff inched closer to Glee out of fear.

Rags was frozen, staring at the shadow’s glowing red eyes, like red lightning against soft, light blue clouds.

“This,” Glee said in a shaky, resigned voice, like an elderly man telling a secret he’d carried for life, “Is Gloom.”

“I—” Rags managed to get out. “You— there’s a shadow. And it—it’s talking?”

“Yeah.”

Griff realized that the shadow was close to Glee, and therefore close to him, and gave a wolf-like yelp, quickly leaping back and hiding behind Rags.

“Have they not told you about me? How rude. I am Gloom, P.E.R.C.E.’s… companion.”

“It’s not my companion!” Glee said hastily.

“Perce?” Rags asked, knives still unsheathed, though he was now standing normally, no longer in a fighting stance.

“No, It’s P-E-R-C-E. Stands for Pyrokinetic Entity for Recreation and Circus-themed Entertainment.”

“Gloom, let me explain this! You’re going to twist the facts and make it sound like I—”

“Like you what, P.E.R.C.E.? Killed someone?”

“Glee? Wh-who is this?” Griff asked, trusting Rags to defend him.

The only thing Glee wanted to know was if Griff wanted defending from the shadow or from Glee themself.

“It’s alright, Griff, it can’t hurt you. Or me.” Under their breath, Glee added, “At least, not physically,” before returning to their normal speaking volume. “I was genetically engineered as a commission from the Circus in the days when it was much better known and much more rich. Back when it could afford these things, y’know? They asked for a Pyro that was made for entertainment. Hence… this.” Glee gestured vaguely at the bright patterns on their skin, the vivid colors of their hair. “I was designed to be eye-catching. To keep the audience’s attention, to entertain.” Bitterness seeped into their voice. “By the time I was maybe four, five, six? They never told me my exact birthday. But by that time, I had managed to get outta my room. I was walking down the hallways, when I saw this… thing. It told me it was a soul without a body, and it sounded so sad, if only it could just inhabit my shadow for a little bit? Just until it could find a body.

“I didn’t know how difficult it would be to get rid of it,” Glee sighed.

“They’re talking about me,” Gloom offered unhelpfully. “I can be very clingy when I find someone I’d want to keep… What's the word? Haunting? Something along those lines.”

“Shut up,” Glee offered helpfully.

“No, that’s not the right word.”

Glee sighed. “Anyway, it didn’t stay just until it could find a body. It’s still here. And it’s still ‘haunting’ me, as it so delicately puts it.”

“You’re leaving out a key detail, P.E.R.C.E.,” Gloom scolded.

“Would you let me fucking finish?!” Glee shouted at it, kicking the ground where the shadow was. This did nothing but hurt Glee’s ankle, but they wouldn’t give Gloom the satisfaction of knowing that.

Gloom gestured towards Glee, which looked a bit strange, but got the point across.

“Gloom here kept haunting me. He could talk to me and no one else could hear it. I learned very quickly to keep quiet about it, or they might think I was defective and dispose of me. I eventually got very mad at it, but it was manipulative. It convinced me that it was actually the Hands’ fault. Y’know how I just burnt a shitton of pixies?”

“Glee… no…” Rags said, knives now sheathed. He was pressing into his temples as if he had a headache. “It’s lying, right?”

“I killed six people,” Glee finished. “Now,” they added, voice shaking. “The show must go on. Let us practice.”

Gloom gave a malicious smile, teeth unnervingly white in the shadow, and the shadow slowly faded into its normal grayish hue.

Rags and Griff, for whatever reason, didn’t oppose the decision. Rags removed the rest of the pixies and put them outside, and the two went with it and fired the cannons with no problems at Glee.

When they were finished with that practice, Glee decided that they needed no extra practice. Griff especially seemed a natural.

Glee directed the two to a bin full of small fake knives that would not hurt Glee in case they were thrown wrong.

Rags exceeded at throwing the knives. Griff often missed. Once a knife was thrown towards the audience.

Glee decided not to let Griff throw the knives.

“Arright guys, I got a plan. Griff, you’re operating the fire cannons. Rags, you’re great at that knife-throwin’. You’re doin’ that.” Glee told the other two.

“Okay,” Rags answered quietly.

Glee’s stomach dropped. “Rags, I really didn’t want to hurt anyone. I swear, it was an accident, and I don’t control Gloom, I’m really doing my best, I swear—”

“Glee, it’s okay,” Rags said, though he had flinched. His hand had gone to the palm of his prosthetic, almost a nervous tic.

“Al-alright. I’ll drop it. I’m sorry.”

Griff looked over, oblivious. “Can we have bacon tomorrow, too?”

“Sure,” Glee answered absentmindedly. “Let’s run through the whole act again. We have to be prepared by tomorrow.”

They did and it went off without a hitch. Glee paid Griff his portion. They told Rags that they wouldn’t be paying him until his debt for the arm had been paid off by his wages, but that any basic needs would be taken care of by Glee and the circus.Rags told them that he understood and the three decided to take a break for lunch.

Griff demanded that they go to the market for lunch, so Glee agreed.

“Rags, would you wanna join us? I don’t mind paying, and no, you will not be put in debt.” Glee promised with a smile.

Rags gave a slightly nervous laugh. It unnerved him how normal Glee was acting, but he didn’t comment on it. “No, thanks, they serve all employees free food. I don’t want to bother you.” He sat down in the tent and began to fidget with the hand of his prosthetic.

Glee shrugged. “Suit yourself,” and headed off to the market with Griff.