Forestland Clean-Up
Trees. It was just about all that Ray Brookers could see. Inside a cramped bus sitting next to some old lady, his eyes could only be stuck on endless, green trees. He'd never been on this bus route before and he was looking forward to never taking it again. It was a one way trip for Ray. Because the next stop on this route was Forestland. The place where Ray wanted to work.
He would've preferred a quiet office job over this but manual labor was all that he was good for. The newspaper advert for Forestland was just the highest paying job that worked best for him. He spotted it while enjoying a dollar's worth of coffee in a state he wasn't allowed to be in on the daily paper and hasn't looked back since. The thing mentioned that no special qualifications were needed, all that was asked was "some guts and some muscles."
The conditions would probably be shitty but it was better than months of pavement again. The place was close to one of the largest nature reserves in America. So if Ray needed to slip away unnoticed for one reason or another, he'd be able to thank the forest for helping him out.
Along the way by the side of the road, there was a sign that told visitors to stick with a group at all times and to wear shoes at all times. Ray reasoned for the former reason that the place was connected to one of the biggest forests he'd ever seen. Easy to get lost in if drifting off the beaten path. For the latter, the advertisement told him that paths for the place were made with pure gravel. It's a good thing he decided to bring the stolen shoes for the interview.
He rang the bell and scooted past the old lady. Ray felt like he was stinking up the bus. She'd probably enjoy the rest of her ride now. He slipped off the bus at the stop and walked to the entrance. The entrance made it feel like the place wasn't proud to be an amusement park. There was just a sign of a tree with googly eyes and a wild smile with the Forestland logo next to it for a sign. And next to the sign was a gate leading to the park. It was made of rusty iron, the gate would serve a better purpose in keeping goats in a farm than letting guests into this place.
A toll station was right by it, with families coming through after paying for a ticket. It had been painted light green about a decade ago from the looks of it, with a small window looking out to the same boring trees Ray saw earlier. Coming through the gate he could smell the scent of fresh doughnuts and greasy burgers waft through. It was a damn shame about the price for the bus ticket. Hitchhiking could've gotten himself a meal. He dug a hand into his patchwork coat and grabbed the ripped page of the daily paper that showed the ad. He wasn't sure if this was the right way to approach the place for a job but it was better than nothing.
It was a short line and barely took a minute or so until Ray was up. The old guy in charge of the toll reeked of coffee and cigarettes. He was wearing a white shirt with pink pinstripes lining down it, along with a stained white hat that had been used for too long. Coupled that with a five o'clock gray shadow and he looked to be about as dirty as Ray was. He'd be fitting right in then.
"$7.50 for adults sir." The man in the toll booth said. He didn't seem all too happy a guy like Ray was visiting the park.
"Not here for entertainment man." Ray said, pulling out the newspaper ad. "Here for the cleaning job." The toll booth man peered over his post and looked closely at the advert. He pressed something underneath his desk and the gate veered open.
"Follow me, we'll go through the interview in the office." The man grabbed a walkie talkie he was using as a bookmark and turned it on. "Bill or Thomas, either of you dorks. Could either of you come over and look after the post for me please. We got a new guy coming in." He paused for a minute while getting a response that Ray wasn't privy to. "Thanks. Alright let's get a move on then, we'll talk more when we're inside."
There wasn't much of a crowd within the park today. Any people that were around formed in small groups that either must've been families or drunken college kids. Ray didn't blame them. Forestland wasn't exactly Six Flags in terms of presentation. It was as if whoever designed the park just saw the name "Forest" and ran with it, throwing trees and log cabins wherever he could. The palette for this slice of forest were some sickly old browns for the top and dreary, boring greys for the floor.
Hell, it wasn't like Six Flags in terms of entertainment either. It was one of those old timey P.T Barnum amusement parks, the ones where the most thrilling ride you'd get was the love tunnel because the water had cholera in it. And Forestland didn't even have that. It had water rides, food stands, "group activities" and a circus. And with how the place was set up to be a giant circle, the whole place felt immensely cramped. Ray found himself needing to watch where his feet were at all times to avoid stubbing his foot against something.
The only thing of interest in this place was the circus that was placed in the direct center of the park. It was the only thing taller than the trees. It wasn't housed within one of those cliché red and white tents as well. It was a giant, inflated clown head that wore blue makeup for his eyes and smile. Two blue puff balls on each side of its head were used for the restrooms on the left and the employee's only lounge for the right. A big red nose had a TV built into it to showcase some circus acts and guests would enter the place through the giant open mouth.
Along the way to the tent, Ray felt his stomach rumble. As soon as the interview would be done with, he'd look into getting an early pay check for a meal. Or at least ask if crew members would get a free meal. The toll booth man noticed the rumble and took out a $5 bill, passing it over to Ray. "If the interview doesn't go well, you can at least eat something before you go." The toll booth man said. Ray shoved the bill in his pocket and murmured a thanks.
The two finally reached the circus tent and wandered inside the employee's lounge. For Ray it felt more like a living room. There were two couches, a coffee table, a TV hooked up to the wall and some foot stools. Three doors were by the back with a locker room to the left, CCTV in the middle and the office to the right. Two guys were already inside the lounge, eating packets of chips while watching Evil Dead 3. As soon as they saw Ray and the toll booth guy walk in, they threw their packets behind the couch and stood up from their seat.
"Of course Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb can't follow a simple order from a walkie talkie." The toll booth guy said.
"Sorry Boss, we uh-" The guy on the left was quickly interrupted by the guy on the right who jabbed him in the arm.
"We forgot to charge our walkie talkies you see." The guy on the right quickly explained, the one on the left nodding along with him.
"Well ain't that the case." The Boss said to the two, a thin smile creeping on his face. "You've just bumped an hour's worth of cleaning the toilets to two hours. Next time don't set yourself up for failing at your job. On your way, tell Maurice that he's up for toll booth duty because there's gotta at least be one family wailing about not being let in."
The two guys drifted past Ray and left as soon as he noticed they were there. "So...how often will I get to lounge around like that?" Ray asked cheekily.
"I'm not someone that's gonna be everywhere at once, some breaks are allowed." The Boss said. "Just make sure you charge your only form of communication here."
Ray and the Boss eventually got themselves into the office. It was a hoarder's paradise, filled with junk and sentimental items from top to bottom. Ray needed to swipe the garbage out from his seat so that he wouldn't be sitting on burger wrappers and empty soda cans. The Boss lit up a cigarette and offered one to Ray. It'd been a while since he had a drag and was starving for one, so he accepted it. The Boss held that thin smile again as he took out a hip flask and took a swig of it.
"That's the first thing that tells me you could be good for this job." Boss said. "You know a way to destress. Sometimes it gets stressful working here and an efficient way of handling that is pretty much necessary."
"Heh, didn't know I was going to be tested so soon." Ray responded, hiding his hands in his pockets. "Was the dollar bill another test for me?"
"Depends on how you use that dollar bill." Boss said. "As long as it goes to something in here, you're just fine. Although with how you're looking, I doubt you'd be looking to get anywhere else but here."
"That was something I was going to ask at the end." Ray said, clenching his hands together. "It wasn't said specifically on the ad but I wanted to ask to be sure...Am I going to get accommodation here?"
"Do you have a place to stay in other than here?" The Boss said, resting his cigarette between his fingers.
"Afraid not. This could be the first proper place I'll have slept in a long while." Ray muttered.
"...I see." Ray stubbed out his cigarette before taking another swig of his flask. "I'll say this as lightly as possible: This job is going to be tough. There's going to be rules you need to follow. Failure to follow them will definitely put you in risk of grave consequences. You'll be expected to be ready for work at every hour at a moment's notice. And most of all, you need to be sure you work well with the team. They go through this shit just as much as you would do and they rely on each other to make it through each day. No man is a castle. Now with that said..."
The Boss held out a hand from over the desk and grew his smile. "Work for me and I'll guarantee you a sleeping space." The Boss said.
Ray thought on this notion very briefly before giving Boss a firm handshake. "I'll take that deal. I won't let you down Boss."
"Please, call me George."
The rest of the day was dedicated to getting Ray up to speed with the job. The crew as it were just consisted of Tweedle Dee (Thomas), Tweedle Dumb (Bill), Maurice and Taylor. Thomas wore blue overalls, Bill wore green overalls. They were native Texans who bonded together with a love for Forestland when they were kids and as a result never really left childhood for adulthood. Maurice was as well-kept a janitor for an amusement park could possibly be. Unlike everyone else, he seemed to have actually washed his clothes. Although the price to pay for keeping his clothes maintained went towards his body seemingly covered in scars and old wounds.
Taylor looked to be another new recruit alongside Ray. Out of the two though, the former seemed to be a lot more prepared for the job than Ray was. Big muscles, brimming with confidence that bordered on arrogance. Throughout the meeting with him in the employee's lounge he tended to use the word "I" rather than "We" more often than not. Ray supposed that was something he had over Taylor. Attention to teamwork. Although even Ray would accept that as stretching the word "better" if anything. At the very least, he knew he didn't like him.
The rest of the employees were food crew and people that entertained the kids, most of them unremarkable enough to Ray to forget their names. All except for the main clown. His name was Mr. Mosey. If the trees weren't the mascot for Forestland then Mr. Mosey was. The inflatable tent that his head was based on didn't quite catch the fact that Mr. Mosey never smiled. The TV screen showed snippets of it but off the clock while he roamed the park taking pictures with guests, Ray never found him to be enjoying himself. Poor guy was probably another new guy who hadn't got the hang of it all.
His living quarters was the closest to the locker room, renovated to have all of the junk thrown out and replaced with a mattress. The mattress was due to arrive by midnight however so before he could finally rest, George told him he could wander around the place. The only rules he'd need to follow were to not leave the park and to not go into any closed off sections. Obviously, Ray wanted to go against his wishes in some regard. He was still a stranger in another state and he'd need to see any possible escape routes that could get him to safety.
The first rule was going to be enforced by the rest of the employees though so to compensate, he opted to look for any back exits. Which were easily found. There were three exit points that matched against each other alongside the entrance to form a cross. They all used the same rusty gate as well, although the exits could easily be pulled open with some effort. Best exit to take would be the one directly opposite the entrance, as it was more than likely he'd be spotted going the other direction. As best as he can judge with his limited vision, he noticed some footpaths that he could take. They looked to be well worn and used.
After that was finding hiding places if the exits were unusable. Best places he could judge from around the tent would be food stands that orbit around the circus tent. The churro and American burger stands in particular caught his attention. They seemed spacious, with some fridges to house the dough and meat in respectively. It'd be chilly but he'd been through colder weather. Other than the stands, the best place would be in the circus itself. He hadn't gotten a proper tour of it yet so he saw fit to have a look inside.
As soon as he walked in, the overwhelming sound of some early 2010s pop songs started booming through speakers in the main room. It was some faux-dubstep stuff he never had an interest in. Directly ahead of him was where the performance was happening, hidden by curtains. Peeking through the middle, Ray caught a glimpse of a tightrope act being performed.
Despite the unique look on the exterior, the inside was more or less to be expected out of a circus. Rows of seats surrounding the centre, a circular stage, that sort of thing. To his left was a locker room for the performers that led to the storage room, which was empty as he peeked in. But to his right, Ray found the most interesting hiding spot.
It was a closed off section of the circus entitled "The Freak Show". The lights had been turned off within the leading room, the only way Ray could see anything was inside was by shifting the curtains open to let the light from there. He could just about see some pictures that were framed on the wall. The clearest one he could see depicted a man with three eyeballs. The extra one was a near dead one that was in the man's cheekbone. Another one he could barely see appeared to be a skeleton of some kind of creature. And another one looked to have a woman with two extra arms.
But the most interesting thing was not on the walls but in the centre of the room. It was either a stuffed model or a wax figurine, it was hard for Ray to tell. But it was rather tall. Tall enough to reach the ceiling at least. It was thin too, but with some things coming out of the sides of its head. Or whatever it was. Ray could tell what it was if he was able to switch on the lights and take a peek...
But now was not the time. If he was going to satiate his curiosity, he'd do so under the cover of night. When the rest of the place was closed and most of the employees went home. Leaving the circus tent, Ray spent the rest of the day in the lounge. He had bought himself a chicken burger with fries. It was the greasiest meal he had eaten in a long while. He greatly enjoyed it.
Once midnight came and the mattress arrived, George took the time out of his day to finish setting up the impromptu bedroom for Ray. He fashioned a blanket out of some spare curtains, pillows out of sofa cushions and included a chair for Ray to sit on. "To tie your shoes" as George put it. The two gave each other a firm handshake and a small welcome for the first day before he left the employee's lounge.
At first, Ray was content with trying to sleep for the first night. He would accept the gracious gift offered by his boss and enjoy a comfortable rest from his boss. But he couldn't sleep. No matter how much he relaxed his muscles or counted sheep, Ray couldn't get a minute's worth of rest. And he knew exactly why. It was because of the Freak Show.
He wasn't driven by finding a place to hide anymore in case he got recognised for what he did. His mind went deeper past that. It was the innate desire to know what was being hidden. To know why the Freak Show was currently closed. And to know what in God's name that figure was. It was so close to him as well, he was merely a minute's walk away from it. He was definitely feeling the fatigue from walking around all day catch up to him but it didn't matter at that point. He just had to know.
Before he left the lounge though, he thought it wise to grab a flashlight from the locker room. Even if no one was currently around, a safety alarm could ruin everything. Leaving through the forest under the cover of night would require the torch. After grabbing it, Ray didn't need to worry about making a sneaky walk inside the main part of the circus. Stepping inside, Ray felt a slight breeze of cold air shoot out from his back. He wasn't sure if it came from inside or outside the tent.
Inside the circus was complete darkness. The flashlight came in handy after all as he began to shine it through the darkness. Although as he quickly shone it through the darkness, the sudden sight of what the figure was nearly made him drop to the floor in fright. It was Mr. Mosey. Or at least something that looked like him. This Mr. Mosey was a lot thinner than the one he knew. And a lot taller. And the puff balls on the side of its head looked to be made of more than just hair. Although that could've just been how the model was made. Ray was fine having that be the explanation.
While he was having trouble finding the lights, Ray could at least see the photographs more clearly. The skeleton one he spotted earlier was noted to be the skeleton of a male that was found "drifting" through the woods one night. And the woman with extra arms also appeared to have an extended face. Extended in the sense that it was as if someone held her cheeks and pulled them apart to stretch her face. All that was noted down was the year the photo was taken and a simple nickname.
Ray would've brushed them off for just a collection of freak show photographs if it wasn't for where the photos were taken. He recognised the food stands in some of the pictures. He saw a rusty iron gate in the background of a photo showing a man with a crooked neck and hands. Ray kept walking alongside the room as he kept searching through the pictures. He didn't notice the floor shifting under his feet. There's a photograph with the circus tent in the background, the focus on Siamese triplets that are connected by the head. Another photograph with two kids wearing blue overalls and green overalls looking at a man taller than the trees.
He looked to the last part of the left wall and there was a photograph with George in it. He's had his shirt ripped off, showing the faint outlines of hands all across his chest and stomach. They push through his organs. He smiles openly. He doesn't seem to mind the mouth that's trying to bite its way out of his throat. Ray can barely stand at the sight of it. His knees buckle underneath him as he tries to figure out why George kept this a secret. Or at least, why this was kept in the open for anyone to just wander into.
He tried to steady himself back to his feet when he noticed his hands stuck to the floor a bit. The floor was getting sticky now. He grabbed the flashlight and shined at it. It looked like spider webbing. Peering back behind him, Ray was met with the sight of a human body. It was being held to the ceiling with a rope of webbing by the neck. Fresh blood was pouring down from where the eyeballs should've been. It was Taylor. Ray's flashlight peers past Taylor's body and deep into the tent. There's more of them. They're covered head to toe with the webbing. Snacks for whoever's feasting here.
He glanced at the floor and what he could only count to be 10 eggs. Whatever was doing this could reproduce. Suddenly the question for why this room was barely guarded had a suitable answer. Ray tries to sit back up when he slips on the blood. He fell away from the webbing so that he couldn't be trapped. But Ray noticed that something listened. He hears running footsteps coming from where Taylor was and he tries to run as fast as he can. He bumps past the model and books it out of the circus tent.
He eyes the food stands he saw earlier to use as hiding places. He goes for the burger stand and hides behind the counter. The creature slices through the entrance and reveals itself to Ray. It was Mr. Mosey. He didn't have a human body anymore. It didn't have much of anything. It only had its face. It was a long face. It was a mixture of a snake and a spider, with Mr. Mosey's head as the base. Slimy arms with multiple joints jutted out of the long body at seemingly random. It was a creature Ray never wanted to see.
But then Mr. Mosey saw him.
Ray knew it as soon as he heard it shriek. And he could barely jump over the desk of the stand before Mr. Mosey slammed into it. Running straight to the chosen exit, Ray was sent into a full state of panic. A state that could only tell him to follow the plan and get away from the danger as soon as possible. This wasn't anything like Ray had been involved with before. A police chase meant nothing to this. 10 years in a jail cell meant nothing. Running over a family and blaming it on the booze was gone. He was now confronted with death with no meaningful way of escape yet he was not ready to go.
He jumped over the iron gate leading deeper into the woods. He can barely hold his flashlight without feeling like his hands are on fire. His heart is beating out of his chest and fatigue is quickly settling in but he still refused to die. He slipped away from the trail to try and lose Mr. Mosey. For a brief moment he even turns off his flashlight. That was what killed him.
As soon as he turns it off, he twists his ankle on some uneven land. He tumbles and falls down into a ditch. He tried to claw his way back out but it's already too late. The things from within the forest have taken notice of fresh meat. He could only see imperfect men and women approaching him from within the dark. They're all freaks. Worthy of the Freak Show. The last thing he can think of is how sharp their teeth are.
George sits down at his desks and reads the daily report. Two of the new guys are dead already. Including the one he made a room for just the other night. He's gravely disappointed but he places some of the blame on himself. The blame shifts back onto the classic excuse however: the world itself. It's not as if he can just reveal that this circus was made by Freaks. Telling him of all the dangers would either result in ignored advice or secrets spilling out to the world. The secret has to be kept until the new people discover it themselves.
While the ex-employees died in closed off sections of the park, the burger stand close by to the circus would need repairs. Maurice would be responsible for it. Getting a small, new scar on his hands was a suitable price for fixing the stand with a simple touch. A shame about the limits of the trick Maurice had, he would've liked to have gotten to know Ray better.
He flings the daily report off to his side and makes his walk to the toll booth. Along the way he meets Mr. Mosey, who had made its return to the shell. He gives it a brief scolding on scaring Ray to the outskirts of the forest before telling him to enjoy his meal in his nest. While it certainly was an inconvenience in barely having any new employees, it at least guaranteed this version of Mr. Mosey was well fed.
George eventually got to the toll booth and began his post, for a new day in Forestland. It was as if yesterday had never even happened.