At a carnival, there was a job offer for a night guard to watch over the place at night. There was nothing to steal from it, but Mark knew that thieves got creative when desperate. So he handed in his application, and on the same day, he was hired. Mark knew it was a golden opportunity, so he took it. The carnival looked gorgeous in the ad. Painted cherry reds and berry blues, with various rides and shops. There was a Ferris wheel and a popcorn shop. It was due for its grand opening next week.
That night was Mark’s first shift. It was a simple job. Watch over the place and make sure thieves don’t get in. That was pretty much it. The manager told him to call if anything went wrong and to work from 10 pm to 6 am. There was no training needed. The first few hours went great. He sat, smoking his cigarette, watching the endless night sky. He was gonna get paid big for this. The best part was that there was nobody around to bother him. It was just him and this job. Hours passed by, and it remained quiet. Mark took the time to admire the carnival.
Then, around 2:30 in the morning, Mark was on his fifth cigarette. He turned his head, as if he heard something. It sounded like laughter. Shrugging it off, he continued with his smoke. Then it happened again. Louder. Mark swore he heard something else with it. Music and loud voices. It sounded like a carnival. The hell? Mark got up, confused. It’s almost 3 am, and this shouldn’t be happening. Maybe this is why I was called to work here tonight. Probably dumb teenagers or something. So he got up to confront them.
As he started walking over, though, he stopped himself. What am I doing? This ain’t in my pay grade to police drunk teenagers. Mark parked himself next to the carnival gate and stood smoking. As he stood there, he noticed something odd. The voices and the sounds of the carnival were getting closer. Like every 10 minutes, the volume gradually increased. Mark put in his earplugs and returned to smoking, unbothered. The volume continued until it was right outside the gate. Mark wasn’t worried because the gate was locked. Again, he went about his own business. The gate began to shimmy and waver, and he heard someone or something trying to break the lock. The lock was made out of strong steel so it wouldn’t break easily. Still, Mark got up to stop them.
He walked to the gate to stop the person from breaking in. When he went over, nobody was there outside. He yelled at them to go away, hoping that would work. He looked at the gate with a flashlight and paused. The gate was gray and white. Mark rolled his eyes and rubbed at it to see what paint it was. Stupid teenagers. But when he pulled his hand away, there was no paint on it. It was just gray and white. He rubbed at it harder. Nothing. Bits of the gate came off on his fingers. What the hell? For the first time that night, Mark was rattled. As he was trying to understand what was happening, he heard someone fumbling with the lock on the back. When Mark walked over to the gate, it was the same result as the main gate. Monochrome. As the gate spread with black and white, the ground began turning. Mark called the manager. But the manager didn’t answer. Mark closed the phone harshly. Yeah, of course. It’s three in the fucking morning. Everyone’s asleep. It’s on me now to stop this. Mark thought of what to do to catch the culprit. But he didn’t know.
The music and carnival sounds continued outside the gates as the
monochrome spread to parts of the carnival. And then it was completely covered. Mark stood there for a moment, holding his breath. After a moment, he looked down. To his horror, his feet began to turn gray and white. Mark looked at the fence and took a breath. Then he did a running jump and grabbed onto it. As he did so, parts of it crumbled in his hand. It felt like…rust? He jumped down and slowly stood up. It was silent and empty. The sounds from earlier completely stopped. He dared a look back at the fence. There was nothing there. It was just the fence. The lights in the park flickered and flashed behind him.
Mark tried calling the manager when he got back, but never got through. We’re sorry, but this number has been turned off or disconnected. Confused, he googled the name of the carnival. It was supposed to open on July 9, 1978, but it closed down and was abandoned a week prior. There had been a terrible accident. The manager had been killed in a freak construction incident. He looked for the job ad, but it didn’t exist. Mark yawned and was about to close his computer. But then something caught his eye. The time on his computer. It read July 9th. It was like the manager was speaking to him from the abyss.
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