Read The Magpye: Circus for Free Online

the vans and run the generator, Magpye
suspected. They had done the same at the circus. When you lived in
caravans and tents, fuel was always important. It was also
dangerous. One spark and the whole place would go up.
    Two guards left, and it needed
to be up close and personal. It was time for Dorothy.
    When he'd been alive, Dorothy
had been nearly seven feet tall, weighed over 300lbs, and had a
bright red beard that fell past his naval. He'd been the circus'
bearded lady, read a little tarot from time to time, but his main
role was as the circus doctor. Injuries were a common occurrence
and every circus had its own physician. Dorothy knew every bone in
the human body and, since he'd been living in Magpye's head, he'd
taken to breaking them.
    The first guard stepped out
from behind the cage, his assault rifle trained on Magpye. He was
smaller than the others had been, but wiry. A scrapper. A scared
scrapper, backed into a corner.
    "I know who you are."
    "I doubt it. Seeing as I don't.
And if I were you, I wouldn't pull that trigger."
    Magpye heard the second guard
step out behind him. He was moving slowly, carefully, but couldn't
disguise his footfalls in the inch or so of gas that was on the
floor.
    "Don't need to shoot you," said
the first guard, taking a step forward. "Just need you to stand
still."
    Magpye ducked, and Piotr's arms
closed on nothing but air as he lunged for Magpye. Tipping himself
forward, Magpye tucked into a roll before exploding upwards, legs
extended, the metal heels of his boots connecting with the first
guard's jaw. Bone splintered and Magpye heard the sound of the
guard's jaw dislocating from his skull. Landing on his feet next
the guard's unconscious body, Magpye turned to face Piotr.
    The big Russian took a careful
step forward. The children, still docile, watched him. This one
they know, Magpye realised.
    "You don't take the children,"
said Piotr, his accent thick. "They belong to me."
    "We'll see."
    Dorothy's ghost stepped forward
in Magpye's mind. In death, he was somehow even larger than he'd
been when he was alive. He cracked his spectral knuckles loudly
inside Magpye's head. "He's a big one," said the ghost. "I'm going
to need a knife."
    Circling Piotr, Magpye reached
into his jacket and pulled a short blade. The Russian looked at
it.
    "I cook with bigger knives than
that, little man."
    He rushed forward, trying to
get inside Magpye's reach and remove the blade's advantage. Magpye
spun away and brought his leg up in a snap kick. The boot connected
with the Russian's side, but it was like kicking a wall. The
Russian smiled, grabbed Magpye's leg, and twisted, sending the
masked man onto the floor.
    "Told you he was a big one,"
said Dorothy.
    Magpye rolled onto his back
just in time to catch Piotr's foot coming down towards his face. He
threw a gauntleted forearm up, blocking the blow. The big Russian
pushed down, using his weight to force Magpye's arm across his own
throat. Gasping for air, Magpye fumbled with the knife in his free
hand.
    "Behind the knee," sighed
Dorothy. "We've been through this. Lateral and medial hamstring
tendons."
    Vision blurring, Magpye jammed the short blade into the
back of the Russian's knee and yanked it across. The knife was
sharp, parting the flesh easily. Magpye dug in deeper and pulled on
the blade again, this time feeling the resounding snap of the
severed tendons. Piotr toppled , clutching his knee.
Blood mixed with the gasoline. Rolling quickly over, Magpye shoved
the blade into Piotr's other knee. It took just one tear to finish
crippling the Russian. Face down, struggling to breathe as gasoline
found its way into his mouth and nostrils, the Russian was
finished.
    Magpye struggled to his feet,
gasping for breath. He steadied himself on the cage for a second.
It was done. As his breathing slowed to normal, he felt a small
cold hand resting on top of his. One of the children, one somehow
more lucid than the rest, was looking up at him. Ten, maybe eleven,
she