Story 1175: Carnival of the Unseen

They arrived when the fog was thickest.

No wagons, no engines, no tracks in the mud. Just there—overnight—between two crumbling tenements in East Grinvale, where even the rats refused to live. Tattered banners flapped in windless air. A rusted sign arched above the crooked entrance:

CARNIVAL OF THE UNSEEN – ONE NIGHT ONLY

SEE WHAT SHOULD NOT BE SEEN

Jasper Crane, the gravedigger, stood among the gathering crowd. He wasn’t sure why he had come. Perhaps it was the music—the calliope's broken tune twisting through the alleys like a whisper. Or maybe it was the voice he heard in dreams: “Come. Come and see.”

The crowd shuffled forward, coins vanishing into a gloved hand at the gate. No face behind the ticket booth, just shadows shifting behind grimy glass. The moment Jasper stepped through, the world twisted.

The carnival breathed.