The Calm and the Carnage

The Mystic Grove carnival was alive.

Cotton candy clouds floated through the air. Kids screamed on rusted rides. Cheap lights blinked in rainbow patterns, and music pumped from outdated speakers. It was the kind of chaos that made Scott feel… almost normal.

Almost.

Diana strolled beside him, biting into a fried Oreo with too much powdered sugar. "You sure this isn't a pity date?"

Scott laughed. "You're the one who said yes."

"Yeah, well. I have a weakness for doomed creatures."

Scott shot her a look, trying to tell if she was joking. She always hovered right on the edge of too much and not enough — and he liked it. More than he should.

They stopped near the carousel. The lights flickered above them, soft pink and gold, casting odd shadows.

"Okay," she said. "Real talk. Why me?"

Scott blinked. "What?"

"You could've asked Zelta. Or that girl from chemistry who stares at you like you're extra credit."

Scott smiled. "They're not you."

For a heartbeat, Diana just looked at him.

Then her phone buzzed.

She didn't check it right away — but something in her expression shifted. A tightening.

Scott noticed.

"You good?"

Before she could answer—

A scream tore through the air.

---

It came from behind the food stalls.

Crowds rippled back. People yelled. A group of teens sprinted the opposite direction.

Scott moved without thinking, shoving through the panicked herd.

He smelled it before he saw it — the thick copper of blood.

Then he heard it.

"SCOTT!"

Zelta.

He ran faster, skidding behind the cotton candy stand. What he saw stopped him cold.

Zelta stood frozen, hands over her mouth, eyes wide and glassy.

Two bodies lay crumpled in the alley behind the booth. Teenagers. Maybe sixteen. Blood soaked the gravel. Their throats torn. Their eyes still open.

Scott's stomach lurched.

Zelta turned to him, trembling. "I—I didn't touch them. I just came back here for my phone and—God, Scott, what did this?"

Scott looked at the wounds. The pattern. Not a knife. Not claws.

Teeth.

And something else — a smell. Like his. But wrong. Wild. Uncontrolled.

He crouched, barely breathing.

Zelta whispered, "Scott… why aren't you freaking out?"

Scott looked up.

Too slow. Too honest.

Zelta's expression shifted — not accusing. Just... afraid.

Before he could answer, Diana appeared behind them, eyes sharp and calculating.

"Police are coming," she said. "We need to get out of here. Now."

Zelta stared at her. "We can't just leave them—"

"Yes, we can," Diana snapped. "Unless you want to get dragged into something we don't understand."

Zelta hesitated. Then nodded, shaking.

Scott stood slowly, the pieces spinning too fast in his head. He looked at Diana. She was calm. Too calm.

"How'd you find us so fast?" he asked.

Diana shrugged. "I heard the scream."

But Scott didn't buy it.

Not fully.

Not anymore.

---

Later that night, Scott couldn't sleep.

He kept seeing the eyes of the bodies. Kept hearing Zelta's voice shaking.

The thing that did that… wasn't human.

And maybe neither was he.

But what haunted him more was the cold clarity in Diana's face.

Like she'd seen worse.