American Horror Story: Freak Show Dandy Novels & Stories

The horrid sight and odor have my gut retching to the pit. That’s it! I have had enough of this shit! Damon is a demonic incarnate of whoever the devil in hell might be. My tail of courage tucked between my legs in cowardice, creeps slithering down my spine and the large part of my brain screaming at me to get the hell out of here before someone might catch me sneaking in this place. However, as I was about to abandon this petrifying quest, the sound of metal clacking caught my attention. Snapping my neck to the source, my heart sank to my feet with what I saw.

Darius ask, panting as he moves to me. “It involves your accident with the lady” He adds, whispering. I nod, shooting a glare in her direction before taking Darius to a secluded space. Changing back to my human form, I ask rather impatiently. “What is the matter? What did you stop me?” I reached my hand for a new pair of black pants and white long sleeved shirt stretched forward by one of my omegas. “My lord, your matter is more serious than we thought it to be at first. Habo found something…unpleasant”

It was carved into the shape of a smiling Bhramuth, and the warmth of her skin lingered on it. Now, without the pendant, Charlotte finally saw her colleagues, who had been there all along. "We have plenty of employees here. From now on, you'll be working with them," I told her. I clapped my hands happily as I watched terror spread across her face. "What is happening? What are these things?" Charlotte screamed. The workshop was crowded with ghosts. At that moment, they were all sizing her up. They looked disturbing—headless men, women with missing limbs, and even malformed infants. No one could witness such a sight and remain unshaken.

Elena disappeared back into the crowd before I could complain further, and I was left alone to nurse the drink while I scrolled through my phone. Five minutes later, I finished it, ten minutes later, the room felt warmer and fifteen minutes later, the floor felt strangely soft beneath my feet, and my stomach dropped. Something wasn’t right. I hadn’t had nearly enough alcohol to feel like this. The light blurred, voices echoed, and my pulse hammered. A cold knot formed in my chest. Someone had fucking messed with my drink, and before panic could fully settle in, a loud cheer erupted from the centre of the room. “Truth or Dare!” I heard Elena yell out, and everyone yelled in excitement. Soon,

"...lan? Dylan... DYLAN!" Dorry's lowered scream finally got to him and his tired eyes creaked to the side to see her with a widened gaze. "Dude are you trying to kill us all?" "Huh?" "You mixed in the wrong chemical and didn't realize it's been foaming up? What's got you so distracted?" Dylan blinked down to his side of the table and his eyes widened in shock, Dorry seemed to have cooled off the built up foam that now sizzled out but if it had gone on any longer things might've ended real bad.

"Girl, didn't anybody tell you? Stealing is just borrowing... indefinitely." I laugh, because she's ridiculous, and she's not getting this shirt. "Alright, Chucky, or Slasher in the Shower?" I wrinkle my nose. "Can we not watch a horror movie right now?" Darya sighs dramatically, putting her head in my lap. "Ugh! I come all the way over to be deprived of my trashy horror movies, and my yellow shirt. Is there noend to your cruelty?!" Smacking her forehead, I roll my eyes. "It's my shirt. And if it comes up missing I'm going to kill you."

The sound of bone meeting wood was sickeningly loud. I looked up, my vision swimming with red lights and white fire, and there he was. Dax. He looked like he’d crawled straight out of hell. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, his hair was a mess, and his heterochromia eyes were glowing with a silent, murderous fury that made the guys in the booth look like a little boys. He didn’t say a word to them. He just stepped over the bleeding man, grabbed my arm, and hauled me up.

Don’t get me wrong, I completely understand that we are very much a part of the business they did want in the first place so they have to keep up appearances and make themselves known. If anyone of my guys should be feared it would be Dante. He’s the jokester, the fool everyone thinks can’t be serious. Dante’s imagination and fascination with mid-evil torture divides a gore makes him one of those people who would take enjoyment out of watching someone slowly bleed out while watching them suffer until he gets his answers.

“What! Why didn’t you make sure before?! What if we’re lost?! Oh my God this is like some horror movie scene where we take a wrong turn and end up in the hands of bloodthirsty cannibals.” “Now, you’re just overreacting Dallas.” Skye shakes his head at his boyfriend’s ridiculousness. “That’s not going to happen.” That’s what most characters in a horror movie would say and look where it got them? Fucking dead in a ditch. Skye can tell Dallas he’s overreacting all he wants, but oh no, Dallas is not going to risk it. He doesn’t want to become cannibal dinner. “But, I’m too young to die.” Dallas says like he’s about to burst into tears.

But soon, she would understand the consequences of being miserly. One day, while Greta was mocking me as usual, Hilda gleefully watched on. She walked into the living room with a glass of water to keep her throat hydrated. However, her movements were cautious, and she shuffled around nervously. As she was about to sit down, I suddenly shouted, "Ah!" Startled, she plopped down onto the chair, and there was a loud popping sound. Hilda let out an ear-piercing scream. Trembling, she glanced downward and saw that her pants were completely soaked. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she fainted on the spot.