"Peter And The Carnival Of Evil" Page 15

What up, faithful readers! I've just launched the first podcast of PETER AND THE VAMPIRES, starting with the first 10 or so pages of "Peter And The Dead Men." Check it out here, at www.darrenpillsbury.com (also known as www.darrenpillsbury.blogspot.com), or download it on iTunes (select "Podcasts" from the list on the lefthand side of the page, then search for my name rather than "Peter And The Vampires").

Let me know what you think - and please tell anybody you think would be interested!

“We were born joined at the torso,” Leng continued. “We each share a heart, and lungs, and all other organs. We have only two arms and two legs, which we must work together to coordinate. For those among you who doubt…”

On cue, the arms pulled at the neck of the robes exposing a broad, bony chest, and two separate necks attached to the same set of shoulders. There was no way it was a trick. There were a few cries from the audience.

Leng set the black robes back in place and pulled a tiny wooden flute from somewhere inside them.

“There is something else we share, as well: mystical abilities. Mine is to hypnotize with music, and my brother’s is the transmigration of consciousness...the ability to switch souls, if you will.”

Eng nodded silently.

“Tonight, we will demonstrate for you the mystery of our powers. Do not fear – we have done this many times before. We would ask that you remain as quiet as possible, though…and do not panic.”

The arms lifted the flute to the lips of Leng, the goateed man, and he began playing a soft, haunting tune.

The flesh on Peter’s back turned to goosebumps.

The tune was the same one he had heard in his dream.

There it had been played on an organ; here, it was on a flute. But it was unmistakably the same music.

He didn’t have time to turn to Dill, though, because the top of the basket popped off and a cobra emerged. Peter knew it was a cobra because as soon as it reared up, it flared out its hood with the two white circles on the back and hissed at the Siamese twins.

The crowd shrieked, and the people on the front row of the bleachers stumbled over themselves trying to get as far away from the snake as possible.

Dill gasped. “Oh my gosh I’m glad we didn’t sit in the front, I woulda peed my pants.”

“See?” Peter whispered.

“Well…the second row would’ve been fine,” Dill said petulantly.

People were still trying to get away, but they needn’t have bothered – the snake wasn’t interested in them at all. It faced the brothers, half its body in the basket, the other half out, and began to weave back and forth to the tune Leng played.

There was a squeaking sound, and a rope lowered slowly from the darkness of the tent ceiling. At the rope’s end dangled an odd-looking harness with several leather straps. The harness swayed near Eng’s head, who used one arm to fasten it around his face. Meanwhile, Leng kept playing the flute with the other hand, and the cobra kept swaying back and forth.

“I am doing this to protect my brother,” Eng explained to the audience, as he snapped the last strap into place. The rope was still attached to the top of the harness, though it was slack as it stretched off up into the darkness. “And now…I will exchange minds with the cobra.”

He stared at the cobra, which turned slightly to face him. Eng’s eyes slowly defocused, and his mouth went limp. Then his facial features began to contort angrily. His eyes rolled from side to side, and he swung his head around to face Leng.

Leng dropped the flute from his lips and yelled, “NOW!”

Eng hissed loudly and flung his head forward to bite Leng. His teeth would have sunk into his brother’s face had the rope above him not snapped tight at that exact moment. The leather straps pulled against his forehead and chin and restrained him from biting Leng.

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