Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
As we step outside, the night air is cool against my skin. We move silently towards the main tent, our footsteps muffled by the grass. The circus is in full swing, the sounds of laughter and music a stark contrast to the tension simmering between us. In the shadows behind the main tent, we spot the stagehand, Malcolm. His eyes flicker with recognition and guilt as we approach.
“Tell me about Alexander Grey,” I demand, my voice low and commanding.
Malcolm’s eyes dart around, searching for an escape. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammers, but the tremor in his voice betrays him.
“Don’t lie to me,” I growl, stepping closer. “He’s been manipulating you, hasn’t he? Using mind control techniques to make you sabotage the circus.”
Malcolm breaks down, tears streaming down his face. “Yes–I–I think so. He made me do it. I didn’t want to, but he—he got inside my head. He threatened, it’s like I couldn’t resist.”
“Where is he?” Lila asks, her voice soft but firm.
The stagehand points towards a secluded area of the circus grounds. “There’s a hidden tent. That’s where he operates.”
We move swiftly, the Malcolm’s confession propelling us forward. In the darkness, we find the tent, its entrance barely visible among the trees. Inside, strange equipment hums softly, and notes are scattered across a makeshift desk.
Lila’s sharp intake of breath echoes my own shock as we take in the scene. Diagrams of the circus, hypnosis tools, and a detailed map with key sabotage points marked. It’s all here, laid out with meticulous precision. I recognize Alexander’s handwriting, the same precise script that once detailed military operations now plotting the downfall of the circus.
“This is it,” I say, my voice a mix of anger and resolve. “We’ve found him.”
“We need to move fast,” Lila says, her eyes meeting mine with a fiery determination. “Before he strikes again.”
I nod, my jaw set.
As we step out of the tent, the night feels charged with new purpose. We’ve uncovered the criminal’s identity, and now it’s time to confront him and end this once and for all. The circus’s fate hangs in the balance.
The night air is thick with tension as Lila and I move silently through the shadows of the circus grounds. Every sense is heightened, every sound amplified. I catch a faint rustling ahead, and we creep closer, our footsteps barely making a sound on the soft grass.
There, under the dim light of a distant lantern, stands Alexander Grey. His tall, lean frame is bent over a rigging rope, fingers deftly setting another trap. He straightens and turns, catching sight of us. His face is shadowed, but his eyes gleam with malevolent satisfaction.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Jasper Kane,” Alexander drawls, his voice low and mocking. “And you brought company. How quaint.”
“Alexander,” I say, stepping forward, my voice calm but firm. “It’s over. We know everything.”
He laughs, the sound sharp and grating. “Do you, now? You always were too naïve, Jasper. Too weak to see the bigger picture. You left when things got tough, and now look at you. Playing security guard in a fucking circus. You always were a clown.”
“Better that than destroying lives for some twisted sense of revenge,” I retort, feeling the anger rise but keeping it controlled.
Alexander’s eyes narrow. “Revenge? No, this is justice. You betrayed the project, betrayed me. Your little circus here is just collateral damage.”
Lila steps beside me, her presence a steadying force. “Your twisted games end here, Alexander. We won’t let you hurt anyone else.”
Alexander’s smile widens, cold and predatory. “We’ll see about that.”
In a heartbeat, he lunges, his hands outstretched. I meet him head-on, the force of our collision sending us both sprawling into the open area of the big top. The glare of the spotlights blinds us momentarily, casting harsh shadows and turning the confrontation into a surreal tableau.
The audience and performers, blissfully unaware of the danger, continue with their routines, the rising murmur of the crowd and the distant music creating an almost dissonant backdrop to our struggle. Alexander and I grapple, his hands trying to reach my temples, to use his mind control techniques.
“Give it up, Jasper,” he sneers, his grip tightening. “You can’t resist forever.”
I grit my teeth, focusing every ounce of willpower to block him out. “You’re wrong, Alexander. I’ve learned to fight back.”
The physical struggle intensifies, a blur of motion and raw force. I feel his attempts to infiltrate my mind, but I push back with everything I have. Our breaths come in harsh gasps, the heated, intense dialogue punctuating the fight.
“You’re still the same scared little boy,” he hisses. “Always running away.”
“And you’re still a madman,” I counter, breaking free and landing a solid punch. “Always thinking you’re invincible. Really, you’re just fucking delusional.”
Alexander stumbles, the impact finally slowing him down. I take advantage, using a move I learned in the military to subdue him. He crashes to the ground, breathing hard, his eyes filled with a mixture of rage and disbelief.