This little piece is inspired by a conversation about online documents by
that seems to have taken on a life of its own. I quickly penned (typed?) this in an hour. ’s amazing art solidified my decision to write it. Check out ’s take on The Suff !See the Notes post below for the full time line.
1926
Jackie’s green eyes narrowed, a mean smile on her perfect red lips. She looked terribly beautiful even while terrorising her peers. The stockings on her feet were silk and the furs real. Cropped below her chin, her perfect bob shone with the most expensive of pomades.
Yes, Jaqueline “Jackie” le Fay was the most beautiful woman in Trenton. She crossed her arms while looking at Francis “Fanny” Gotlieb, the town grocer’s mousey, bespectacled daughter.
Around them, the Halloween Festival was in full swing. Colored banners fluttered through the air, men walked on stilts, and clowns honked their horns at pretty girls.
Raising a perfectly arched and penciled brow, Jackie pointed noted Fanny’s sad grey stockings. “Got your glad rags on, don’t you? It’s really the berries.”
“And how!” agreed Dot. She was a tiny young woman; freckled and blonde. Her blue eyes gleamed like one of King Oberon’s own, erring more toward malevolence than mischief.
Dot released a high-pitched giggle. The sound was followed by snort from the others: two boys—Ralph and Bobby—and Dot’s identical twin sister, Edie.
The music was loud; loud enough to keep their conversation private.
Fanny did not laugh. She crossed her arms and stared at the grass beneath her feet.
“Say, Fanny,” Jackie said, flashing perfect white teeth. “Let’s have some fun.”
“I… I have to go,” whispered Fanny. She tried to squeeze past, but Bobby—big brute that he was—easily pushed her back against the striped tent wall.
Jackie sneered as Fanny’s large brown eyes filled with tears. Still, wasn’t good if they were caught being physical.
“No pushing, Bobby, you bimbo,” said Jackie.
Once more, Jackie addressed Fanny. “Don’t worry, doll. We just want to be friends.” She paused, looking around for potential witnesses.
There were none.
When Jackie returned her attention to Fanny, that same mean-spirited smile returned to her mouth.
“I know!” Jackie said. “Let’s play hide n’ seek in the freak show tent.”
Fanny clasped her hands fretfully. “The freak show tent?” she echoed.
“Yeah,” said Edie. She feigned concern. “What’s wrong? You’re not scared of them, are you?”
“Well—” began Fanny before being interrupted loudly by Edie.
“No need to be chicken, Fanny! Dot and I will go with you.”
The twins looped their arms forcefully through Fanny’s.
“C’mon, Bobby,” said Dot. “Let’s help Fanny pick a hiding spot. Jackie and Ralph can seek.”
With that, poor Fanny was dragged off into the tent.
Once they were gone—along with the entertainment—Jackie’s smile faded. Abandoning Fanny in the dark tent was all in good fun, but it was a pity she wouldn’t get to see the girl cry for her mommy.
“Hopefully, they stick her near that witch,” said Ralph. He passed a hand over his thick black hair.
“Witch?” asked Jackie with mild curiosity.
“Yeah, she looks at you all weird and then they force you into the mirror maze. Spooky stuff.”
“Spooky to you, pussy cat,” quipped Jackie.
Ralph’s shoulder’s sagged.
Jackie knew he wanted attention today. Whatever. She wasn’t in a mood to give it.
“Butt me,” demanded Jackie, holding out two fingers.
So quickly he nearly dropped his pack, Ralph procured his cigarettes. Within moments, it was lit and between Jackie’s lips.
Ralph watched her inhale with a gleam in his eye. Jackie pretended not to notice.
“Cash or check, Jackie?” asked Ralph with a grin. He leaned forward. “C’mon, baby, we’re all alone.”
Jackie rolled her eyes, pushing his face away with a manicured hand. “Bank’s closed.”
“So, check?”
“So, beat it, Ralph.”
“You know you’re a real wet blanket sometimes.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He slunk away, leaving Jackie to her cigarette and thoughts.
She watched the opening of the freak tent. Bobby, Edie, and Dot were not smart enough to navigate through the hall of mirrors without getting scared themselves. It would be a while before they found their ways out, likely accompanied by obnoxious laughter. Then, Dot and Bobby would go off somewhere to neck. How boring.
They’d need to up the ante with Fanny. She was getting too used to them and their antics. Maybe (and it might take some convincing) Jackie could persuade the others to tie Franny to the dunk tank after the carnival closed for the night.
That would be fun.
Exhaling a puff of smoke, something caught Jackie’s eye.
To her left was a series of rags floating in the breeze—probably the carnival staff’s laundry. Within it, half-hidden, was a man.
He was heavily moustached, staring with strange and wide eyes.
Jackie was used to leering. She tapped the ash from her cigarette to pointedly stare back at the man.
He did not look away.
Starting to grow uncomfortable, Jackie shouted, “What’re you looking at, freak?”
The stranger continued to stare.
Throwing down her cigarette, Jackie pointed. “I’ll call the cops.”
Still, he stared.
Jackie stomped the cigarette out onto the grass and headed over. As she did, the wind blew. The rags floated and fluttered every which way. In a moment, the man disappeared within.
“Oh no you don’t,” growled Jackie. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a small razor blade. It was tiny, just small enough to cut someone’s face before they realised what hit them.
“I’ll cut that stupid haunted look right out those peepers,” Jackie whispered to herself.
She burst into the thick forest of white linen.
At the very opposite end of the laundry line, he stood.
Jackie stopped in her tracks.
For the first time, she got a proper look at the strange man. Her confidence waned.
He was ugly. Not in an annoying way, but like something purposefully and cruelly made.
His arms were too long, legs too short, eyes too wide.
“Stop… stop looking at me like… like that,” said Jackie. Her voice faltered, trailing off in growing fear.
But he did not look away. He only looked with greater intensity, eyes impossibly widening and darkening.
Jackie saw it, then.
Everything.
Every dark and mad possibility, how he suffered with knowledge.
The horrific madness that lay behind those terrible eyes… she understood it and she did not wish to.
His arms reached out toward her, spindly fingers grasping. Somehow, Jackie understood that he wanted an embrace. For her to join him.
Oh, how terrible!
Over the wind, Jackie could hear the man whispering. “The suffering! Oh, the suffering! The suffering!” His voice crackled like dry leaves, volume rising and fading like the wind.
Jackie let out a horrific, chilling scream.
The voice grew louder and louder, drowning out her own cries of terror. Her blood thundered in her ears, charging and churning like the stampede of a thousand horses. All the while, his arms continued to reach for her.
They were nearly upon her!
The suffering! The suffering! The suff—
read on
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Many thanks!
Gah so good ugh. 🫥
Ah, an origin story! I love it! It's the stuff of nightmares.