Mary Smith 

For a mere circus show I had to admit, the clowns were rather talented… a little too talented. I should have seen the signs earlier; I should have gotten us out of there as soon as I had seen the level of Magical prowess that these simple clowns had showed. Yet I didn’t. After years of living in the Britannic Empire peacefully. My senses for danger had been severely blunted. And I was unable to expect the unexpected. 

And so, when the venue went into lockdown and the clowns turned their full attention to the crowd. Their party tricks no longer on display. Their eyes shining with a menacing gleam. Killing intent radiating from their bodies like filth. I knew that we were in serious danger. 

Jon seemed to immediately notice the danger too, as he immediately grabbed a hold of me and Ed and dragged us down to the ground underneath the chair, just as a blast of red-hot fire shot towards and past us. Before exploding somewhere in the crowd above us. Screams and moans of pain filling up the once joyous room filled with cheers and applause. 

“What the hell is going on? Don’t tell me… are they terrorists from another country? Do you think… they’re here for us?” 

Jon asked me as he shielded me and Arthur with his own body. I could hear the slight panic in his voice, the slight quivering of his form as he was pressed up close against me. Jon was a brave man, but he wasn’t a fighter. He was a medic, a doctor. His job was to save lives not fight. That was supposed to be mine… though of course I gave up on that life long ago. After all, it didn’t suit me. 

“I don’t know. I’m not too sure. They could just be regular old terrorists trying to get money by keeping us as ransom… or maybe just plain old psychos hellbent on causing havoc.”  

I replied in a faint whisper, holding Ed close to my form and keeping him even further out of site in hopes of further protecting him. I had no idea what was going on or why… but that wasn’t the main thing on my mind. Right now, my main priority was Ed and keeping him safe. 

“If things get hectic. I’ll go down there and-” 

But before I could finish, there was another blast of fire close by, and the screams of death made my words halt in my throat.  

All around us, people and families were running and screaming. Some were pounding on the doors, calling for help and trying their best to escape the dire situation before being blown to smithereens by blasts of fire or being sliced in half by blades of wind. Others sat in place, tears streaming down their faces as they prayed to the Griffins to protect them whilst others hid like we were in hopes of going undiscovered. 

The place was engulfed in fire and smoke, and it was slowly becoming harder and harder to breathe. It was slowly getting to the point where, if something didn’t happen and soon, I’d have to intervene. However, that would cause more problems than one. 

And then, I heard it. The faint coughing and spluttering coming from the small child beneath me. My child. Ed… I had to do something. I had to fight. Even if it caused problems down the road… even if I died. I couldn’t let anything happen to him. He was… he is my everything. If something bad were to ever happen to him. I don’t know what I’d do. 

“Jon. Take Ed, I’m going to do something about-” 

However, I was once again cut off. But this time, it was by a loud, booming voice instead of explosions and screams.  

Finally, someone had shown up to save the day.  

Edward Smith 

It had happened so abruptly, so quickly. That I hardly had time to comprehend what was happening. In the blink of an eye, I sensed a flash of sever hostility and bloodlust and then in the next instant, Jon was pushing me and Mary to the ground and a ball of fire was flying over head before colliding with the crowd above and exploding with a loud boom. 

The screams and cries had been ear-splitting and heart wrenching. Filled with sorrow and pain. Though, they didn’t necessarily phase me. After all, I was used to the screams and cries of terror. Hell, in some cases I was responsible for those screams. Especially during my later years in life, when I had finally enacted my revenge. 

But what was the most pressing matter, at least for me that is, was that I was currently in danger. My life was in danger, and I was too young, to weak, to feeble… to protect myself, or anyone else for that matter in this situation. I was completely at the mercy of these attackers, like a lamb to the slaughter. And once again, I was completely reliant on my two parents for protection as Mary covered me and Jon covered her. 

It was strange to me, that even in this situation. Both of their natural instincts were to protect me, their offspring in this world. I never had children, and after the event at the church I didn’t let anyone, or anything become important to me. So, seeing this, seeing them, guard me and priorities my safety over there’s was… strange. Warm, nice and cozy. But nevertheless, strange and foreign to me.  

Mary and Jon had been having a whispered conversation throughout the entire situation, but my focus was entirely on the four clowns down on the stage, watching their every move, and my ears were ringing due to the bountiful explosions that had been going off all around us.  

I watched, as the giant man smashed his fists into the ground, sending up spiked shards of stone that ripped through the ground and sent long spikes of earth into the crowds from beneath them. Skewering them.  

I watched, as the woman who had used the water around her like a whip, lashed at people in the crowd, the force behind it so impactful that she was able to send people flying and snap necks like twigs. Hell, even a few of the whips Managed to decapitate the audience members. 

I watched, as the woman who spat flames created balls of fire in her palms and launched them into the crowd of people, which exploded on impact into a ball of scalding and skin melting fire. 

I watched, as the first clown, the man who had hovered down on a small tornado, launched blades of wind with a swipe of his arm that cut and tore through the stands and people alike. 

And for the first time, after so many years… in that very moment. I felt true, unadulterated fear. Fear that reminded me of that one night, almost fourteen years ago. For a split second, I was that fifteen year old boy again. Witnessing the massacre of the church and all its inhabitants. Holding the dead body of my closest friend… the girl that, not until my later years did I realise, was the girl that I loved.