Hello everyone!

I recently got introduced to Vocaloid (Yes, I've been living under a rock these past years, I know) and the song "Dark Woods Circus" really got to me. Yup, lots of fanfiction about that here, but looks like I'm the first one to combine the song and GC together (Although I'm not the first person to combine Vocaloid and GC, someone here already did that) And hey, Nightmare Circus, Dark Woods Circus. Coincidence, no?

Anyway, just a little something to get my mind working while a fix the writer's block I have with HF. :)

"...and for our last performance, ladies and gentlemen, I present you this fine specimen, our highlight..." He paused for dramatic effect, "The Blue-Fire Freak of Wonders!" He gestured impatiently to his female assistant, who cracked her whip as she led in a wolf adorned with tresses of flowers and shiny baubles, the poor beast looking as if it might faint from carrying a wheeled cart that was three times its size. With a grand flourish, she whisked off the cover, revealing a giant cage with solid iron bars, holding a small child dressed in striped tatters inside, his eyes looking beseechingly out to the stunned crowd, who immediately started jeering and pointing.

"Oh, look! What is that thing?"

"It's so freaky!" a group of women laughed.

"Come, Lass, shoot your fire!" The Ringmaster whispered vehemently towards his captive, who looked resolute. One could see that he had a choker on his throat that had a snaking chain shackled to a giant metal ball planted firmly at the corner of the cage, preventing any means of escape.

"Oretina, do something!" He snapped threateningly. She turned towards the cage and whispered something to Lass, who faltered a bit, but stayed still. The audience was beginning to become bored, whispering amongst themselves, a couple of them booing loudly.

"What kind of circus is this? I want my money back!" Someone shouted.

"Yeah! What's the point of carrying a freak if it can't even do anything?"

"Humph..." Dipping a hand into his pocket, he took out a transparent flask filled with clear liquid, shaking it a bit. At the sight of this, the captive began to back away, eyes opening in terrified alarm.


Without blinking an eye, he opened the cap and with a flicker of his wrist, bought down the contents of the flask, dousing the little boy.

The result was instantaneous; the boy screamed. Not one of those little wails you get from children that got a boo-boo on their knee, but a gut-wrenching, blood-curdling shriek of pure anguish that you hear from horror movies. The boy began to thrash on the floor of his cage, twitching in agonized spasms as he screamed and screamed, the liquid engraving horriffic scars onto his pale skin.

Only, this wasn't a horror movie.

As the excited audience ogled, the child's eyes turned white, his pupils vanishing. He threw back his head as a surreal flame began to materialize from his mouth, growing bigger and bigger as he vomited, the blue inferno swirling around, rising up almost to the ceiling, than exploding in a burst of fireworks, ending with a small pop. The audience gasped in awe.

"Well done, boy!" The Ringmaster chuckled, his fat belly bouncing up and down. "That's what I'm talking about!"

The spectators cheered wildly, delighted with the spectacle yet continuing to mock the boy for his 'freakishness', who was now slumped in the corner, breathing hard as he clutched at his chest, tears pooling in his now normal eyes.

The fat man continued to bow proudly as Oretina wheeled the sobbing 'Blue-Fire Freak' away.

"Now, Lass, what happened? You did it so well before, why couldn't you do it now?" The Lion Tamer asked gently with an undertone of scorn.

He sniffed, wiping his eyes with his misshapen sleeve. "B-because..."

"Now, Oretina, don't question the boy!" The Hammer Man clomped in, his beastly figure looming over the cages. "If he does it, he does it, and if he can't, there's always room for training, isn't there?" He leered at the youngster, who shrank back in terror; the Hammer Man was the chemist of the circus as well as the Ringmaster's right-hand man; the barrel he carried contained numerous mixtures of acids that he used for the other acts' "training".

"Yes, there's plenty of room for training. You can train as much as you want!" He threw his head back in laughter. "Would you like to train now, little Lass?"

Thankfully, Lass was spared from answering as the Ziddler boomed in, his giant boots arousing little puff balls of dust. "Insolent fools! What do you think you're doing?"

"All but helping out little actor, Master." Oretina responded smoothly. "He was quite the star, was he not?" She smirked at him as she picked up a Mini-Juggler and petted it fondly. Those little things scampered about, their garish makeup accentuating their beady eyes.

"That, he was." He acknowledged grumpily. "But the audience is getting restless; we need more stage acts. Ones that would captivate the world!" He looked around, gesturing at the tent. "There are too many empty cages here, just waiting to be filled. Do you not think so, my friends?"

"Then we shall fill them. We shall force them to come!"

The Ringmaster smacked the Hammer Man with his cane "Idiot! That will only alienate the people further. No, what we need is a more...charming approach. Something that will entice them...especially children. Little children." A maniacal grin spread on his pasty white face. "Think of how we can change them...make them stars!"

"But who will? I must care for the lions."

"And I have to work on the training procedures."

"No." He gripped his cane in thought. "Both of you cannot go. We need a more tactical approach. And who would be better suited than..."

Lass felt a flicker of hope. Were they going to let him out? It had been so long since he had seen the door to his cage open, to feel the breath of freedom upon him even if it were only an illusion. He tugged at his chain, wanting to be free of it.

"...the carrot-top! Bring him in!"

Defeated, Lass sank back down on the ground. He watched with tired eyes as the Lion Tamer got up and hauled in another cage, holding an orange-haired boy that lay limply on his bed of filthy straw. A pair of pointed ears distinguished him as an elf as he raised his green eyes.

"Get up!" The Ringmaster jabbed him harshly in the stomach, causing him to wince. "Get up you useless weed! Who told you to transform back? Or do I need to give you an extra length of training?" The elf gritted his teeth as he forced himself to transform back, coughing up bits of blood as he did so. The transformation was a painful process, and to do it repeatedly felt like all his bones were going to break, but the elf would rather have that than endure what was in the Ringmaster's pocket right now, hidden in that dreaded bottle.

"Oretina!" He barked. "Dress him back up into something flashy, something that would attract people's attention. I need to make a few flyers."

"On it." Oretina disappeared through a set of curtains to retrieve the said ornaments.

"And you! Check on our newest recruit in the other tent. If he is truly what I think he is, we can make big money off him!"

"Yes sir!"

The remaining clown smiled acidly at the two performers. "We will have another performance today, and by then it won't be..." they sneered. "...as lonely." Cackling, he clomped out, swinging his cane deliberately to strike the silverette.

They say salt on a wound was painful; to have a blow on a skin doused with acid was even more so. After the initial throb of pain faded a bit, Lass turned to the wolf. It sat docilely, but never a more crushed-looking beast had come across Lass's eyes, and he had seen a lot of creatures like him; tortured, trained, mutilated beyond death. "Who are you?" He whispered.

The wolf faintly shuffled, turning its furry head to look at the child. He growled in a non-threatening way, and Lass thought he could pick up a word under the growl. "Ryan? That's your name?"

It gave a slight nod.

"I'm sorry." He reached out, probably to pat the furry head which looked so downcast, but the Lion Tamer swung in, carrying a chest of sparkling ornaments and trinkets. "Time to pretty you up, little wolf! You'd better make a splash today!"

The 'little wolf' looked as if it might rip her throat out, but remained submissive as she began to drag his cart away, throwing another glance at Lass before turning a corner and disappearing out of sight.

Okay, clearly not one of my better stories, but I'll improve! Honest!

Disclaimer: Grand Chase belongs to- really? As if anyone's going to believe that I, a hermit teen, owns a gigantic game that lags every other second? -_-