Ferris Wheel

Ferris Wheel

A Story by Fading Poetic
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Horror Short Story

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       That Ferris Wheel turned and turned. I don't know if that in itself was what disturbed me the most, a giant steel behemoth spun perpetually by an unseen hand, or the fact that it was the only thing in this place that was moving. And oh did it move.

It was a place that I had been too before. Many many times in fact, if you could call coming here in a now often enough to be called a recurring dream. And surely a dream it was, for I had never seen such a place that I could recall, save the possibility of my earliest childhood moments. But that in and of itself couldn't be possible. Surely no parent in any right mind would take their child to a place such as

this.

It was just that Ferris Wheel you see, that damned Ferris Wheel. I mean, sure there were other buildings here, with their signs and their windows and their doors, but they didn't go anywhere. That I can assure you of. No, it was just that Ferris Wheel. That damned Ferris Wheel.

See, this place wasn't in color, though I've heard most people dream that way so I suppose that it shouldn't be strange to me. No, all the buildings were grey, grey, and black. All the trees were grey, back, and grey. Even the sky above was grey, black, and white. But that Ferris Wheel. That damned Ferris Wheel was red. It was red, and it was moving. It was moving and turning, and spinning. Little red cars slowly spinning around the giant wheel.

And it was such a sight, that Ferris Wheel, with its bright red cars moving against the greys and blacks of the buildings and trees and buildings and sky. It even made a noise, a noise like a slow metal door creaking open and closed, open and closed, open and closed. There was something about that noise that made me want to walk closer to that Ferris Wheel and run screaming away at the same time. It was the

only thing in this dream, this place, this dream that made any noise I can assure you. I had been here many times before.

I knew this dream well you see, because I had been here many times before and knew how it played out you see. This dream always began the same you see. You see, I would wake up standing here in this dream, this place you see, and everything would be in grey and black you see. And off in the distance there would be that Ferris Wheel you see, and I would try to walk toward it but I'd be frozen in place you see. Then that Ferris Wheel would stop, you see, and I would wake up. And off in the distance you see, that Ferris Wheel has stopped you see, and now I assure you I'll wake up.

I'll wake up.

I'll wake up.

...I'll wake up.

That Ferris Wheel is moving again. Surely I imagined that it stopped. Yes, that is what happened. I simply got so caught up in describing my dream to you that I imagined it stopping. Yes, that is what happened. That Ferris Wheel hasn't stopped moving yet, but it will soon, and I will wake up. That Ferris Wheel will stop moving and I will wake up and I will go to work at my job. You see, I'm an important man at my job. What I do, you ask? Well I, I don't know actually. I can't remember, but really in a dream you can't be expected to remember everything that happens in your real life. Otherwise how would we know we were just dreaming?

That Ferris Wheel stopped, surely so, for I don't hear it anymore. I will wake up now, I am sure, since that metal door is no longer swinging open and closed, open and closed, open and closed. My dream is silent so now it is time for me to wake up and start my day, for I must be going to work now.

But I didn't wake up. And that Ferris Wheel hadn't stopped moving, for I can see its cars still turning against the greys and whites and blacks and greys. But the metal door is not opening and closing anymore so how can that Ferris Wheel still be turning if the metal door is not opening and closing?

It is. It is opening and closing. I just couldn't hear it for a moment because I was busy explaining my dream to you. I shall simply stand here and be frozen until it stops moving and I wake up. Until I wake up and go to my job, my job where I am a very important man though I can't remember why I am a very important man or what my job is.

But I'm not. I'm not standing here, and I'm not frozen. Or rather, I am frozen but I'm not standing here. Now I am moving and this is not the dream I have every night because in my dream I don't move, so this dream is a new dream because I am not standing here. I am moving forward past the blacks and greys and under the whites and greys. I am moving forward but I am frozen so this is not the dream that I have been dreaming.

I'm standing past the blacks and greys and past the windows which are empty I assure you as I look the other way. I don't need to look into these windows to know they are empty because this is my dream but it's not. But I know these windows are empty. I know they are because in my dream they are even though this is not my dream I have dreamed.

I am in a clearing now far away from the other blacks and greys. I am under the grey and white though I can't see it through the black and grey that is over my head. A black and grey tent to cover me from the white and grey. The red is still far away though I can see it clearer. I can see the cars are not empty but I can't see the riders clearly. I am under a black and grey under a white and grey and the metal door has stopped opening and closing. I am looking down and the metal door has stopped opening and closing and I am holding a crank. I am looking down and the metal door has stopped opening and closing and I am holding a crank connected to a basin or a tub or a great container of some name.

There are faces looking back up at me, porcelain faces and plastic faces. Some faces are missing an eye or nose, but all are smiling back at me so I smile to them and wave. I think I wave for I see my hand lift from the crank and move. They smile to my wave and all their eyes, sometimes just one, watch my hand move. They are waiting for me to continue and I realize I must be quite rude to keep them waiting.

I smile and look back to the crank and watch my hands turn it. The metal door starts opening and closing and opening and closing and opening and closing. I see their faces as I turn my head, and none of them are smiling. Their eyes are twisted and their noses are wrinkled and their smiles are now wide open. I turn the crank and open the door. I turn the crank and close the door. I turn the crank and their faces are gone, a great container of crushed porcelain and plastic.

I am frozen again though I am standing forward, and the tent is fading behind me. I pass more of the black and greys beside me and the white and grey above me. Soon I will wake up because the metal door has stopped opening and closing and opening and closing. I will wake up and I will go to my job and I will do my important man.

That Ferris Wheel is getting closer. No I am getting closer to it, since Ferris Wheels cannot move. Or rather they can move, but not from the place where they are set. I am getting closer to that Ferris Wheel, now and now I can see its riders clearly. The cars are all filled on both sides with sitting dolls all rising and falling with their cars. I am closer now and can see the riders clearly. All are missing a head on their shoulders and I can see them clearly but they can't see me.

That Ferris Wheel stops turning and all the cars aren't full. Almost but not all are full and the empty door is open for me. That Ferris Wheel has stopped turning and the metal door has stopped opening and closing and opening and closing so it is time to do my job and wake up and go to my important man. It is time to wake up and do my job for I am wake up.

I stand forward.

I stand forward.

I stand forward.

The car is closed and I am frozen and that Ferris Wheel is turning. My car is rising and my car is falling and that Ferris Wheel is turning. Rising and falling, rising and falling, and that Ferris Wheel is slowing.

That Ferris Wheel stops and my car opens and closes.

That Ferris Wheel starts turning and my car rises and falls.

I am frozen in my seat and my car rises and falls. I am above the black and grey and I am next to the white and grey. Across from me a man sits in make up black and grey. He is smiling and his make up is smiling and his teeth are smiling at me.

That Ferris Wheel is turning faster now and my car is swinging slower. The man in make up black and grey smiles his black and white smile at me. I smile politely back at him, for I would not to be rude.

My car is at the top and that Ferris Wheel has stopped.

The man in make up black and grey is holding something in his hand white. It is long and slender and curved and wicked, and gripped in his knuckles white.

My car is at the top and that Ferris Wheel has stopped.

The man in make up black and grey is holding something in his hand red. It is long and slender and sharp and wicked and gripped in his knuckles red.

My car is at the bottom and that Ferris Wheel has stopped.

The man in make up black and grey is carrying something in his hand red. It is heavy and white with spots red, and gripped by hair of black. That Ferris Wheel is turning behind and my car is rising and falling.

The man in make up black and grey is carrying something in his hand red. He drops it in and turns a crank and an old metal door opens and closes and opens and closes and opens and closes.

© 2012 Fading Poetic


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Added on August 21, 2012
Last Updated on August 21, 2012
Tags: Ferris Wheel, Horror, Terror

Author

Fading Poetic
Fading Poetic

Denton, TX



About
I have two blogs as of right now, a journal which is listed as my website, and a blog containing all of my poetry. Poetry Blog: http://fadingpoetic.blogspot.com/ more..

Writing