My name is Ron, and I work in a circus. I’ve always been passionate about magic since I was a child, and I felt very lucky to be able to do what I love every day. But the truth is, lately I don’t know if I would call myself an “illusionist”.
The life of an artist in a traveling circus can be quite hectic. We spend most of our time traveling from city to city, setting up and taking down our equipment, and performing for enthusiastic (sometimes not so much) audiences. But I love the adrenaline and excitement that this life provides. However, something strange has been happening. I’ve been doing some “tricks” that shouldn’t be done. I think it would be best to give an example:
Two weeks ago I woke up feeling nauseous, as if my stomach was churning, wanting to vomit. I ran to the nearest bathroom and, as I doubled over the toilet, something strange happened. A colorful scarf started to come out of my mouth, like one of those scarves we use for tricks. I was horrified and tried to pull it out, but it seemed endless. The scarf kept coming out, going from deep blue to bright yellow, the sensation of the fabric scraping from my stomach to my throat made me completely agonized as I pulled more and more, until when I thought I was going to pass out, it finally stopped.
As soon as the scarf finally stopped coming out of my mouth, I sat there on the bathroom floor, trembling and sweating cold. What the hell had just happened to me? I struggled to get up, feeling weak and nauseous. I looked at the scarf that was now coiled on the floor, and a shiver ran down my spine. It wasn’t like in the tricks…
I decided to forget about it, to attribute it to a delirious fever, or maybe I accidentally swallowed the capsule of scarves while training and ended up not seeing it, but things didn’t stop. One day, while backstage, arranging my belongings, a real rabbit appeared out of nowhere in my backpack. I almost had a heart attack when I saw it jump out, looking at me with scared eyes. I was completely alone at that moment, and the rabbit was definitely real, wiggling its nose as it stared at me.
I tried to rationalize, telling myself that someone must have put the rabbit there as a tasteless joke. I even approached one of my friends, James, a weightlifter, and asked if he knew anything about it. But he just looked at me with a confused expression and said he had no idea what I was talking about. I insisted with other members but they also denied it.
The following days were tremendously stressful: playing cards involuntarily came out of my sleeve, I even ended up appearing in different places without remembering how I got there. Things were getting out of control, and I couldn’t find a logical explanation for what was happening to me. The members of the troupe were divided between those who were irritated, thinking I was teasing them with these tricks, and those (although they didn’t believe it was “real magic”) who thought I was having some kind of breakdown, feeling sorry for me.
Last week, as we were preparing for another performance, something terrible happened to James. He was helping to set up the stage when one of the structures gave way and hit him hard. I ran to help him, but when I got close and lifted him up, I saw something that made me freeze in terror.
From James’s wound, playing cards came out, one after the other, as if sliding out of him. He screamed in pain as I desperately tried to stop him, but the cards kept coming out as he pulled, covering the ground around him.
I felt powerless in the face of that macabre and bizarre scene, my head began to spin and my hands trembled, while my vision was flooded with jacks, queens, and aces, covered in blood. Panic spread quickly through the circus as the other members of the troupe ran to help James. Some tried to stop the endless flow of cards, while others desperately called for help. I remained there, paralyzed by the horror of what I was witnessing.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the cards stopped coming out of James’s body. He was pale and weak, but still conscious. We rushed him to the nearest hospital, where the doctors evidently didn’t believe what we told them.
While James was being treated, I was tormented by an overwhelming sense of guilt, not only mine but also the inquisitive looks of the other members, looking at me as if I had done that. I talked to James and he seemed to believe me. Gradually things began to normalize, the strange occurrences didn’t stop, but they decreased considerably, and I also gradually got used to it. We were going to a new city now, and we were ready for a big show, which for some reason, they thought it would be a good idea to put me as the main attraction. “If you’re so good at pulling cards out of others,” said our boss, “let’s see if you can do tricks as good for the audience.”
The anxiety grew within me as the visitors arrived and took their seats. I couldn’t get out of my head what had happened to James and the cards coming out of his body. The feeling of guilt and fear continued to haunt me, but I knew I needed to keep my composure for the sake of the circus.
When I finally stepped onto the stage, the audience was excited and eager to see the show. I started with some simple tricks, trying to keep my mind focused, but then the strangeness began.
While performing a disappearing trick, a feeling of dizziness overcame me. The room started spinning around me, and I felt as if I was being pulled, falling violently. The stage lights flickered frantically, and I could hear the excited and vibrant screams of the audience.
When I finally regained consciousness, I found myself sitting among them, surrounded by surprised and curious looks, who also seemed not to understand how I got there. There was a moment of tension until they finally burst into a loud and excited scream, applauding me.
But I wasn’t satisfied. I didn’t celebrate my “trick” or the applause of the audience. I was terrified. How had I ended up there? What had happened during the time I was “gone”?
I looked around, seeking answers, but all I saw were excited and curious faces, and my boss, with his jaw dropped. My mind was spinning in a whirlwind of thoughts as I tried to process what had just happened. I tried, at least for now, to regain my composure, stepping onto the stage for another trick:
The next one I had in mind was one of my favorites: making a dove appear out of nowhere. I took a deep breath and concentrated, trying to push away the disturbing thoughts that still lingered in my mind.
With a quick and fluid gesture, I opened my hand, hoping to see the white dove I had kept with me earlier magically appear before the audience’s eyes. But, to my surprise and horror, it wasn’t a dove that appeared.
Instead, a sinister raven, very large (too large to fit in my closed hands), emerged from the shadows, its wings flapping forcefully as it circled above my head. The audience fell silent, watching with wide eyes and shocked expressions. I desperately tried to control the situation, but the bird seemed as lost as I was, flying faster and lower, as if about to attack.
Then, in an instant, it dove towards my face, its sharp claws extended towards me. Instinctively, I raised my arms to protect myself, closing my eyes tightly.
When I finally opened my eyes, the bird had disappeared, leaving behind only the echo of the audience’s screams. I turned to face the crowd, expecting to see expressions of terror and horror, but instead, I saw smiles and applause. They were raving about the performance, and I tried to control the trembling in my legs. Fear took hold of me as cold sweat dripped from my forehead, and I wished it would end as soon as possible.
That’s when our presenter entered, and by God, what a lamentable choice to make:
“Ladies and gentlemen, our illusionist, Ron, has just treated us to another incredible spectacle! But now, get ready for the grand finale, a trick that will leave everyone speechless!”
My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to maintain composure. I didn’t know what was happening to me anymore, and the terror consuming me only grew with each passing second.
“No, Pit, don’t say it,” I thought, hoping I hadn’t guessed his next words.
The presenter continued, completely ignoring my state of despair. “He will perform the trick of tricks, the quintessence of magic! Don’t try this at home, kids, but now we will see him…”
Everything stopped in my mind; I didn’t want to, but I could see the stage assistants ascending, with her…
“Sawing the woman in half!!!”
The crowd roared, applauded, and I swear I had never seen the audience so excited. My heart almost stopped at Pit’s revelation. The sawing the woman in half trick? That was madness! I wasn’t prepared to face another disaster, but I had no choice. I had to try to control the situation as best as I could.
With trembling steps, I approached the large wooden trunk that would serve as the stage for the trick. My hands were sweaty, and I could barely hold the saw I was about to use. As I prepared to begin, the assistant lay down inside the trunk, a confident smile on her face.
I tried to focus, blocking out the terrifying thoughts that threatened to consume me. I knew I had to do my best to ensure her safety, but the feeling that something terrible was about to happen wouldn’t leave me.
With a hesitant movement, I started sawing the trunk in half, struggling to remain calm as the audience watched with anticipation. I prayed for everything to go well, but deep down, I knew something was wrong. And then, it happened.
The moment the saw went deeper into the wood, a horrible scream echoed through the circus. I stopped immediately, looking horrified as I saw blood starting to trickle from the hole. An anguished scream escaped the assistant’s lips, and I knew something terrible had happened. I let go of the saw, but it didn’t stop; in front of all of us, it began to descend, more and more as I and the others desperately tried to open the top part of the latch that held it. The audience was in shock, screaming and writhing as they tried to process what had just happened. But I was focused only on the assistant, hoping to find some sign of life.
When we finally managed to open the trunk, I was faced with a terrible scene. The two halves of the box fell, open and separated on the ground, inside them the assistant lay motionless and pale, with a deep cut running through her body. Blood flowed at an alarming rate, forming a dark pool. I just stood there, watching, as people fled, insanity hitting me, and I was so afraid I couldn’t move, the tension thrown over every nerve, as I watched her take her few, shallow, and last breaths. The police came to us later, but there was no logical explanation for what had happened. I was to blame, somehow, I knew it, but there simply was no evidence.
The expertise done on a cell phone video from one of the audience members clearly showed the saw moving on its own, and after a while, they just classified it as a fatality, a “work accident”. They promised to silence the murmurs of the population by portraying it as “a realistic and distasteful magic trick, but just a trick,” as long as we didn’t continue pressing the issue.
The circus had to leave that city, the heavy atmosphere among us, as we all seemed confused. Honestly, I don’t know how we’re going to move forward, my tricks became famous after the performance, I don’t want to do this again but there’s no way out, I don’t know how to do anything else and I need to eat. As I said in the title, I’m not an illusionist, and if we ever pass through your city, please don’t go to the show, the management banned the sawing the woman in half trick, and the next “main course” is an escape tank.