"People love to be scared! Yes, it's true. They love that rush of adrenaline they get when frightened. Oh, people are foolish."

Minc was nearing his eighties and in some ways he was fear. He seemed to embody death and he took great pride in that fact. He was very tall, nearing 6'5", and thin as a skeleton. His hair was white as bone, his eyes were sunken into his skull and raven wing black, and he dressed every day in a black suit. Minc was the source of many a person's fear and his coal button eyes glinted beautifully at that fact.

"People don't seem to realize that their fear can kill them," he said as he walked along inside the perimeter of the ring at his fearcus. "That lovely rush of adrenaline stops the heart. Come to me."

Boy was nine and every bit the opposite of Minc. He loved life and all the colors of the world. He valued companionship and talked to everyone he met when he was in town picking things up for Minc. His hair was a soft brown that matched his brilliant chocolate eyes. Being an apprentice to one of the most feared men in the city didn't seem to bother him, though. He loved fear just as much as the next person and it was always fun to see people walking out of the tent with smiles on their faces and their hands on their hearts, whispering to their companions how much they were frightened. In his eyes, Minc gave the people of the city life. Minc let them know they were alive.

Minc rested a spidery hand on Boy's shoulder and craned down so he was eye level with the child. "You will learn, Boy, the difference between fun fear and deathly fear. I do not wish," he said, standing up straight and regal, "to murder people. My fear is to get the heart moving and to make people value what they have, but we have two shows a night, you know. One for fun and one for death. Come, Boy, we start the second show soon. We are having a small crowd of three tonight. It was requested that we host the show to help pass along three people of varying health. I can only oblige."

Boy frowned. He knew about the second shows of the night, the ones where people seldom left. Four would walk in and two would walk out, wiping sweat from their brows. Boy always thought it was curious, but he'd never said anything.

"You kill people?" he asked, taking his newsboy hat from his head. "You harm the people?"

Minc scowled. "It is not my choice, Boy. We have been contracted by the city to make people live and to make them die. We are here to serve our purpose. We provide fear and it is good business. We are in no place to argue, do you understand?"

Boy shook his head. How could there be any way to justify murdering someone? People were amazing and so full of life. Their laughter and tears were so fresh and exciting and the way their faces moved and the sounds of their voices were beautiful. Boy loved people. He couldn't find it in his mind to make harming someone right.

"It is our job, Boy," Minc said, looking away from the child. "I have not shown you this part of the fearcus to save you, but you seem passionate about your apprenticeship. I have lost another worker, as you know. Lanny has left us because of the work. His heart could not handle it and he passed away. I need someone to help me with this half of the show and you're young and full of energy. You will help me after the show is over. For now, I need you to stand at the entry and take the money. I will explain more during the show."

Boy stood at the entrance and took the money from the three that were to be admitted. The first was a lady that looked to be in her mid-forties. She had jet black hair with a few sprinkles of gray and wizened blue eyes. She dressed similar to Minc in a black gown, much too fancy for the fearcus. Boy just smiled at her as he took her money and waved his hand. The next was a young boy, maybe his age, with blonde hair and green eyes. He was dressed in green shorts and a black t-shirt and looked to have the world in his eyes. The last was an elderly man, maybe even older than Minc, dressed in red trousers and a white button up. He seemed eccentric and overall genial. Boy followed him into the tent, pulling down the entrance flap as he did.

Minc stood away in the shadows as the three people assembled themselves in the stands. They all looked around, frowning that there was really no one else there.

"You will say nothing during the show," Minc said, touching Boy's shoulder. "You will say nothing afterwards. We have a lot of work ahead of us tonight, Boy, and I cannot have you hindering our progress with questions. Understand?"

He didn't, but nodded anyway. These three people, seemingly lovely people, were about to lose their lives depending on what Minc showed them. How was that right? He just didn't understand it. How was the world that cruel?

"Welcome!" Minc shouted, spreading his arms out wide as a spotlight hit him. "You have entered the tent of the fearcus and you are about to come face to face with your fears. I promise that tonight you will meet what you fear the most and you will not leave without feeling wholly terrified. It is our guarantee that you will be dead scared." He winked an inky eye and turned in a circle, disappearing into the shadows again. "Please remain in your seats at all times, it's for your safety."

He put his hand on Boy's shoulder and leaned against the wooden pole. "Say nothing," he whispered, pressing a finger to his own dried out lips. "We must let fear takes its course."

"But what about the people? What have they done?"

Minc looked at the elderly man, the wizened woman, and the young boy and merely shrugged his shoulders. "It is not my place to ask questions. I am but the dealer of death. I've no say in who dies or lives. Others higher than me decide that."

"Are you God?" Boy asked, narrowing his eyes.

Minc smiled, making his ancient face look terrifying. Boy could see why people feared his appearance. "I'm much closer to Lucifer."

The spotlight turned on again and lit up in the center of the ring was a spider. It was huge, maybe seven feet tall and at least five feet wide. Boy's stomach churned with disgust and he could feel the hairy legs creeping on his back as the thing crept across the ground. The woman put a hand to her chest and her eyes widened. The man and boy looked bored.

"Minc," Boy whispered, looking up at his master.

Minc shook his head and held tighter to the boy's shoulder. Everything had to go right. It was their job whether they liked it or not.

The spider crawled to where the woman sat and ascended the seats. The woman trembled and her mouth opened in a scream. The man and the boy applauded. It was clearly worth the six dollars they'd paid. The spider backed up and crawled away, the spotlight went out shrouding them in darkness once again. Boy saw the woman fall to her side on the bench and anyone's guess could have been that she'd fainted. Boy knew otherwise.

A scream reached Boy's ears and he peered through the darkness, squinting his eyes so much it hurt. Another scream and another came to him before the light flicked on and the spotlight squeaked to where the boy had been. Now the boy's seat was raised fifteen feet in the air and he was peering over the side.

"The younger they are," Minc said into Boy's ear, "the harder it is to frighten them to death. You must push your limitations, Boy. I promise you everything works out in the end. I've been doing this since I was seventeen years old. I know."

Boy nodded as the boy on the rising seat continued to scream. Boy could almost see the tears drenching the child's face and felt the strongest pity for him. The light went out and the scream died away. The old man clapped and laughed. He was enjoying his show.

"The elderly have lived through a lot," Minc said, "and to frighten them takes even more than the young. The elderly have lived through many years of spiders and heights so you must find what truly frightens them. Death is nothing to fear for you have lived and life is nothing. What is it that terrifies an elderly person?"

"Being buried alive," Boy whispered, the words barely audible as the spotlight lit again and focused on the old man.

"Good show!" the old man shouted, waving his hand.

Boy closed his eyes as the old man disappeared from view. The sound of screaming filled his ears as it did every night. He loved the screaming. When he stood at the tent entrance he would laugh and kick his feet as he peeked in through the flap, trying to catch a glimpse of what was frightening them. Tonight, though, it was not the screams of fear reaching his ears but screams of anguish. These people were afraid to face their fears so magnified in front of them. Boy couldn't blame them. The fears he held he didn't want to face.

Minc pushed his shoulder gently. "Come, Boy, we must collect them and give the bodies to the city."

Boy's dark eyes widened. "What?" he squeaked.

"We must move the bodies and clear the arena," Minc said, all ready striding over the floor as the lights flicked on. "Tomorrow night we will do this again. Every night, Boy, you will do this. It is now your job. When I pass away it will be your duty to continue this obligation. I trust that you will do it."

"But Minc, you're killing people," Boy said as he trailed after his master. "Don't the city care?"

Minc smiled and chuckled at the boy's naivete. "I wish they did," he said, "but it's the city that I do this work for. The fearcus was set up by the city to dispose of people they needed to be rid of. What these people have done, I do not know, but I am here to get rid of them. I provide the fear in a magnified version and the people die of natural causes. Each night we deal with two to six heart attacks." He shrugged. "It was terrible at first, Boy, but I have died since then. My heart is wary and my soul is torn. I do not know," he looked upwards as he ascended the steps to the wizened woman, "if I am even a person anymore or if I am truly just Death. I understand if this position is not what you want anymore, Boy, but you are all I have for the fearcus to continue. Now," he bent and picked up the woman's arms, "grab her legs and help me."

"Grab her...?" Boy looked at the woman. Her eyes were still wide open and her jaw was slack. She was still in the process of screaming out. Her eyes still saw the spider. Boy cringed and took a step back. "I cannot."

"And why is that?" Minc asked, looking bored.

"I... I'm," Boy gulped and pulled at his collar. "This is my fear! I fear the dead!"

"You fear the dead?" Minc said, cocking his head to the side. "They do nothing! They just sit here! I could kick this woman and she would do nothing. What is to fear?"

Boy looked at the frightened woman and closed his eyes, turning his back on his master. "Loss."

"Do you believe in God?"

The gun was set against my temple. My heart was beating quickly, pounding like a caged bird against my ribcage, and I could feel the perspiration rolling down my back and sticking my hair to my neck. Blood was leaking steadily from the wound in my leg, coating my hands as I tried to apply pressure. I looked up into the dark eyes of the boy asking me the question.

I had been so kind to this boy. I'd smiled at him just yesterday and said good morning. He'd nodded and reciprocated the smile. We were practically friends by Columbine standards. I looked to the boy standing beside him and frowned. I was also kind to him. I didn't get it. Why were they doing this? Why were they hurting us when we'd done nothing to them? I'd only ever been nice, but maybe that was the problem.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at Richard. He was sitting against the building, his hands locked in prayer. His lips moved swiftly and I could tell he was sending one last message up to God before we met him. It seemed almost like calling a friend ahead of time so as not to be rude when you showed up. I wanted to tell God that Richard would be late, that he couldn't join me this time around. I would die, I was sure of it, but not Richard. He had to stay.

I looked back at Dylan and Eric and set my mouth defiantly. They wouldn't scare me. God was on my side. He was my savior and my best friend. If He wanted me, He would take me and there was nothing I could do about that. All I could do now was defend my belief and my faith and pray to the Lord that He would take me, because of my duties down here. I was a good Christian. That was enough. It was all I could do.

"You know I believe in God," I said the words like I was chewing rocks. It was difficult, but I had to do it. I had to defend my God. If I left him now, lied when Dylan and Eric knew my beliefs anyway, what good would it do? They would still shoot me, still laugh, and still feel nothing. Only I would feel the pain and abandonment, they would feel nothing.

"What was that?" Dylan asked, pressing the gun into the flesh on my temple, biting the skin. "What, Rachel?"

I pressed my eyes close, feeling the end. They could only have so much compassion for me. I wasn't their friend and this wasn't a practical joke. I felt my heart expand, the beating stopping short, and my head filled with light. God was accepting me.

"Good job, my child," He whispered and wrapped His loving arms around mine.

I opened my eyes and looked Dylan in the eyes. "You know I do."

Dylan's eyes flashed with anger as God came down and kissed my forehead. I could feel his lips against my skin, warm and wet like blood. He was taking me home.