For a long while now, the Squatch, as the people in the Carnival called him, tagged along wherever they went.

He wasn't supposed to be a part of the show. He was just always around.

Im not even sure if Management even knows about him, thought Billy Glazier.

Billy was your typical 18 year old dissfected youth, from a small industrial mid-west town. He had shared the

always grandiose idea of running away from home as many young men his age did, and "joining the circus".

“Well, this ain't exactly Ringling Brothers,”he thought, “but its a job, and I get a place to sleep.”

Billy had no idea what the Squatch really was, only what he appeared to be. He certainly appeared to be a 9 foot tall bigfoot with a goofy grin, and a temperment of a labrador retreiver.

For some reason, the big beast seemed to take a liking to Billy.

Every day, at some point, Billy would turn a corner, and there would be the Squatch, waiting patiently like some giant furry Buddha, smiling just as serenely.

Billy hefted one of the large plastic trash bags he had been carrying to his other hand, in order to move back the lid of the metal dumpster.

A small tear had appeared in one of the bags, and a thick brown liquid of an origin Billy decided he'd rather not know, was running down his leg and into his shoe.

He grunted, and threw the bags into the container.

Behind him, the earth shook, and a musky scent filled the air.

This used to alarm him every time. Nowadays, he expected it.

Billy turned around, looked up and smiled.

"Heya Big Guy." Billy said, reaching up to scratch the behemoths neck.

The Squatch made a deep guffawing sound, and gently patted Billy's head. "You've been after the Elephant Ears again, you've got sugar all over your big dumb face."

The Squatch's eyes glowed merrily, and he licked powdered sugar from his fingers, chuckling happily.

"One of these days, Old Jack is gonna fill your big furry hide with buckshot if he catches you." Billy said to the beast.

Behind Billy, the sounds of the carnival were dying down. The last few customers were leaving the gates, and some of the rousties had already started to turn the midway lights off.

Billy light a smoke, wich made the Squatch sneeze, and together they strolled down the darkening Midway, to Billy's camper-truck.

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For a brief second, noticeable by very few people at the Carnival, the world seemed to burp.

A tiny "hole" seemed to open in the fabric of the air, behind one of the tents. If anyone had been there, an unpleasant smell, like rotted garbage, or an entire locker room of unwashed ass would have been noticed erupting from it. After a few moments, a small ball of what appeared first appeared to be feces pooled, and then solidified into a hard, black stone.

As it sizzled in the dust and grass, it took on a polished quality, like obsidian.
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Young Tommy Wilkowski practically soared his way down the Midway, listening to the sounds of the carnival all around him.

The carnies hawking their games, or the attractions. The sounds of cheesy 80's hair metal coming from the rides, its passengers screaming with delight.

His mother had given him 10 dollars, his weekly allowance, and told him to meet back at a designated spot.

That time was fifteen minutes ago, and if he wanted to make it to his 13th birthday, he decided he'd better haul ass.

"Dammit, why did I have to ride that stupid coaster all five times?", he thought.

He began to pick up speed as he headed toward the cotton-candy vendor, where presumably, his family was waiting. In all likelihood, already pissed off.

Something glittered in the remaining lights ahead of him, and for a reason he would never know, he slowed down and stopped to look.

It was a good sized perfectly round lump of black stone, lying in the dirt. In that instance, Tommy felt a very powerful need to pick it up.

He bent down, and scooped up the stone, and immediately noticed it was warm to the touch. His shaggy blonde hair fell in his eyes, and as he stood with stone and hand to pull it back,

the lights from the stalls around him glinted inside the stone.

Something was in it.

Something alive.

He held the stone up to his right eye to get a closer look inside it.

A feeling like being electrocuted suddenly shocked Tommy to his very core, and made him go rigid.

On the outside, the boy appeared to simply pause briefly.

On the inside, Tommy Wilkowski ceased to be.

The being now in the shell of what used to be Tommy, looked slowly around, taking in his new surroundings.

How long had it been trapped inside that prison? Where exactly was it now?

It didn't matter, he was free!

He looked down at his new body, pleased at the youth and vigor he had just acquired, and pleased at the boy's last moment of agony.

This will do nicely, it thought.

This will do quite nicely.

There was much to be done.