Meaningless Tragedy/Comedy * 2026

Summary

She put something in him.

It's moving. It's growing.

Everything hurts like nothing he could've ever imagined.

content warnings

• Medical torture
• Physical and Psychological torture
• Mild body horror
• Allusions to rape/unconsensual actions
• Loss of autonomy/control

---

His life had been a blur ever since the crash, on that fateful day…

Nothing in his life seemed to have mattered anymore since the incident, the reality he knew and sought comfort for had shattered in his face and left him in ruin. Time slowed down to a crawl, like swimming through honey, the days, weeks, months, that’d pass by were agonizing. Nothing was changing for the better, everything was stagnant,static.

Yet everyday had also felt like running on a treadmill, his knees were sore, his feet ached, it can’t continue like this. Bills were catching up to him, he was let go from his job, a position he was getting quite comfortable in. He didn’t and couldn’t afford any transportation or aids he needed, nobody was here to support him without bleeding him dry.

He needed a hail mary, his prayers to be answered, any god who would take pity on him. Please.

---

He had no sentimentality reserved for his parents, not for years, but he always remembered a phrase they would off handedly remind him throughout his growing years.

The younger he was, he initially never understood why they’d say that. It’s no surprise carnival acts and performances were the main staple of Misery Town, that’s why most tourists come here to begin with. It was a booming industry here too, enough to have schools dedicated to the art of clownery. So why did his family have to be special? What made them so high and mighty compared to the others who lived fulfilling lives spreading joy and laughter to many?

That is, until he grew older and wiser, as ignorant and self centered his parents were, they were right. He’d learn the harsh reality of show biz. The reason Misery Town got it’s name.

But what else could he do? Sure, other jobs existed on the market and they were all crappy, getting a job wasn’t meant to be fun, it always signified a sense of looming dread, the responsibilities dumped onto you as soon as you enter the adult world.

And it wasn’t like his parents gave him much of an option in living situations either, it was their decision to remain and raise a family, a life nailed in this town. Why drag him down as well? Cause they were family?

As soon as he could, he bounced out of his childhood home into a small crappy apartment, serving a couple of odd jobs and trying to entertain the idea of continuing his studies for something greater, something better.

He wasn’t making enough money to comfortably move out and make something new of his life, but it wasn’t all bad. He’d became a man day by day with the help of treatments, he’d even bought his first and most prized vehicle, his darling motorcycle he’d copped secondhand.

The thrills and lack of his hovering parents certainly gave him a sense of freedom, that maybe, just maybe would fill in that wish to leave this town and never come back, be reborn a new.

---

She was nice at first… at first.

Intimidating but friendly, almost too happy to be present. Just why did she pick him?

It was simply too good to be true, of course it was too good to be true.

The Trapezist… He’d never actually learned her real name or any other pseudonym she went under, just her job title.

The apparent ringleader of Misery’s Town oldest running carnival, she was the newest in charge at the tippety top of the tower.

She had money. Loads of money. Enough money to ask a team of demolitionist to destroy the entirety of Misery Town and to just recreate a Cul-De-Sac within it. What did she do with all that money? Why did she have that much?

He never knew, but he needed it. He needed money first and foremost to get himself out of his predicament, from drowning in debt and poverty.

It was honestly quite easy to entice him with the fantasy of fixing everything wrong that had happened and gaining more from it. He just needed to take the leap and show he was worth it, his suffering wasn’t all for nothing.

He stupidly trusted her… he thought he could trust her… she was genuinely looking out for a poor local out of the kindness of her heart.

---

Sleeping at first was all he could do, trying to escape the land of consciousness with sweet dreams of everything being okay, that it was all a cruel prank that had finally ended, he was free.

But he soon realized sleeping could no longer be his escape, whenever she came in.

Sometimes. There were others, tourists who’d stare and gawk at what was staring right back at them.

They'd be touching and prodding. Hands of all kinds, shapes and textures rubbing against him. He hated the hands of the Trapezist the most.

She did something to him. First when he was sleeping and even when he was awake, she no longer cared keeping up the friendly act. Yet she was so happy still, uncannily so.

She’d put something in him. He could feel it enter his body and lodge themselves within him. They never came out.

He needs it to get out. He needs them out.

---

Sometimes. He’d feel things. Squirm within him. He didn’t know.

This was violating. He hated this. He didn’t need more eyes on his bare body. He doesn’t want anymore things in him. He needed them out.

Someday he had finally lost control of his bodily functions. He felt filthy. Everything was disgusting. He was disgusting.

A perfect pathetic display of misery for all to see, a perfect freak show pinned against the wall like a butterfly display. He wished she’d just end his misery already, but that wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining wouldn’t it.

Squirming. Squirming. Squirming. He feels something. What else did she put in him? What more could she have done. Why did she choose him?

The longer this continues, the more he wishes he had died initially. This was a fate worse than death. All autonomy and choice stripped from him, piece by piece. He can’t take this any longer.