The Light in the Cage Chapter 1

My daughter and I accidentally time-traveled back to when my husband was still living like a dog in a dungeon. Back then, he was the circus’s prized moneymaker. Because one-half of his face was impossibly beautiful, and the other half was a grotesque, demonic horror. One look would send anyone into fits of screaming terror. But my daughter just waddled straight toward him, pushing her chubby little arms through the iron bars, her voice milky and sweet: “Daddy, hold me~”

The moment I realized when we were, I felt the sky crack open and fall in. One second ago, I was in our magnificent, opulent castle, rocking my daughter in the nursery. My husband was right beside me, his voice gentle as he read from a new picture book. The next, I was holding my daughter, stumbling onto a filthy, damp floor. The roar of a raucous, surging crowd was all around us. Several heavy boots nearly stomped on me. Before I could even react, the shriek of an old-fashioned microphone filled the air: “Ladies and Gentlemen! And now, for the most thrilling moment of the night!” “Our prized treasure, the Cursed Demon, the Half-Man, Half-Ghoul!” “Are you ready to cover your eyes and SCREAM?” My heart sank into my stomach. This was bad. Of all the times to travel to, it had to be this one. It had to be his human life. His experiences before he became the immortal monster I knew... I never dared to ask. Partly because he refused to speak of it. Partly because I couldn't bear to imagine it. Because… In the next second, the entire tent plunged into darkness, save for a single, stark white spotlight on the stage. The heavy, crimson velvet curtain slowly began to rise. A rusted iron cage sat center stage. I instinctively slapped my hand over my daughter’s curious, blinking eyes. And then, I saw him. José Tourinan. Though, back then, he didn’t even have a name. He wasn’t even considered a person. He was livestock. An animal for public amusement. The curtain continued its ascent. I didn’t dare breathe, my eyes fixed on the stage. The first thing I saw was the filthy, wet floor of the cage. An ankle, locked in a heavy, gilded shackle. Then, a tattered, frayed animal pelt that barely offered any decency. Up to a honey-colored, scar-covered abdomen, completely devoid of fat. Wrists, bound tight in gold-plated chains as thick as a man’s arm. Cheap chest-chains and glass jewels, meant to catch the audience’s eye. Finally, I met his eyes. They were sunken, terrifying, and ocean-blue. His left side was beautiful, like a wild, untamed god. Deep-set eyes, long brown curls falling across his brow. It was heartbreaking. The circus ringmaster cracked his whip. The man in the cage slowly, stiffly, turned his head. A wave of screams erupted from the crowd. Then came the disorganized chorus of disgust, curses, and filth. His right side was horrifying. Livid, grotesque scars, unhealed wounds, and twisted, knotted flesh. Like a demon torn straight from a painting. Over the din, the owner calmly rapped on the cage, raising his whip with a smile. “One lash to ward off bad luck! Two to repel demons! Three to cleanse all misfortune!” “Tonight, we have one slot only! Highest bidder wins!” My hand trembled. I had to physically restrain myself from rushing the stage. Around me, people were already shouting out bids. I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood. I was trapped. The time travel had been so sudden, I was still in my loungewear. I was, quite literally, penniless. On stage, the owner’s voice was ecstatic. “Fifty pounds for the strike! Do I hear higher?” The tent went quiet. The man shrugged, clearly satisfied with the price. And just then, a chubby little hand shot up in the air. In her fist was a blood-red ruby pendant, the size of a pigeon’s egg, set on a gold chain. It was radiant, obviously priceless. It was the gift her father had spent months searching for, the day she was born. It had never, ever left her neck. The owner’s voice was shaking. “Oh, my… my dear… tiny lady! Is that your bid?” I finally realized my hand had slipped away from Eve’s eyes. She was beaming, an angelic smile on her face, and nodded vigorously. “Uh-huh!” I walked onto the high stage, carrying Eve, the stares from every direction burning into my skin. The owner obsequiously handed me the coarse, heavy whip. But Eve, with a toddler’s sudden speed, squirmed free and darted right past him. Like a little cloud, she plopped down right in front of the cage. Her voice was bright and clear: “Daddy, Daddy, what happened next? Did the princess kiss the toad?”