Chapter 1: The Envy of the Sisters
In the Fantasy Circus, there was a girl named Crimson Sparrow. Just sixteen years old, she was as lovely as a porcelain doll, with sky-blue hair flowing down her back and large, ruby-red eyes shimmering with innocence. Her only trick was simple: juggling beanbags. She would toss colorful bags high into the air, letting them trace elegant arcs before catching them with perfect precision. While her skill wasn't extraordinary, her adorable face and shy smile drew crowds night after night. The Ringmaster adored her like his own daughter, often saying, "Crimson Sparrow, you are the sapphire that brings us luck!" He always gave her the best spots on stage and extra pocket money.
However, this favor burned like acid in the hearts of the three sisters—Phoebe, Rufee, and Sophie. They were the circus's star acrobats, highly skilled and inseparable. Their signature act involved Phoebe riding a unicycle on a giant ball, Rufee balancing on her shoulders, and Sophie perched atop Rufee, all while performing complex juggling. Born into poverty and adopted by the Ringmaster, they had trained relentlessly since childhood, viewing the circus as their kingdom. Crimson Sparrow's arrival had stolen their spotlight and, more importantly, the Ringmaster's affection. "That ugly brat can only toss beanbags. Why does she deserve his favor?" Phoebe hissed. Rufee mocked, "She can't even do a somersault; the Ringmaster must be blind!" Sophie nodded darkly, "We need to teach her a lesson."
From that day on, Crimson Sparrow's life became a nightmare. The sisters bullied her mercilessly: hiding her beanbags before shows to make her look foolish on stage, lacing her food with ghost peppers to make her cry in pain, and throwing stones at her tent at midnight to keep her from sleeping. Fearing retaliation, Crimson Sparrow never told the Ringmaster, silently enduring the torment day after day.
Chapter 2: The Deadly Setup
Tragedy struck on an ordinary night. The circus had camped outside a sleepy town. After the show, the sisters lured Crimson Sparrow to an old warehouse behind the main tent. "Come on, Crimson Sparrow, let us teach you some real skills," Phoebe said with a fake, honeyed sweetness. Not daring to refuse, the girl followed, thinking it would be over soon if she just endured it like usual.
Inside the warehouse, their expressions turned predatory. They shackled her to a guillotine. Phoebe struck her hard across the face, "Who do you think you are, stealing our place?" Rufee sneered, "You're just trash, only fit for tossing beanbags!" Crimson Sparrow sobbed, "Why... I'm just doing my best..." But the sisters showed no mercy. "Too bad there's no audience for this magic show of the century," they whispered. "It is also the final 'Death Show' of your life." With a cold release, the blade fell. Her head was severed instantly. They buried her body beneath the warehouse floor and tossed her head into a nearby river. "If anyone asks," Phoebe said, wiping her hands, "we'll say she couldn't handle the pressure and ran away."
The Ringmaster and the other performers were devastated, but after a few days of grief, the circus moved on to the next town, continuing its tour as usual. The sisters regained their fame, their performances more dazzling than ever.
Chapter 3: The Headless Specter
Months later, on a mist-shrouded night, the circus performed in a remote village. Suddenly, the lights flickered and dimmed, and a frigid wind swept through the tent. Screams erupted from the audience as a headless figure appeared on stage. She wore Crimson Sparrow's old costume, wandering aimlessly as if searching for something lost.
"What is that thing?" The audience fled in terror, and the Ringmaster collapsed, his face as pale as a ghost. The sisters were petrified but tried to stay calm. "It's just a hallucination," Phoebe whispered. But from that night on, the headless girl appeared at the start of every show, no matter which town they visited. She wandered the stage, let out an eerie moan: "My head... where is my head..." Business plummeted, and the performers fled, leaving only the sisters and the Ringmaster to struggle on.
Chapter 4: The Reckoning Begins
Phoebe was the first. One night, while practicing alone in the tent, the headless girl glided in. Phoebe's eyes widened with rage, "Crimson Sparrow, is that you? Coming back for revenge? Fine, I'll kill you again!" She lunged with a knife, but it passed through the ghost without effect. Instead, icy hands gripped Phoebe's neck. With a sickening crack, her head was twisted off, her face frozen in a mask of fury. The headless girl picked it up and said, "Found the first beanbag." She tossed and caught the head like a toy before vanishing into the shadows.
Next was Rufee. She was bathing by the river when the specter appeared. She laughed mockingly, "Ha! That useless brat thinks she can get revenge? You don't even have a head!" She threw a stone, but the ghost dodged it and seized her hair. Before Rufee's laughter could turn into a scream, her head was wrenched off, a sneer forever etched on her face. "Found the second beanbag," the ghost whispered.
Finally, it was Sophie's turn. She hid in the warehouse, hearing footsteps approach. She knelt and begged through tears, "I'm sorry... we were wrong... please spare me!" But the headless girl remained unmoved. A hand reached out, and Sophie's head rolled across the floor, wet with tears of terror. The headless girl let out a spine-chilling cackle of triumph. "I've collected all three beanbags. I've finally found them all."
Chapter 5: The Eternal Game
The headless girl had her three beanbags: the angry Phoebe, the mocking Rufee, and the weeping Sophie. In the now-abandoned circus tent, she tosses the heads high into the air. The heads tumble through the darkness, accompanied by ghostly laughter and muffled cries that never end. When the Ringmaster finally found them, he was driven mad by the sight. The circus was left to rot.
To this day, the townsfolk tell a legend: on foggy nights, you can still hear the sound of beanbags being caught, followed by a terrifying cackle and the sight of three faces—angry, mocking, and weeping—juggling in the dark.