"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 cho