Something deep within him told him to drop the cup and run far, far away. It was because at that moment he felt an overbearing sense of dread. The entire time he had been in the joyful world he felt safe and happy. But something about the man and the ice cream and that moment was different from the rest of the world. He didn't know how to describe it other than a change in atmosphere. It felt as if in the world and happiness and joy he was currently in, there was malicious intent within the man and the delicious sweet before him.

Max turned back and saw the man behind him. His toothy grin was now replaced with a slightly annoyed look as he told Max to fill the cup.

"Come on, Max. I thought you liked ice cream. That's why we're here, right? To enjoy ourselves and have fun!"

Max wouldn't budge. There was no way he was going to eat the ice cream. His arms started to quiver and he withdrew from the machine. The man's expression changed again. This time, however, it was one of frustration. He placed one hand on Max's shoulder and used the other to grab his arm. He squeezed tightly, and his voice was different. The previously cheerful tone he once held was replaced with anger. His teeth were clenched; his veins were starting to become more noticeable through his head.

"Listen here, Max, listen when I'm speaking to you. Do you want the rest of the kids in the ball-pit to have a bad time just because you wouldn't eat ice cream? I'm trying to help you enjoy yourself, and as a result, you'll help the kids up there have the time of their lives. But no, you'd rather be a loser. Do you want to be known for being a disappointment, Max? Do you want to be known as a loser?"

Tears began to roll down Max's face as the man squeezed harder on his arm. A red imprint began to form on his forearm as tears continued to roll down the young boy's face. He tried to yank himself away from the man, but with each pull, his grip only tightened. After using his small size to wiggle free from the man's grasp, he ran towards the doors he entered the building from.

He pulled on them, only to find the doors locked. Max looked back at the man. He stood there, laughing at Max as he screamed and pleaded. His efforts were futile though, and the man began making his way towards him.

Max scanned the room through his eyes and saw it. In the opposite corner of the room was a door. Getting to his feet, he made a mad dash past the man and toward the door. The man made no attempt to stop him as he burst through the door and into the room. And upon entering it, the young boy let out a scream that echoed throughout the whole carnival.

Max saw their bodies dangling in the air loosely. Children, dozens, maybe hundreds of them hung by wires and tubes strapped to various parts of their body. Their bodies were colorless. Grey, leathery skin covered them, and their malnourishment reached the point where their ribs protruded and pushed their skin near breaking point. The life was drained out of their eyes, and yet their chests sunk in and out. They were alive, although they were better off dead. Max could feel his heart smashing against his ribs, and for a second he felt as if it were going to burst through them.

Turning around, he saw the man at the door. His toothy grin was back again, but this time it was for different reasons. Max stepped backward and into the entanglement of kids who swung from the ceiling. The man followed after him, and they both made their way through the grey children, the man hot on his trail.