Kill a Killer Clown

kill-a-killer-clown

She ran down the street in terror. A hideous clown was chasing her. Evil eyes. A grin of destruction. Suddenly he was in front of her. Out of nowhere. How could he have gotten there before her? She turned. Fell. The clown came running towards her. She started crying. Please don’t kill me. Please!

She looked up. There were two clowns. They were laughing.

It was the third time Marc had been out scaring people in his clown suit. Marc loved scaring people, he always had. This time he had convinced Jim to come with him. Jim had always been easy to convince. Easy to scare, too. Marc sure had had some good fun with that.

They left. The girl was sitting on the ground confused. The whole thing had been traumatic.

Let’s see if we can find someone else! Said Marc. There should be more people out. The funniest was the teenage girls, they got more scared. There was no girls around, just a man walking further down the road.

What about that guy? said Jim. He seems to be alone.

Let’s go! said Marc.

They started walking faster. Their victim rounded a corner. They ran to catch up, now that he couldn’t see them. Around the corner they saw no one. It was a backstreet. They walked in, rounded another corner. Dead end.

When they turned around the man were standing in the entrance to the alley. They looked at each other. Lifted their plastic knives. Ran towards him, screaming. He didn’t move.

He had a meat hook in one hand.

Hehe, laughed Marc. Just joking. The man was big, almost two meters tall. They couldn’t see his face in the darkness. He didn’t answer.

They  walked towards the exit where he was standing. He didn’t move.

Hey, what’s up! said Marc.

I don’t like this, said Bill nervously.

The man didn’t answer.

They stopped. Hey asshole, said Marc, trying to sound tough. You have a problem?

The man lifted the hook slowly.

Fuck, man, said Bill. Let’s get out of here. It was too late. The man struck the hook into his shoulder. Bill fell to the ground. Marc screamed and ran off as Bill was pulled further into the alley.

Marc heard Bill’s screams as he ran down the road. He didn’t look back. Help! Help! Help us, someone! He ran to the nearest house, ringed the bell, slamming on the door. A woman opened. She looked at the teenager in the clown suit, puzzled. Please! Call the police. He got my friend. He got my friend!

Oh my, said the old woman. Come in, come in. She picked up the phone. What happened? she asked.

He killed him! Marc started crying. He killed him!

Let’s see what we can do. She picked up the phone. It’s dead! she said. I’ll go find the other one. She left the room. Marc went over to the window. Looked out. He couldn’t see anyone. He heard steps behind him.

Did you… he said, turning around. He stopped. The man was there. The size of a mountain. Greasy hair hanging down in his face. Blood all over his clothes. A huge rusty hook in one hand. Slowly he lifted his hook.

Please… Please! Pleaded Marc as he sunk to his knees. A pool of urine extended around his legs. He was crying in despair. The mountain grinned. The grin got bigger. He threw the hook to Marc’s head.

It bounced off, hit the wall and fell to the ground. It was made of plastic.

Bill came in through the kitchen door. You pissed your pants! You fucking pissed your pants! He couldn’t stop laughing.

The old woman laughed. The mountain laughed. Marc could see his face now. It was Bill’s cousin Jack. He had been beaten at his own game.

Assholes! He felt like an idiot. He looked like an idiot. Frankly, he was an idiot. He always had been, and right now he knew it more than ever. He went home, threw the urine stained clown suit in the garbage and hit the shower. Scaring people sucked.

https://penofthedamned.com/2016/10/25/i-hate-clowns/

http://technology.inquirer.net/53685/man-dressed-as-batman-chasing-away-killer-clowns-in-england

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