Super Shorts

Nightmare On Main Street

Downtown Knoxville, in November. Not the best place, and certainly not the worst. Except for the chilling nip in the stuffy city air, there was nothing amiss. Walking down the street by the light of glittering street lamps, one might find a homeless man wearing tatters, and a blanket with more holes than Swiss cheese, struggling to find sleep with a pillow made of trash. His cart of junk he might make use of one day sat parked around the corner and out of sight. Almost every fifth darkened archway was occupied by societal rejects, with at least one in every other alley. One particularly decrepit old man was tossing and turning, like a dying fly buzzing around and around on its wings. Incapable of getting away, but expending as much energy as it can spar to prevent its doom. A crash from a nearby alley made him stop thrashing his already battered blanket. He hobbled to his feet, now very clearly reliant on his cart to support him.

His forward motion finally peaked as he rounded the corner. He stopped, almost causing his to fall face first into a filthy puddle, and caught himself on the wall. Squinting into the dark, grimy fingers dug into his dirty pants pockets and extracted a foggy set of bifocals. Right before they perched atop his rounded nostrils, something flashed in the dark. A small throwing knife buried itself into his shoulder, and Pennywise the demonic clown materialized out of the growing pitch black with a red balloon drifting lazily beside him, of its own free will. The immense pain made the man scream, and the pure terror of a possessed clown with a smile from ear to ear made his legs carry him away at almost impossible speed. He wailed and wailed, but the dozens of fellow homeless people seemed to have vanished, and the silence was oppressing.

He ran as fast as he could, but no matter how far he ran the clown never gained nor lost ground. The adrenaline that had long since kicked in hit again, giving him a new burst of speed. All of a sudden he had lost the clown and stumbled into Market Square. His huffing sent puffs of hot breath into the night air as he gathered his strength. The pain was still only bearable due to the amount of adrenaline that was starting to wear off. No amount of combat had ever prepared him for what was happening right now, alone in an empty city, being chased by a clown. A lone figure completely shrouded in blanket stood on a raised platform between four pillars that should had had a roof, but didn't. Relieved to have found another person he approached, with caution of course. "Hello?" He called out. His voice betrayed his fear far more than he would have cared. Without a response his heart started beating faster. He stepped onto the platform itself and reached out to grab his shoulder. Just then a freezing chill ran up his spine as a breeze blew from behind, and the man he was about to turn crumbled before his eyes. As if he were made of powder the breeze carried him away, across the Dais.

Terror froze him in place as something grappled his shoulders and physically lifted him off his feet. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out as he left the ground. He went almost weightless until he crashed into the middle of the street. Every bone in his body felt shattered. His breath came in rasping gags and he was pretty sure a rib or two were broken. Making no attempt to get up, a round pale face with deep set, blood red, eyes appeared hovering over him. His face was split in a smile with wicked sharp teeth and very pronounced canines. At the sight his heart finally gave out, and with a final terrified gasp, he died.

Meanwhile, at the street where it all began; the homeless man finally lay still after a good deal of shouting and thrashing, dead.

A figure enshrouded in darkness stepped out of the dark alley, and with a look at his work, left the scene with a smile revealing teeth almost too white to be natural.