Marcus grunts as he heads into the house through the front door and kicks it shut behind him. He then pulls the box out from under his arm and slides it across a trunk in the living room as he makes his way into the kitchen. Where he then opens the fridge and pulls out a glass bottle filled with fizzy orange soda. Popping the cap off, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he quickly pulls it out to view the notification.
"Going to be staying late tonight. Boss needs a portfolio put together. Happy Birthday, be home as soon as I can! Love, Mom!"
Marcus sighs and takes a drink from the bottle. As he does so, he hears what sounds like a soft squeak come from the living room. Pulling the bottle away from his lips, he scrunches up his brow and looks back through the open archway, where there is nothing but darkness, as he didn't bother with turning any of the lights on when he came in. After a few moments of hearing nothing, he shrugs it off and returns to the beverage, but takes note of the light in the fridge, as he holds it open, and walks over to a light switch on the wall nearest to the archway. As the light comes on and he turns back to shut the fridge, he hears it again.
Toot, toot!
As the sound comes twice this time, he no longer finds it to be a coincidence. Placing the bottle atop the kitchen table, he leaves it behind and moves back into the first room, turning this light on as well. Again, as the light comes on, he hears it.
Toot, toot!
Feeling a bit weirder out, he looks towards where he thinks the sound has come from and spots the box, which seems to have turned to face him. Walking over to it, he cracks it open once more and looks over the ragdoll. The thing rests on its stomach, face pressed against the bottom of the box. Letting it fall shut, he laughs to himself and shakes his head, turning back toward the kitchen. Just has he goes to take a step forward, the sound comes once more. Immediately, he looks back at the box, which appears to have shifted positions once again.
"Stupid clown." Picking up the box, he marches over to the front door, swings it open, and steps out into the yard. The doll clatters around inside as he walks over to a large lidded trashcan and pulls it open, chucking the box and its contents away. With a sigh, he thinks back on all that Phil had said and gets annoyed with himself for tossing the gift away. "Damn you, Phil."
Turning back toward the house, Marcus freezes. Having watched the light in the living room window go out. Moments later, the light at the far end of the house does the same. Thinking that someone has broken in, he rushes over to the front door and rests an ear against it. When he hears nothing, he quietly turns the knob and steps inside. Once the door is shut behind him, he reaches around the corner of the entryway and flips the switch in the living room. The room is immediately filled with light, and he uses this to collect a baseball bat from a small closet to the right of the front door. Now armed, he raises the bat up at one side and slowly makes his way over to the kitchen. As he turns this light on as well, he finds the place to be empty. Cautious still, he looks beneath the table and into the connected laundry room, but still, he finds himself to be alone.
"Hello?" He calls out, not expecting an answer. "Who's in here?" As nothing else seems to happen, he lets the bat fall to his side and moves over to the table, where he recollects his bottle as he watches the next room over. Lifting the bottle up, he finds it to feel rather light. With this catching his attention, he glances down at it and finds it to be empty.
Toot, toot!
The bottle falls to the ground and shatters as he raises the bat back up and jerks his head in the direction of the living room, which is yet again shrouded in darkness. Losing his patience, he huffs and rushes into the room, slamming his hand against the switch and darting his eyes all over the room once more. His angered state morphs into fear as his eyes rest on a small box sitting atop the trunk. Moving closer to it at a slow and steady pace, he hears the sound once more. Tightening his grip on the bat, he raises it overhead, but doesn't swing right away, as another sound catches his attention. Whispering seems to fill the air, but is so low that he can't make it out right away. With his heart thundering in his chest, he lowers his ear until it is level with the box.
YOU ARE READING
OddityVille: Funko (Book Three)
Horror"The carnival is back in town and with it comes Funko, the Contorting Clown! So come now children, gather 'round, and guess where Funko might be found!" The rhyme poisons the air around Marcus, as his friends tease him about his fear of the clown. T...
