Dylan Winters is a 19-year-old young man trapped in the confines of a small town plagued by a series of gruesome child murders. Disturbingly, the parents of the victims all report that their children had spoken of an imaginary friend named Laughing...
"Just as I expected!~" Laughing Jack cackles gleefully as the music box chimes its twisted rendition of Pop Goes the Weasel, As he springs from his confinement, he lands gracefully on his feet. The towering 7-foot clown surveys the room, his sinister grin revealing sharp, shark-like teeth as he gazes upon the slumbering figure on the bed. Yet, there's an unsettling gleam of happiness in his eyes as he prepares for his next mischief.
"What a cute pathetic little mouse you are!~" Laughing Jack murmurs a malicious cackle bubbling up within him. He relishes the thought of tearing this insolent brat apart, especially after the humiliation of their last encounter where Dylan had kicked him in the groin. With a menacing reach of his long, spindly arms, he moves towards Dylan, ready to exact his revenge. But as Dylan stirs in their sleep, muttering incomprehensibly, Jack hesitates, savoring the anticipation of what's to come.
"...Stop staring at me like that..." Dylan mumbled in his sleep, the undercurrent of annoyance mingled with anger evident in his voice, as though he resented whatever was unfolding in his dreams. "I said, cut it out!" he shouted abruptly, jolting awake with a start. His breathing was labored, as if he had just escaped a nightmare, his hand instinctively rising to cradle his face, his expression etched with distress.
As Laughing Jack observed the boy gradually calming down, he gently withdrew his hand from his face, curious about the reaction that would follow. The boy turned his head in Laughing Jack's direction, their eyes meeting in a moment of intense connection. What struck Laughing Jack most was not fear, but rather shock and disbelief, evident in the widening of the boy's vibrant green eyes. Before he could register the full extent of the boy's reaction, however, his face was abruptly met by a pillow, causing him to stumble backward slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. It was as though the boy's emotions had overflowed, manifesting in this impromptu act.
Dylan Pov:
He sat in the dimly lit living room, enveloped by an eerie silence broken only by the low hum of the old television, its flickering static casting an unsettling glow across the otherwise empty space. The worn couch, the solitary piece of furniture in the room beside the TV, cradled him as he remained fixated on the screen, each burst of static growing more deafening by the second. Clenched tightly in his hand, almost as if it had materialized out of thin air, was a hammer—a strange and inexplicable presence in his grasp. As he lingered in this surreal scene, a sudden sensation of warmth and familiarity enveloped him from behind. A pair of delicate hands, unmistakably feminine, wrapped around his shoulders, their gentle touch a stark contrast to the harshness of his reality. He stares into the now black silent TV at his mother. Her upper face blacked out only being able to see her lower face and her lips as they spoke to him.
"Dylan, sweetheart, why do you look so sad? You're making Mother worry," her voice, tinged with a deep sense of pity, reached his ears as she drew him into her embrace. Despite his inner turmoil, he found himself unable to pull away, his heart heavy with a mixture of longing and dread.
"Stop it..." his mind screamed, trapped in a paralysis that refused to release him from the suffocating grip of his memories. His fingers tightened around the handle of the hammer, its weight a tangible reminder of his inner turmoil.
"Dylan, sweetheart, what's wrong? Why won't you say anything? You're not mad at me, are you?" Her voice, filled with sorrow, pierced through the silence, her face obscured by shadows save for the faint outline of her features. "I'm sorry, honey. I've been a horrible mother... Mommy is just going through a lot right now. You know that, don't you? Dylan, honey, look at me..."
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