Le Clown Rose

6!

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"A la volonté du peuple!
Et a la santé du progrès!
Remplis ton cœur d'un vin rebelle!
Et à demain ami fidèle!"

The pink clown child sang lightly as she knits the error in her dress away.
Birds peaked outside the window, some chirping as though attempting to sing along with her.
She stands up from sitting on the floor, swaying lazily across the room with the dress in her hands as though waltzing in a ballroom.

"Nous voulons faire la lu-OW!"

A quick smack to the back of her head stumbled Opal forwards and disrupted her little fairy tale dance.

"Quit that shit!"
Karl scolds her as he rushes into the room, filling the once tranquil air with the smell of stale cigarettes and cheap cologne, a scent that seamed to follow him even after a shower.
"Is your dress finished yet? Your show is in THIRTY MINUTES, OPAL! GOD! YOU TRYNA GIVE ME A HERNIA?"

He neglects the frowning child and snaps his head to the other one. Hisoka sat politely on top of the bed, pretending like he was focused on the deck of cards shuffling sloppily in his hands.
"There's my baby boy. All dressed and ready. Jeez, Opal, why can't you be more like this guy, huh? C'mon. Leave the dress and go put your makeup on."

"But it's not ready yet-"

"I SAID GO!" Karl screams in her face, forcing back a smile of satisfaction when she recoils away immediately, holding her hands out as if waiting to be struck.
Opal hadn't the chance to react when she discards the dress and runs to her dressing room.
Her master watched her run off with a dry, coughing snicker before turning back to Hisoka. He wanted to say something funny, desperate for the talented boy's approval, but he paused.

Hisoka's grin softened, a wondrous light danced like stars in his wide, sunny golden eyes with a curious tilt of his head towards the door that Opal stormed out of, the deck of cards long forgotten in his hands. Karl wondered what had him looking so intrigued, and for a moment, he found himself itching to ask him. But it was as if he couldn't disrupt the child-like curiosity being experienced by the boy.
He remained silent.

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The harsh wind of the night declared there would be no peace for the wicked. The trees rustled with fierce anger outside the half-cracked open window, shadows waltzed frantically in the dimly lit room Opal slept in.
For a moment, the whistling of the wind could have been mistaken for a scream.

Opal's eyes shot wide open at the sound, her body jolting awake immediately. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she heaved, panicked eyes searching around the room for the source of the troubled sounds ringing in her ears.
Once her mind calculated that the sound was the wind outside, she was left with her own thoughts and sweat forming on her forehead. Her fingers clutched tightly onto the bedsheets as she examines the empty room, the darkness accentuated from the moonlight's unwelcome peeping through the window.

It didn't take long for it to click that she was most probably in Hisoka's home, the panic slowly creeping into a sense of despair in the pits of her stomach. She insisted once more that the whistling of the wind was the devil whispering in her ear and reminding her of her fate in the lion's den.

Her heart raced. She suddenly felt cornered by invisible, demonic guards feeding off of her growing paranoia as she studied every crevice in the room, heart thumping manically in her ears. She was expecting Hisoka to pop out of the most unexpected places, to see the merciless glare in his eyes before he takes her life as he promised to.