-A twisted Fate?- An Art The clown x Fem!Reader

Spirals Of Terror

You lay on the floor, gasping for air, your hands trembling as they hovered over the thin line of blood on your throat. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to remind you of how close you had come. Art had toyed with you, dragged you to the brink of death and then let you go. The cruel game he was playing had only just begun.

Slowly, you sat up, your body stiff from the tension. Art stood a few feet away, staring at you with that ever-present grin, as though he was savoring the sight of your misery. He twirled the knife absentmindedly, his eyes locked on yours.

You couldn't take it anymore. The pressure, the fear.. it was unbearable.

"Why won't you just kill me?" you shouted, your voice raw with desperation. Tears flowed freely down your face, your body still trembling uncontrollably.

Art's grin didn't falter. He took a step toward you, and you flinched, scooting back against the wall. Your heart raced as he crouched down to your level, his eyes never leaving yours. He reached out slowly, and before you could react, his hand gently brushed the tear streaked side of your face.

You were paralyzed with fear. He was playing with you again, treating you like a fragile doll that could shatter at any moment. You wanted to push him away, to scream, to do something. But all you could do was tremble beneath his touch.

His other hand rose, the knife still in his grip. Your breath caught in your throat as he brought it closer, the cold blade brushing against your cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting the worst. But instead of cutting you, Art did something strange.. he.. pressed the flat side of the knife against your skin, tracing the tear lines as though he were wiping them away.

It was an unnerving, almost mocking gesture, and it sent a fresh wave of terror through your veins.

"Stop..." you whimpered, unable to keep the fear out of your voice.

Art paused, tilting his head, clearly pleased with how easily he was breaking you down. He stood up, towering over you like a shadow, and you could feel his presence even as you kept your eyes shut tight. The tension in the air thickened, and you knew that whatever happened next was going to be worse than anything you had experienced so far.

Suddenly, you heard the unmistakable sound of something metallic sliding across the floor. Slowly, you opened your eyes and saw the knife-his knife-lying just a few feet away from you. Your breath hitched as you looked up at Art, confusion and terror swirling together.

Was this another game? Was he giving you a chance?

Art stepped back, his grin widening. He pointed to the knife, then gestured toward you. The message was clear.

Pick it up.

Your hand shook violently as you stared at the blade. There was no way you could fight him. Even if you had the knife, you knew he would overpower you in seconds. But the way he stood there, waiting, made it impossible to refuse. He wanted to see what you would do how far you would go to survive.

Slowly, you reached for the knife, your fingers brushing against the cold steel. Your heart raced as you wrapped your hand around the handle, the weight of the weapon unfamiliar and terrifying. Art watched with gleeful anticipation, his eyes glinting with sadistic excitement.

With the knife in your hand, you stood up, wobbling on shaky legs. You could feel Art's eyes on you, studying every movement, every flicker of emotion on your face. He was daring you to try something.. daring you to fight back.

But what could you do? There was no way you could actually hurt him. No way you could escape. He was always one step ahead, always in control.

Your grip on the knife tightened as a desperate thought crossed your mind. Maybe if you refused to play his game, if you just dropped the knife and didn't give him the satisfaction.. he would get bored and leave you alone.

But before you could act on that thought, Art lunged.

Your breath caught in your throat as he moved with sudden, terrifying speed, his body inches from yours in an instant. You barely had time to react, instinctively raising the knife between you as a feeble defense. Art's hand shot out, gripping your wrist with a vice like grip, and in one swift motion, he twisted the knife out of your hand and tossed it across the room. The blade clattered against the floor, far out of reach.

You let out a choked sob, completely at his mercy.

Art's grin widened as he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting across your neck. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His silent mockery was unbearable.. you could see the amusement in his eyes as he watched you crumble beneath him.

Suddenly, his free hand reached into his pocket, and he pulled out something small and metallic. Your eyes widened in horror as you recognized...

its a syringe.

It was the same one you had seen him use on others before, in the films.

"No, no, please!" you begged, struggling in his grip. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline surging as you desperately tried to push him away. But it was useless. Art held you firmly, his strength far surpassing your own.

With a calm, practiced ease, he brought the syringe closer, his eyes lighting up with a twisted excitement. Your vision blurred with tears as you tried to squirm away, but it was no use.

The needle pierced your skin.

You gasped as the cold fluid entered your veins, the world around you tilting as the drug took hold. Your body felt heavy, your limbs growing weak, and the edges of your vision began to blur.

Art stood over you, watching with satisfaction as you slowly collapsed to the ground, your body no longer able to support itself. You tried to fight it, tried to stay awake, but the drug was too strong. Darkness closed in around you, and the last thing you saw was Art's face, looming above you, his grin as wide as ever.

As your consciousness slipped away, one horrifying thought echoed in your mind.

'This is only the beginning...'