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

Desperate Escape

The cold, metallic bite of the chain wrapped around your ankle was a constant reminder of your helplessness, but something inside you shifted, desperation mixed with the sickening dread that Art was still out there, watching. You couldn’t stay here, not trapped, not at his mercy. You had to escape, to survive, no matter what twisted connection seemed to hold you in his dark grasp.

Your fingers fumbled over the chain again, slick with blood and dirt, as you pulled and twisted against the rusted metal. Every movement sent waves of pain shooting up your leg, but you gritted your teeth, refusing to give in. The memory of Art’s cold fingers brushing against your skin lingered, fueling the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat.

A creak in the trees. He was still nearby, lurking in the shadows. You knew you didn’t have much time. Panic clawed at you as you pulled at the chain harder, your breath coming in ragged gasps. There had to be a way out, a weak spot, something. You weren’t going to just sit here and wait for him to come back.

Then, with a sharp snap, the rusted bolt holding the chain to the ground gave way.

Your heart skipped a beat. You froze, hardly daring to believe it at first. But when you yanked again, the chain came loose, the heavy links dragging behind you as you pulled yourself free from the trap. You didn’t stop to think, there was no time. Ignoring the pain in your leg, you scrambled to your feet, the chain still trailing from your ankle as you broke into a sprint.

You didn’t know where you were going, but you knew you had to get away. Away from the house. Away from the woods. Away from him. The wind stung your face, the night air cold and sharp against your skin as you ran, your breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps.

The trees blurred past you, the darkness closing in from all sides. Your legs burned, but you pushed through the pain, your mind focused only on one thing, getting to safety. Somewhere, anywhere, where Art couldn’t reach you.

In the distance, the faint glow of streetlights flickered through the trees.

The police station.

It was your only hope. The one place you could find help, find protection, find someone who could stop him. You didn’t know how far you had to run, but the thought of safety gave you the strength to keep going, your feet pounding against the ground with every frantic step.

The horn echoed behind you again, closer this time.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you glanced back, the shadows shifting unnervingly in the distance. You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was there. Watching. Stalking. Always one step behind, waiting for the moment you’d slip, stumble, fall.

But you didn’t stop.

The streetlights grew brighter as you reached the edge of the woods, the open road spreading out before you like a beacon of hope. Your legs screamed in protest, your ankle throbbing where the chain had bitten into your skin, but you forced yourself to keep moving.

The police station was just ahead, its lights casting long shadows on the empty street. You could see the front entrance, the heavy glass doors, the safety that waited inside.

You reached the door, slamming your hands against the cold glass, your breath ragged and uneven. “Help!” you screamed, pounding on the door with all your strength. “Someone, please! Help me!”

For a terrifying moment, there was no response. The station looked almost deserted, the quiet night pressing in around you.

But then, the door clicked open.

A uniformed officer stood there, his eyes wide with confusion and concern as he took in your disheveled appearance—the dirt, the blood, the chain still hanging from your ankle. “Ma’am, what happened? Are you hurt?”

You stumbled into the station, your body trembling with exhaustion, but your mind still racing with the fear that Art was somewhere out there, waiting. “He’s coming,” you gasped, barely able to form the words. “He’s coming… he killed him… please… he’s going to kill me, too.”

The officer’s brow furrowed, but he wasted no time, guiding you to a chair and grabbing his radio. “Stay here,” he said firmly. “You’re safe now. We’ll take care of it.”

Safe. The word felt foreign on your tongue, almost impossible to believe after everything you had just been through. But the sterile lights of the station, the heavy presence of law enforcement around you, offered a sliver of hope. For the first time in what felt like forever, you let out a shaky breath, trying to convince yourself that it was over.

That you were finally safe.

But even as you sat there, the chain rattling against the floor beneath you, a part of you knew it wasn’t over. Not really. Art wasn’t like anything or anyone the police could handle. He was more than just a man. He was a nightmare made flesh, and you had seen what he was capable of.

The officer returned, his face set with grim determination. “We’ll send a team out to check the area,” he assured you. “You’re not alone now. Just stay here. We’ll keep you safe.”

You nodded, but your hands trembled in your lap. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that it was over, that Art couldn’t touch you here. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t far away.

As if on cue, the lights in the station flickered.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your eyes darted to the window. Outside, the streetlights swayed slightly in the wind, the shadows dancing ominously along the pavement.

And there, at the edge of the road, barely illuminated by the flickering streetlight, was Art.

He stood there, leaning casually against the lamppost, his wide grin smeared with blood, his eyes locked onto yours through the glass.

Your heart stopped.

He hadn’t just followed you.

He had let you escape.

And now, as you sat in what was supposed to be the safest place in town, you realized the horrifying truth.