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

The Shift

The night pressed down on you like a heavy weight, but all you could feel was the plastic ring biting into your palm. The tension from your last encounter with Art still lingered in the air, thick and suffocating. Your mind raced, replaying the way his fingers had so gently placed the ring back into your hand. The way his eyes had locked onto yours, not with violence but with… something else. Something darker, something you couldn’t understand.

You should have run the second he disappeared into the shadows. You knew that. But the weight of what had just passed between you held you in place, paralyzed by the strange mix of fear and confusion flooding your senses. Why had he handled you with such care? Why had his touch, so gentle and deliberate, sent a wave of heat through your chest when every instinct told you to be afraid?

You didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to acknowledge that moment of connection, as twisted as it was. But it was there, hanging between you and Art like an invisible thread, pulling you deeper into his world. The game had changed. It wasn’t just about survival anymore. It wasn’t just about fear.

It was about you.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, and you suddenly felt sick. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to feel anything but terror around him. You weren’t supposed to feel… drawn to him in any way. But now, every time you looked at that ring, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had crossed some invisible line, one you couldn’t come back from.

And yet, there was no escaping him.

Your legs finally obeyed you, pushing you to stand. You had to get away from here, from this suffocating sense of dread and the lingering heat from his touch. The town’s streets were still eerily quiet, and each step felt heavier than the last as you tried to shake off the strange mix of emotions swirling inside you.

As you walked, your mind kept drifting back to that moment the way Art’s eyes had softened, the gentle touch of his fingers, and that fleeting sense of approval in his gaze. It made no sense. None of this did. He was a killer, a monster, and yet…

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts, but the questions kept nagging at you, pulling you deeper into the spiral. Why hadn’t he killed you? Why was he keeping you alive when everyone else had been nothing more than a fleeting plaything to him?

Another police station came into view, its lights dim and quiet, but it felt like salvation. You quickened your pace, your heart pounding in your chest. This was it. You would tell them everything about Art, about the horrors you’d witnessed, and they would protect you. They had to.

You burst through the doors, the cold air of the station washing over you like a wave of relief. Several officers looked up, startled by your sudden entrance. You were breathless, your legs shaking from the exertion and adrenaline.

“I—he’s coming,” you stammered, barely able to get the words out. “Art… he’s coming for me.”

The officers exchanged confused glances before two of them stood up, approaching you cautiously. “Slow down,” one of them said. “Who’s coming for you?”

“Art the Clown,” you gasped, gripping the counter for support. “He killed… so many people. He’s been after me.”

One of the officers frowned, clearly not taking you seriously. “Ma’am, we’re going to need a little more than that.”

But before you could explain further, the lights in the station flickered. A cold chill swept through the air, and a sense of dread settled over you like a heavy blanket.

And then you heard it. That sound. The eerie jingle of a bell. Your blood turned to ice.

The officers barely had time to react before the front window shattered, and Art appeared in the middle of the station, his figure backlit by the dim streetlights outside. His grin was wider than ever, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight.

Panic surged through you as the officers rushed to draw their weapons, shouting commands that quickly turned into chaos. But Art was faster. Before anyone could fire, he lunged at the nearest officer, his knife flashing through the air with brutal precision. Blood sprayed across the room, and the officer crumpled to the ground, his life snuffed out in an instant.

The remaining officers scrambled, but it was useless. Art moved like a shadow, slipping through their defenses with an almost supernatural speed. One by one, they fell, their screams echoing through the station, cut short by the gleam of Art’s blade.

You stood frozen, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps as the horror unfolded around you. You had known he would come, but seeing him cut through the officers so effortlessly made your blood run cold. Reminding you of the first Police station..

And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The station was silent again, save for the quiet dripping of blood onto the floor. Art stood in the center of the room, his gaze fixed on you, his expression still twisted into that mocking grin.

You stumbled back, your heart racing, unsure of what he would do next. But instead of advancing on you, he held up one bloodied hand, his palm open as if offering something. You stared at him, confused, until you noticed what he was holding.

Another ring. A small, cheap plastic ring, identical to the one you already had.

Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly approached, his movements eerily calm, almost gentle. You wanted to run, to get away, but your legs refused to obey. He reached you, his fingers ghosting over your hand as he placed the second ring into your palm, just like before.

His touch lingered, softer than it had any right to be, and for a brief moment, the world narrowed down to just the two of you again. That same strange energy crackled between you, the terror mixing with something far more unsettling. The warmth of his hand, the intensity of his gaze, it all felt wrong, but there was no denying the spark that flickered in that moment.

Art leaned in slightly, his face inches from yours, his breath cold against your skin. His eyes bore into yours, and you felt the weight of his unspoken promise, this wasn’t the end. Not for you.

He would always come for you.

Then, as quickly as he had appeared, he vanished into the shadows, leaving you standing there, trembling and confused. Your mind raced, trying to process what had just happened, but nothing made sense. The officers were dead, Art was gone, and in your hand… you held two rings.

Tears welled in your eyes as you stared down at them, your mind screaming that this was all a nightmare. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t. This was your reality now, a game you couldn’t escape from, with a player who would never let you go.

And as the weight of it all sank in, you realized with a sickening clarity that no matter how far you ran, no matter how hard you fought…

You belonged to him.